‘Listen, Twemlow,’ said Stanway loudly, ’I meant to run down to the office for an hour this afternoon, but if you’ll stay, I’ll stay.  That’s a bargain, eh?’

* * * * *

John had returned from London blusterously cheerful, and Twemlow stood in the centre of his vehement noisy hospitality as in the centre of a typhoon.  He consented to stay, because the two girls, with hair blown and still in their wet macintoshes, took him by the arm and said he must.  He was not the first guest in that house whom the apparent heartiness of the host had failed to convince.  Always there was something sinister, insincere, and bullying in the invitations which John gave, and in his reception of visitors.  Hence it was, perhaps, that visitors did not abound under his roof, despite the richness of the table and the ordered elegance of every appointment.  Women paid calls; the girls, unlike Leonora, had their intimates, including Harry; but men seldom came; and it was not often that the principal meals of the day were shared by an outsider of either sex.

Arthur’s presence on a second occasion was therefore the more stimulating.  It affected the whole house, even to the kitchen, which, indeed, usually vibrates in sympathy with the drawing-room.  In Bessie’s vivacious demeanour as she served the high-tea at six o’clock might be observed the symptoms of the agreeable excitation which all felt.  Even Rose unbent, and Leonora thought how attractive the girl could be when she chose.  But towards the end of the meal, it became evident that Rose was preoccupied.  Leonora, Ethel, and Millicent passed into the drawing-room.  John pulled out his immense cigar-case, and the two men began to smoke.

‘Come along,’ said Stanway, speaking thickly with the cigar in his mouth.

‘Papa,’ said Rose ominously, just as he was following Twemlow out of the door.  She spoke with quiet, cold distinctness.

‘What is it?’

‘Did you inquire about that?’

He paused.  ‘Oh yes, Rose,’ he answered rapidly.’  I inquired.  She seemed a very clever woman, I must say.  But I’ve been thinking it over, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it won’t do for you to go.  I don’t like the idea of it—­you in London for six weeks or more alone.  You must do what you can here.  And if you fail this time you must try again.’

’But I can stay in the same lodgings as Sarah Fuge.  The house is kept by her cousin or some relation.’

‘And then there’s the expense,’ he proceeded.

’Father, I told you the other night I didn’t want to put you to any expense.  I’ve got thirty-seven pounds of my own, and I will pay; I prefer to pay.’

‘Oh, no, no!’ he exclaimed.

‘Well, why can’t I go?’ she demanded bluntly.

‘I’ll think it over again—­but I don’t like it, Rose, I don’t like it.’

‘But there isn’t a day to waste, father!’ she complained.