red. "Now tell us where Peter Phipps comes in?"

"Well," Kendrick continued, "Phipps attracts sympathy because of his
lavish hospitality and apparent generosity, whilst Wingate is a man of
many reserves and has few friends, either on this side or the other. Then
Phipps, I should say, is the wealthier man, and in this present deal, at
any rate, he has marvellous support, so that financially he must tower
over Wingate. Then, too, I think he understands the tricks of the market
better over here, and he has a very dangerous confederate in Skinflint
Martin. What that old blackguard doesn't know of chicanery and crooked
dealing, the devil himself couldn't make use of. If he's put his own
money into B. & I., I should say that Phipps can't be broken. My advice
to Wingate, at any rate, when we meet, will be to stand by for a time."

The sound of approaching voices warned them that their seclusion was on
the point of being broken into. Their hostess, an elderly lady of great
social gifts and immense volubility, appeared, having for her escort a
tall, well-groomed man of youthful middle-age, with the square jaw and
humorous gleam in his grey eyes of the best trans-Atlantic type. Lady
Amesbury beamed upon them all.

"Just the people I was looking for!" she exclaimed. "I want you all to
know my great friend, Mr. Wingate from New York."

Every one was glad to meet Wingate, and Kendrick and he exchanged the
greetings of old friends.

"Now you have found some one whom you can talk to, my dear John," his
hostess declared. "I shall consider you off my hands for the afternoon.
Come and dine with me next Sunday night, and don't lose your heart to
Sarah Baldwin. She's a capricious little minx, and, besides, she's
engaged to Jimmy there, though heaven knows whether they'll ever get
married.--There! I knew it! My own particular Bishop being lured into
conversation with Hilda Sutton, who's just become a freethinker and can't
talk of anything else. It will spoil the dear man's afternoon if she gets
really started.--Good-by, all of you. Take care of Mr. Wingate."

She hurried off, and the newcomer seated himself between Kendrick
and Sarah.

"We've just been hearing all about you, Mr. Wingate," Sarah began, "but
I must say you're the last person we expected to see here. We imagined
you dashing in a great motor-car from Liverpool to your office in the
City, dictating letters, speaking into the telephone, and doing all
sorts of violent thing