ssed about him still rankled in his mind. He was not
particularly sensitive, but the subject was an unpleasant one.

"Something of the kind," he answered. "One has to take precautions."

Sylvia laughed.

"One could imagine your taking them. You're not the man to be caught
at a disadvantage, are you?"

"Well," he said dryly, "it's a thing I try to avoid."

Sylvia sat down, as if she meant to continue the conversation, which
was far from what he desired, but he could not be discourteous.

"Had George any shares in your company?" she asked.

There was no way of avoiding a reply, without arousing her suspicions;
Herbert knew that she was keen-witted and persistent.

"Yes," he said, "he had a quantity."

"Have those shares been sold?"

This was a more troublesome question, but Herbert was compelled to
answer.

"No; not yet. It's unfortunate that the market broke before I could
get rid of them, but it may rally. I'm rather disturbed about the
matter; but, after all, one has to take one's chance in buying shares.
Dealing in the speculative sorts is to a large extent a game of hazard."

"I suppose so, but then somebody must win."

"No," returned Herbert, "now and then everybody loses."

Sylvia glanced at him with a mocking smile.

"Even those in the inside ring? When that happens, it must be
something like a catastrophe. But I'm sorry for George; he doesn't
deserve this."

Herbert could not deny it; but, to his surprise, the girl leaned
forward, speaking in an authoritative tone.

"I don't know what you can do, but you must do something to get George
out of the difficulty. It's obvious that you led him into it--he isn't
the man to go in for rash speculation; he would have chosen something
safe."

It was a relief to Herbert that his wife came in just then; but, as he
had reason for believing that she would not remain, he decided that he
would go out and post some letters. Sylvia seemed to be in an
inquisitive mood, and he did not wish to be left alone with her.

The night was fine but dark; in places a thin, low-lying mist that hung
over the meadows obscured the hedgerows, and it grew more dense as
Herbert approached the river, which brawled noisily among the stones.
The man, however, scarcely noticed this; his mind was occupied with
other matters. Sylvia's attitude had disturbed him. She was useful as
an ally, but she could not be allowed to criticize his conduct or to
give him orders. Moreov