Graham stood up too now, quite clearly agitated. “If I may speak freely, sir-”

“Yes?”

“It is an utterly impossible request. As gratified as I am at your consideration, Mr. Lenox, I am in no way suited to such a role-a role that belongs to someone-someone from the great universities, someone with far more education than I possess, and…if I may speak frankly, sir, someone of your own class.”

“I’m not trying to change the world. I simply want someone I can trust.”

Graham swallowed. “As a solution to a simple staffing problem, sir, I must say I find it exceedingly inelegant.”

Lenox waved an irritated hand. “No, no. I want both you and Kirk to be happy, of course, but it’s more than that. For one thing, you’ve been overqualified by your natural merits for years. More to the point-more selfishly-I’m new at this. I need help.”

At last Graham was silent. Finally, he said, “I’m honored, sir.”

“Will you do it?”

“I cannot say, sir. May I have time to consider the proposal?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Would I still live here?”

“If you liked, yes. You shall always have lodging while I draw breath, as you well know.”

“And if I say no, sir? What will become of me then?”

Grumpily, Lenox said, “Well, we’d keep both of you, of course-and we’d hire five more butlers, just to make sure we had one in every room.”

Now Graham did laugh. “Thank you, sir.”

“Before you get above your old station, would you mind helping me with this painting?”

It was the one from the Salon, the blurry one. The two men pried its crate open, took its wrappings off, and then walked it down to the dining hall. There they hung it, tilting it imperceptibly back and forth until it was just level.