He eyed the young couple with the tragic history behind them, and could only suppose that familiarity had dulled their senses. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open. "Yes," replied Jack. Who is it?” The man came a little further into the room. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Stimulated by the promise of something handsome to drink, the man acquitted himself to admiration in the management of his lazy cattle. Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him.
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