He was also a handsome man, or no, I will not go so far as that; he was only one in whom the lines of form and visage were fine enough not to interfere with the impression made by his strong nature and intense vitality.  A man to sway women and also quite capable of moving men (this was evident at a glance); but a man under a cloud just at present,—­a very heavy cloud which both irked and perplexed him.

Pausing in the middle of the room, he surveyed me closely for an instant before speaking.  Did I impress him as favorably as he did me?  I soon had reason to think so, for the nervous trembling of his hands ceased after the first moment or two of silent scrutiny, and I was sure I caught the note of hope in his voice as he courteously remarked: 

“You are seeking a place, young lady.  Do you think you can fill the one I have to offer?  It has its difficulties, but it is not an onerous one.  It is that of companion to my wife.”

I bowed; possibly I smiled.  I do smile sometimes when a ray of real sunshine darts across my pathway.

“I should be very glad to try such a situation,” I replied.

A look of relief, so vivid that it startled me, altered at once the whole character of his countenance; and perceiving how intense was the power and fascination underlying his quiet exterior, I asked myself who and what this man was; no ordinary personage, I was sure, but who?  Had Miss Davies purposely withheld his name?  I began to think so.

“I have had some experience,” I was proceeding—­

But he waved this consideration aside, with a change back to his former gloomy aspect, and a careful glance at the door which did not escape me.

“It is not experience which is so much needed as discretion.”

Again that word.

“The case is not a common one, or, rather,”—­he caught himself up quickly, “the circumstances are not.  My wife is well, but—­she is not happy.  She is very unhappy, deeply, unaccountably so, and I do not know why.”

Anxious to watch the effect of these words, he paused a moment, then added fervently: 

“Would to God I did!  It would make a new man of me.”

The meaning, the deep meaning in his tone, if not in the adjuration itself, was undeniable; but my old habit of self-control stood me in good stead and I remained silent and watchful, weighing every look and word.

“A week ago she was the lightest hearted woman in town,—­the happiest wife, the merriest mother.  To-day she is a mere wreck of her former self, pallid, drawn, almost speechless, yet she is not ill.  She will not acknowledge to an ache or a pain; will not even admit that any change has taken place in her.  But you have only to see her.  And I am as ignorant of the cause of it all—­as you are!” he burst out.

Still I remained silent, waiting, watchful.