“I don’t know whether I like him or not.” “He is a very satisfactory person,” said the countess in her majestic manner. “I like tall servants, and the fact that he is unpleasant looking is an advantage. None of my callers will try to steal him. In society one finds one’s best servants so frequently enticed away by people who pretend they are one’s friends.” It was then that she told of her passion for jigsaw puzzles. “Braime is very helpful and quite clever at that sort of thing, and I have frequently had to call on him for help.” “Have you had him long?” “Some six months. He was recommended to me by some people anxious to reform criminals,” was the startling thing she added. Lois nearly jumped from her chair. “You mean that he has been in prison?” she asked, bewildered. Lady Moron inclined her head in a stately agreement. “Yes, I believe he has been in prison for some foolish offence--stealing silver, I think. I have given him a new start, and the man is grateful.” When the butler returned, Lois gave him a more careful, if more furtive, scrutiny. Despite his powerful physique, he moved with a gentle, almost feline tread and his big clumsy hands manipulated the delicate china with a dexterity which was surprising. Partly to her amusement, but more to her embarrassment, Lois found that a maid had been allocated to her--a fresh-faced country girl who had been recruited from her ladyship’s own village in Berkshire. For the Earls of Moron were wealthy landowners, and Moron House, near Newbury, was one of the show places of the county. The maid had all the loquacity of her kind, and Lois had not been very long in her room before she learnt that her distrust of the butler was generally felt throughout the servants’ quarters. “He’s always prying and spying, miss,” said the maid. “He’s just like a great cat, the way he walks; you can’t hear him until he’s behind you. And us servants are not good enough for him. He has all his meals in his pantry, and whenever we get a new servant here he watches her as if she was a mouse. I wonder her ladyship stands such an ugly, bad-tempered man about the house.” “Is he very bad-tempered?” asked Lois. “Well,” admitted the girl with reluctance, “I can’t exactly say that. But he looks bad-tempered,” she said triumphantly, “and you can always judge a man on his looks. Her ladyship took a lot of trouble about you, miss.” “About me?” said Lois in surprise. The girl nodded. “She had these chairs put in for you and chose your bed, and--hullo, what’s this? Is this yours, miss?” She had pulled open the empty drawer of a bureau, and now she held in her hand a large cabinet photograph. Lois took it from her; it was the picture of a young man; she judged him to be in the early twenties. He was singularly good-looking, and there was about the face something that was vaguely familiar.