aking the Westmore madeira circulate with the
sun--that the change was manifest only in his evening-dress, and in the
fact of his sitting at the foot of the table.

If Amherst was conscious of the contrast thus implied, it was only as a
restriction on his freedom. As far as the welfare of Westmore was
concerned he would rather have stood before his companions as the
assistant manager of the mills than as the husband of their owner; and
it seemed to him, as he looked back, that he had done very little with
the opportunity which looked so great in the light of his present
restrictions. What he _had_ done with it--the use to which, as
unfriendly critics might insinuate, he had so adroitly put it--had
landed him, ironically enough, in the ugly _impasse_ of a situation from
which no issue seemed possible without some wasteful sacrifice of
feeling.

His wife's feelings, for example, were already revealing themselves in
an impatient play of her fan that made her father presently lean forward
to suggest: "If we men are to talk shop, is it necessary to keep Bessy
in this hot room?"

Amherst rose and opened the window behind his wife's chair.

"There's a breeze from the west--the room will be cooler now," he said,
returning to his seat.

"Oh, I don't mind--" Bessy murmured, in a tone intended to give her
companions the full measure of what she was being called on to endure.

Mr. Tredegar coughed slightly. "May I trouble you for that other box of
cigars, Amherst? No, _not_ the Cabanas." Bessy rose and handed him the
box on which his glance significantly rested. "Ah, thank you, my dear. I
was about to ask," he continued, looking about for the cigar-lighter,
which flamed unheeded at Amherst's elbow, "what special purpose will be
served by a preliminary review of the questions to be discussed
tomorrow."

"Ah--exactly," murmured Mr. Langhope. "The madeira, my dear John?
No--ah--_please_--to the left!"

Amherst impatiently reversed the direction in which he had set the
precious vessel moving, and turned to Mr. Tredegar, who was
conspicuously lighting his cigar with a match extracted from his
waist-coat pocket.

"The purpose is to define my position in the matter; and I prefer that
Bessy should do this with your help rather than with mine."

Mr. Tredegar surveyed his cigar through drooping lids, as though the
question propounded by Amherst were perched on its tip.

"Is not your position naturally involved in and defined by