When the two men found themselves in the library it was quite dusk outside, and a deep gloom filled the room. There was no one else in the place, and no candle or lamp illumed the dark and cavernous recesses of shadows lying here and there remote from the great window. "I will not detain you long, Mr. Grey. Do you wish for lights?" "Not at all, Sir William." This man, who had come in the morning as a stranger, and whom he, Grey, promised himself he would quickly eject if he made himself unpleasant or pushed himself upon Miss Midharst after the reading of the will, was now treating him, Grey, as a guest in that house! And not only that, but he had pushed himself upon Miss Midharst, and seemed to have got on very well with her, judging from the parting which had just taken place between them. The tables were turned on him, Grey, and the less light there was to expose his discomfiture the pleasanter for him. The gold was still leading, still leading, but only by a head; and the lead was gaining, hair's-breadth by hair's-breadth, every minute. "Suppose we sit near the window, where the most light is," said Sir William. They both moved towards the window, and, having taken chairs, the younger man began: "In the first place, Mr. Grey, let me thank you most cordially for all your great kindness and care shown to Miss Midharst during this troublesome time. I assure you I shall never forget the debt of gratitude I owe you for your generosity and devotedness under the trying circumstances." "I feel greatly flattered by your approval, Sir William. I have tried in my humble way to do my duty, and if I have failed I have failed through no want of desire to do my duty by the child of--if I may be permitted to call him so--my old friend Sir Alexander Midharst." There was a strange mixture of emotions in Grey's voice as he spoke. Sarcasm and fear mingled freely, and the young man was for a moment in doubt as to how he should proceed. Mr. Grey, now alone and in the dark, did not impress him quite so favourably as earlier in the day, when others were present, and when the man's face and figure could be seen. The young man paused a while, and made up his mind not to inquire into the constituents of that tone if it were not repeated. "It," he thought, "may have been accidental." Aloud he said, "I did not come into this neighbourhood until last night, and since then every one I met seems to have done nothing but sing your praise. All the people at the "Warfinger Hotel" have spoken in unstinted terms of respect. You must not think they knew who I was, for I gave no name. I was and am greatly delighted at this, for I hope from it you and I may get on well together, out of consideration to my cousin's comfort." "I sincerely trust we may always get on well together. I certainly will not deliberately risk losing your good opinion."