find
myself, I generally find Mr. Wingate in the opposite one. I have an idea,
in fact," he went on, "that we are on the point of recommencing our
friendly rivalry."

Josephine, who had been standing up for the last few moments,
touched the bell.

"You will keep your rivalry for the City, I trust," she said.

It was just then that Phipps surprised a little glance flashed from
Josephine to Wingate. He seemed suddenly to increase in size, to become
more menacing, portentous. There was thunder upon his forehead. He
seemed on the point of passionate speech. At that moment the butler
opened the door and Josephine held out her hand.

"It was very kind of you to call, Mr. Phipps. I will think over all that
you have said, and discuss it--with my husband."

Phipps had regained command of himself. He bowed low over her hand but
could not keep the malice from his tone.

"You could not have a better counsellor," he declared.

Neither Josephine nor Wingate spoke a word until the door was finally
closed after the unwelcome caller and they heard his heavy tread
retreating down the hall. Then she sank back upon the couch and motioned
him to sit by her side.

"I suppose I am an idiot," she acknowledged, "but that man terrifies me."

"In what way?"

"He is my husband's associate in business." Josephine said, "and
apparently desires to take advantage of that fact. My husband is not a
reliable person where money is concerned. He seems to have been behaving
rather badly."

"I am very sorry," Wingate murmured.

She looked at him curiously.

"Has anything happened?" she asked. "You seem distressed."

Wingate shook his head. The shock of having met his enemy under such
circumstances was beginning to pass.

"Forgive me," he begged. "The fact of it is, the last person I expected
to find here was Peter Phipps. I forgot that your husband was connected
with his company."

"You two are not friends?" she suggested.

"We are bitter enemies," Wingate confessed, "and shall be till one of
us goes down. We are a very terrible example of the evils of this age
of restraint. In more primitive days we should have gone for one
another's throats. One would have lived and the other died. It would
have been, better."

Josephine shivered.

"Don't!" she implored. "You sound too much in earnest."

"I am in earnest about that man," he replied gravely. "I beg you, Lady
Dredlinton, as I hope to call myself your friend, not to trust him, not