d directions of his niece. He addressed Morton in a
condescending fashion that was unspeakably annoying to that important
personage.

"I never heard of any such contract," he declared blandly, "and I have a
bit of money invested in the plant, too.... Has he one, Charles?"

"He has a verbal one," Hamilton answered, more and more bewildered by
the progress of affairs. "He wouldn't give a written one."

"Huh! A verbal agreement!" Delancy sniffed. "Well, Morton, may I ask how
you are going to work to prove this verbal agreement?"

"We'll show that he did the work at that price," was the aggressive
answer. "That will suffice."

"Very good," Delancy said, judicially. "Only, Morton, I venture to
predict that you can't prove your verbal contract--not by any manner of
means.... Who was with you at the time when that verbal agreement was
made between you and Hamilton, as you allege?"

Carrington, who had been almost as greatly puzzled over the course of
affairs as was Hamilton, now perceived something that was definitely
within his own knowledge.

"Mr. Morton and I were together," he vouchsafed.

"And, so, you met the two Hamilton partners?" Delancy queried.

Both Morton and Carrington denied that the wife had been present at the
interview.

"I have an idea," Delancy continued imperturbably, "that Mrs. Hamilton
here would be quite willing to go on the stand and swear that she was
present at the interview with her husband, to which you have referred.
From something she has let drop to me, I have a very strong impression
to this effect." There was a whimsicality in the old gentleman's tone
that none save his niece marked.

"But I tell you," Carrington vociferated, "she wasn't there!"

"I hardly see what that has to do with it," Cicily interpolated
languidly, from her place at the tea-table. "I remember it all quite
perfectly." There was a smothered ejaculation from Morton, which sounded
almost profane; Carrington's eyes were widely rounded as he stared at
his hostess. "Yes," she went on, her musical voice gently casual in its
modulations, "I remember it so well, because it was the day
after--after--oh, well, after something or other! I shall remember what
presently. And I wore--"

"Never mind all that," Delancy interrupted. "It doesn't matter what you
wore, or whether you wore anything, or not."

"Uncle Jim," Cicily cried, horrified. On this occasion, the emotion in
her voice was wholly genuine.

But Delancy was