nd then what happened?"

"What happened? Why! I showed the new 'client' out without wasting any
more words," returned my visitor severely.

"Don't you see, Miss Lovelace? He'd made use of his introduction to try
to 'rush' me into letting him have ready-money to the tune of fifty
pounds! Do you suppose I should ever have seen them again? That," said
the young bank manager impressively, "is the sort of man he is----" He
broke off to demand: "Why do you laugh?"

It certainly was unjustifiable. But I couldn't help it.

I saw it all! The room at the bank where Million and I had interviewed
the manager. The manager himself, with the formal manner that he "wears"
like a new and not very comfortable suit of clothes, asking the visitor
to sit down.

Then the Honourable Jim, in his gorgeously cut coat, with his daring yet
wary blue eyes, smiling down at the other man (Mr. Brace is a couple of
inches shorter). The Honourable Jim, calmly demanding fifty pounds "on
account" (of what) in that insinuating, flattering, insidious, softly
pitched Celtic voice of his ..."

"Common robbery. I see no difference between that and picking a man's
pocket!" declared the young manager.

Perfectly true, of course. If you come to think of it, the younger son
of Lord Ballyneck is no better than a sort of Twentieth-century
Highwayman. There's really nothing to be said for him. Only why should
Mr. Brace speak so rebukefully to me? It wasn't I who had tried to pick
the pocket of his precious bank!

"And yet you don't see," persisted the manager, "why a fellow of that
stamp should not be admitted to friendly terms with you!"

"With me? We're not talking about me at all!" I reminded this young man.
And to drive this home I turned to the mirror and gave a touch or two to
the white muslin butterfly of the cap that marked my place. "We're
talking about my mistress. I am only Miss Million's maid----"

"Pshaw!"

"I can't pretend to dictate to my mistress what friends she is to
receive----"

"Oh!" said the young man impatiently. "That's in your own hands. You
know it is. This maid business--well, if I were your brother I should
soon put a stop to it, but, anyhow, you know who's really at the head of
affairs. You know that you must have a tremendous influence over
this--this other girl. She naturally makes you her mentor; models
herself, or tries to, on you. If she thought that you considered
anything or any one undesirable, she would very soon