in attendance. The visitor was the Earl of Embleton, of the North.
Entering the rooms, he fumbled with the string of his eyeglass, and,
after capturing it, looked at Logan with an air of some bewilderment. He
was a tall, erect, slim, and well-preserved patrician, with a manner
really shy, though hasty critics interpreted it as arrogant. He was
'between two ages,' a very susceptible period in the history of the
individual.

'I think we have met before,' said the Earl to Logan. 'Your face is not
unfamiliar to me.'

'Yes,' said Logan, 'I have seen you at several places;' and he mumbled a
number of names.

'Ah, I remember now--at Lady Lochmaben's,' said Lord Embleton. 'You are,
I think, a relation of hers. . . .'

'A distant relation: my name is Logan.'

'What, of the Restalrig family?' said the Earl, with excitement.

'A far-off kinsman of the Marquis,' said Logan, adding, 'May I ask you to
be seated?'

'This is really very interesting to me--surprisingly interesting,' said
the Earl. 'What a strange coincidence! How small the world is, how
brief are the ages! Our ancestors, Mr. Logan, were very intimate long
ago.'

'Indeed?' said Logan.