“Now, what can have put such an idea as that into your head?”

Another grin was drawn from his staid secretary. “You did, sir. Well, the long and short of it is that Miss Merriville got down from the carriage, the letter in her hand, as I was mounting the steps. So — ”

“Ah!” interpolated Alverstoke. “No footman! Probably a job-carriage.”

“As to that, sir, I don’t know. At all events, I asked her if I could be of service — telling her that I was your secretary — and we fell into conversation — and I said that I would give you her letter, and — well — ”

“See to it that I read it,” supplied Alverstoke. “Describe this charmer to me, Charles!”

“Miss Merriville?” said Mr Trevor, apparently at a loss. “Well, I didn’t notice her particularly, sir! She was very civil, and unaffected, and — and certainly not what you call a dirty dish! I mean — ” He paused, trying to conjure up a picture of Miss Merriville. “Well, I don’t know much about such things, but it seemed to me that she was dressed with elegance! Quite young, I think — though not in her first season. Or even,” he added reflectively, “in her second season.” He drew a long breath, and uttered, in reverent accents: “It was the other one, sir!”

“Yes?” said Alverstoke encouragingly, the amusement deepening in his eyes.

Mr Trevor seemed to find it difficult to express himself; but after a pause, during which he obviously conjured up a heavenly vision, he said earnestly: “Sir, I have never before seen, or — or even dreamed of such a lovely girl! Her eyes! So big, and of such a blue! Her hair! like shining gold! The prettiest little nose, too, and her complexion quite exquisite! And when she spoke — ”