“I don’t want him to marry at all, or anyhow, not yet.  However, there is no necessity to discuss that point.  We have definitely settled the line you are to adopt, and that is all I wanted to speak to you about.  When next you feel inclined to flirt, come to me, and you shall have kisses as well as—­rings.”

It was shortly after this tete-a-tete that Lilian Rosenberg was interrupted in her work, by a rap at the door.

“Come in,” she called, and a young man entered.

“I believe a clerk is wanted here,” he explained.  “I’ve come to apply for the situation.  Can I see Mr. Hamar?”

“I’m afraid he’s out.  There’s no one in at present,” Lilian Rosenberg replied, eyeing the stranger critically “If you like to wait awhile, you may do so.  Sit down.”  She signalled to him to take a chair and went on typing.

For some minutes the silence was unbroken, save for the tapping of fingers and the clicking of the machine.  Then she looked up, and their eyes met.

“It’s not pleasant to be out of work,” he said.  “Have you ever experienced it?”

“Once or twice,” she said.  “And I never wish to again.  You don’t look as if you were much used to office work.”

“No!  I’m an artist; but times are hard with us.  The present Government has driven all the money out of the country and no one buys pictures now; so I’m forced to turn my hand to something else.”

“I love pictures.  My father was an artist.”

“Then we have something in common,” the young man said.  “Would you like to see my work?  I love showing it to people who understand something about painting, and are not afraid to criticize.”

“I should like to see it, immensely—­though I won’t presume to criticize.”

“May I inquire your name?” the young man asked eagerly.  “Mine is Shiel Davenport.”

“And mine—­Lilian Rosenberg,” the girl said, with a smile.

“If I don’t get the post, may I write to you sometimes, Miss Rosenberg, and ask you to my studio.  I call it a studio, though it’s really only an attic.”

Lilian Rosenberg nodded.  “I shall be delighted to come,” she said.  “I am afraid I am very unconventional.”

There was no time for further conversation, as Hamar entered the room at that moment.

“What do you want?” he asked curtly.

Shiel told him.

“You’re too late,” Hamar said.  “I’ve engaged some one.  If you’d called earlier, there might have been some chance for you, as you look tolerably intelligent.  But it’s no use now, so be off.”

As Shiel left the room he caught Lilian Rosenberg looking at him; and he saw that her eyes were full of sympathy.

The acquaintance, thus begun, ripened.  She went to see his pictures, they had tea together, and they spent many subsequent hours in each other’s company.  And although Shiel saw in Lilian Rosenberg only a rather prepossessing girl from whom, after cultivating her acquaintance, he was hoping to learn the inner working of the Modern Sorcery Company Ltd., with her it was different.