Harry Hartley had received the ordinary education of a gentleman.
At that period, he manifested a remarkable distaste for study; and

his only surviving parent being both weak and ignorant, he was
permitted thenceforward to spend his time in the attainment of

petty and purelyelegant accomplishments. Two years later, he was
left an orphan and almost a beggar. For all active and industrious

pursuits, Harry was unfitted alike by nature and training. He
could sing romantic ditties, and accompany himself with discretion

on the piano; he was a graceful although a timid cavalier; he had a
pronounced taste for chess; and nature had sent him into the world

with one of the most engaging exteriors that can well be fancied.
Blond and pink, with dove's eyes and a gentle smile, he had an air

of agreeabletenderness and melancholy, and the most submissive and
caressing manners. But when all is said, he was not the man to

lead armaments of war, or direct the councils of a State.
A fortunate chance and some influence obtained for Harry, at the

time of his bereavement, the position of private secretary to
Major-General Sir Thomas Vandeleur, C.B. Sir Thomas was a man of

sixty, loud-spoken, boisterous, and domineering. For some reason,
some service the nature of which had been often whispered and

repeatedly denied, the Rajah of Kashgar had presented this officer
with the sixth known diamond of the world. The gift transformed

General Vandeleur from a poor into a wealthy man, from an obscure
and unpopular soldier into one of the lions of London society; the

possessor of the Rajah's Diamond was welcome in the most exclusive
circles; and he had found a lady, young, beautiful, and well-born,

who was willing to call the diamond hers even at the price of
marriage with Sir Thomas Vandeleur. It was commonly said at the

time that, as like draws to like, one jewel had attracted another;
certainly Lady Vandeleur was not only a gem of the finest water in

her own person, but she showed herself to the world in a very
costly setting; and she was considered by many respectable

authorities, as one among the three or four best dressed women in
England.

Harry's duty as secretary was not particularly onerous; but he had
a dislike for all prolonged work; it gave him pain to ink his

lingers; and the charms of Lady Vandeleur and her toilettes drew
him often from the library to the boudoir. He had the prettiest

ways among women, could talk fashions with enjoyment, and was never
more happy than when criticising a shade of ribbon, or running on

an errand to the milliner's. In short, Sir Thomas's correspondence
fell into pitiful arrears, and my Lady had another lady's maid.

At last the General, who was one of the least patient of military
commanders, arose from his place in a violentaccess of passion,

and indicated to his secretary that he had no further need for his
services, with one of those explanatory gestures which are most

rarely employed between gentlemen. The door being unfortunately
open, Mr. Hartley fell downstairs head foremost.

He arose somewhat hurt and very deeply aggrieved. The life in the
General's house precisely suited him; he moved, on a more or less

doubtful footing, in very genteel company, he did little, he ate of
the best, and he had a lukewarm satisfaction in the presence of

Lady Vandeleur, which, in his own heart, he dubbed by a more
emphatic name.

Immediately after he had been outraged by the military foot, he
hurried to the boudoir and recounted his sorrows.

"You know very well, my dear Harry," replied Lady Vandeleur, for
she called him by name like a child or a domestic servant, "that

you never by any chance do what the General tells you. No more do
I, you may say. But that is different. A woman can earn her

pardon for a good year of disobedience by a single adroit
submission; and, besides, no one is married to his private

secretary. I shall be sorry to lose you; but since you cannot stay
longer in a house where you have been insulted, I shall wish you

good-bye, and I promise you to make the General smart for his
behaviour."

Harry's countenance fell; tears came into his eyes, and he gazed on
Lady Vandeleur with a tender reproach.

"My Lady," said he, "what is an insult? I should think little
indeed of any one who could not forgive them by the score. But to

leave one's friends; to tear up the bonds of affection - "
He was unable to continue, for his emotion choked him, and he began

to weep.
Lady Vandeleur looked at him with a curious expression. "This

little fool," she thought, "imagines himself to be in love with me.
Why should he not become my servant instead of the General's? He

is good-natured, obliging, and understands dress; and besides it
will keep him out of mischief. He is positively too pretty to be

unattached." That night she talked over the General, who was
already somewhat ashamed of his vivacity; and Harry was transferred

to the feminine department, where his life was little short of
heavenly. He was always dressed with uncommon nicety, wore

delicate flowers in his button-hole, and could entertain a visitor
with tact and pleasantry. He took a pride in servility to a

beautiful woman; received Lady Vandeleur's commands as so many
marks of favour; and was pleased to exhibit himself before other

men, who derided and despised him, in his character of male lady's-
maid and man milliner. Nor could he think enough of his existence

from a moral point of view. Wickedness seemed to him an
essentially male attribute, and to pass one's days with a delicate

woman, and principally occupied about trimmings, was to inhabit an
enchanted isle among the storms of life.

One fine morning he came into the drawing-room and began to arrange
some music on the top of the piano. Lady Vandeleur, at the other

end of the apartment, was speaking somewhat eagerly with her
brother, Charlie Pendragon, an elderly young man, much broken with

dissipation, and very lame of one foot. The private secretary, to
whose entrance they paid no regard, could not avoid overhearing a

part of their conversation.
"To-day or never," said the lady. "Once and for all, it shall be

done to-day."
"To-day, if it must be," replied the brother, with a sigh. "But it

is a false step, a ruinous step, Clara; and we shall live to repent
it dismally."

Lady Vandeleur looked her brother steadily and somewhat strangely
in the face.

"You forget," she said; "the man must die at last."
"Upon my word, Clara," said Pendragon, "I believe you are the most

heartless rascal in England."
"You men," she returned, "are so coarsely built, that you can never

appreciate a shade of meaning. You are yourselves rapacious,
violent, immodest, careless of distinction; and yet the least

thought for the future shocks you in a woman. I have no patience
with such stuff. You would despise in a common banker the

imbecility that you expect to find in us."
"You are very likely right," replied her brother; "you were always

cleverer than I. And, anyway, you know my motto: The family
before all."

"Yes, Charlie," she returned, taking his hand in hers, "I know your
motto better than you know it yourself. 'And Clara before the

family!' Is not that the second part of it? Indeed, you are the
best of brothers, and I love you dearly."

Mr. Pendragon got up, looking a little confused by these family
endearments.

"I had better not be seen," said he. "I understand my part to a
miracle, and I'll keep an eye on the Tame Cat."

"Do," she replied. "He is an abject creature, and might ruin all."
She kissed the tips of her fingers to him daintily; and the brother

withdrew by the boudoir and the back stair.
"Harry," said Lady Vandeleur, turning towards the secretary as soon

as they were alone, "I have a commission for you this morning. But
you shall take a cab; I cannot have my secretary freckled."