anything you wish to see.'

'I only want to know----'

'Certainly, certainly. Quite justifiable and proper. I'll have them
looked up.'

'Any time will do.'

'Well, we're rather busy. Say a week to-day--if you're to be here that
long.'

'I guess that'll suit me,' said Twemlow.

His tone had a touch of cynical cruel patience.

The intangible and shapeless suspicions which Ethel had caught from
Leonora took a misty form and substance, only to be immediately
dispelled in that inconstant mind by the sudden refreshing sound of
Milly's voice: 'We've called to take Ethel home, papa--oh, mother,
here's Mr. Twemlow!'

In another moment the office was full of chatter and scent, and Milly
had run impulsively to Ethel: 'What _has_ father given you to do?'

'Oh dear!' Ethel sighed, with a fatigued gesture of knowing nothing
whatever.

'It's half-past five,' said Leonora, glancing into the inner room, after
she had spoken to Mr. Twemlow.

Three hours and a half had Ethel been in thrall! It was like a century
to her. She could have dropped into her mother's arms.

'What have you come in, Nora?' asked Stanway, 'the trap?'

'No, the four-wheeled dog-cart, dear.'

'Well, Twemlow, drive up and have tea with us. Come along and have a
Five Towns high-tea.'

'Oh, Mr. Twemlow, do!' said Milly, nearly drowning Leonora's murmured
invitation.

Arthur hesitated.

'Come _along_,' Stanway insisted genially. 'Of course you will.'

'Thank you,' was the rather feeble answer. 'But I shall have to leave
pretty early.'

'We'll see about that,' said Stanway. 'You can take Mr. Twemlow and the
girls, Nora, and I'll follow as quick as I can. I must dictate a letter
or two.'

The three women, Twemlow in the midst, escaped like a pretty cloud out
of the rude, dingy office, and their bright voices echoed _diminuendo_
down the stair. Stanway rang his bell fiercely. The dictionary and the
letter and Ethel's paper lay forgotten on the dusty table of the inner
room.

* * * * *

Arthur Twemlow felt that he ought to have been annoyed, but he could do
no more than keep up a certain reserve of manner. Neither the memory of
his humiliating clumsy lies about his sister in broaching the matter of
his father's estate to Stanway, nor his clear perception that Stanway
was a dishonest and a frightened man, nor his strong theoretical
objection to Stanway's tactics in so urgently inviting him to tea, could
overpower