come within a mile of her."

"I shall," Shiel retorted, drawing himself up to his full height. "I
shall see her whenever she will permit me--and since she is not at
home at the present moment, I shall now await her return outside the
house, and defy the savage old bull-dog inside it." Leaving John
Martin too taken aback with astonishment to articulate a syllable,
Shiel withdrew.

True to his word, he waited to see Gladys. He paced up and down the
road in front of the house from eleven o'clock in the morning, when
his interview with John Martin had terminated, till eight o'clock in
the evening, and was just beginning to think he would have to give up
all hope of seeing her that day, when she came in sight.

"Really!" she exclaimed, after Shiel had explained the situation. "Do
you mean to say you have stayed here all day?"

"Of course I have," Shiel answered. "I told your father I would see
you, and I meant to stay here till I did."

"And what good has it done you?"

"All the good in the world. I shall sleep twice as well for it. I'm
more in love with you than you think, and I mean to marry you one day.
My prospects at present are absolutely Thames Embankmentish, but no
matter, I've hit upon a capital way of ferreting out the secrets of
the Modern Sorcery Company. I shall get employed by them"--and he told
Gladys of the advertisement he had seen in the paper.

"Well! I wish you all success," she said, "but I'm afraid you've upset
my father dreadfully, and the doctor says excitement is the very worst
thing for him and may lead to another stroke. You must on no account
come here again, until I give you leave."

"But I may see you elsewhere?"

"If you're a wise man, you'll do one thing at a time. You'll discover
the secret of the Sorcery Company first, and then--"

"When I have discovered it?"

"My father may forgive you. Have I told you I'm going on the stage? I
know Bromley Burnham, and he's offered me a part at the Imperial. It
is imperative now, that I should do something to help my father."

"If you become an actress," Shiel said bitterly, "my chances of
marrying you will indeed be small."

"Not smaller than they are now," Gladys observed. "_Au revoir._" And
with one of those tantalising and perplexing smiles, with which some
women, consciously or unconsciously, counteract--and sometimes,
perhaps, for reasons best known to themselves--completely nullify the
needless severity of their speech, shook hands