'I wanted a vote of confidence. I told you I was sorry because of a certain episode. I wished to see if you trusted me, and I found you didn't. There!'

'I think that was hardly a fair test. You see, the facts did not belong to me alone.'

Miss Brewster sighed, and slowly shook her head.

'That wouldn't have made the least difference if you had really trusted me.'

'Oh, I say! You couldn't expect a man to----'

'Yes I could.'

'What, merely a friend?'

Miss Brewster nodded.

'Well, all I can say,' remarked Wentworth, with a laugh, 'is that friendship has made greater strides in the States than it has in this country.'

Before Jennie could reply, the useful boy knocked at the door and brought in a tea-tray, which he placed before his master; then silently departed, closing the door noiselessly.

'May I offer you a cup of tea?'

'Please. What a curious custom this drinking of tea is in business offices! I think I shall write an article on "A Nation of Tea-tipplers."

If I were an enemy of England, instead of being its greatest friend, I would descend with my army on this country between the hours of four and five in the afternoon, and so take the population unawares while it was drinking tea. What would you do if the enemy came down on you during such a sacred national ceremony?'

'I would offer her a cup of tea,' replied Wentworth, suiting the action to the phrase.

'Mr. Wentworth,' said the girl archly, 'you're improving. That remark was distinctly good. Still, you must remember that I come as a friend, not as an enemy. Did you ever read the "Babes in the Wood"? It is a most instructive, but pathetic, work of fiction. You remember the wicked uncle, surely? Well, you and Mr. Kenyon remind me of the "Babes," poor innocent little things! and London--this part of it--is the dark and pathless forest. I am the bird hovering about you, waiting to cover you with leaves. The leaves, to do any good, ought to be cheques fluttering down on you, but, alas! I haven't any. If negotiable cheques only grew on trees, life would not be so difficult.'

Miss Brewster sipped her tea pensively, and Wentworth listened contentedly to the musical murmur of her voice. Such an entrancing effect had it on him that he paid less heed to what she said than a man ought when a lady is speaking. The tea-drinking had added a touch of domesticity to the _tete-a-tete_ which rather went to the head of the young man. He clinched and unclinched his hand out of sight under the table, and felt the moisture on his palm. He hoped he would be able to retain control over himself, but the difficulty of his task almost overcame him when she now and then appealed to him with glance or gesture, and he felt as if he must cry out, 'My girl, my girl, don't do that, if you expect me to stay where I am.'

'I see you are not paying the slightest attention to what I am saying,'

she said, pushing the cup from her. She rested her arms on the table, leaning slightly forward, and turning her face full upon him: 'I can tell by your eyes that you are thinking of something else.'

'I a.s.sure you,' said George, drawing a deep breath, 'I am listening with intense interest.'

'Well, that's right, for what I am going to say is important. Now, to wake you up, I will first tell you all about your mine; you will understand thereafter that I did not need to ask anyone for information regarding it.'

Here, to Wentworth's astonishment, she gave a rapid and accurate sketch of the negotiations and arrangements between the three partners, and the present position of affairs.

'How do you know all this?' he asked.

'Never mind that; and you mustn't ask how I know what I am now going to tell you, but you must believe it implicitly, and act upon it promptly.

Longworth is fooling both you and Kenyon. He is marking time, so that your option will run out; then he will pay cash for the mine at the original price, and you and Kenyon will be left to pay two-thirds of the debt incurred. Where is Kenyon?'

'He has gone to America.'

'That's good. Cable him to get the option renewed. You can then try to form the company yourselves in London. If he can't obtain a renewal, you have very little time to get the cash together, and if you are not able to do that, then you lose everything. This is what I came to tell you, although I have been a long time about it. Now I must go.'

She rose, gathered her belongings from the table, and stood with the parasol pressed against her. Wentworth came around to where she was standing, his face paler than usual, probably because of the news he had heard. One hand was grasped tightly around one wrist in front of him. He felt that he should thank her for what she had done, but his lips were dry, and, somehow, the proper words were not at his command.

She, holding her fragile lace-fringed parasol against her with one arm, was adjusting her long neatly fitting glove, which she had removed before tea. A b.u.t.ton, one of many, was difficult to fasten, and as she endeavoured to put it in its place, her sleeve fell away, showing a round white arm above the glove.

'You see,' she said, a little breathlessly, her eyes upon her glove, 'it is a very serious situation, and time is of immense importance.'

'I realize that.'

'It would be such a pity to lose everything now, when you have had so much trouble and worry.'

'It would.'

'And I think that whatever is done should be done quickly. You should act at once and with energy.'

'I am convinced that is so.'

'Of course it is. You are of too trusting a nature; you should be more suspicious, then you wouldn't be tricked as you have been.'

'No. The trouble is I have been too sceptical, but that is past. I won't be again.'

'What are you talking about?' she said, looking quickly up at him. 'Don't you know you'll lose the mine if----'

'Hang the mine!' he cried, flinging his wrist free, and clasping her to him before she could step back or move from her place. 'There is something more important than mines or money.'

The parasol broke with a sharp snap, and the girl murmured 'Oh!' but the murmur was faint.

'Never mind the parasol,' he said, pulling it from between them and tossing it aside; 'I'll get you another.'

'Reckless man!' she gasped; 'you little know how much it cost, and I think, you know, I ought to have been consulted--in an--in an--affair of this kind--George.'

'There was no time. I acted upon your own advice--promptly. You are not angry, Jennie, my dear girl, are you?'

'I suppose I'm not, though I think I ought to be; especially as I know only too well that I held my heart in my hand the whole time, almost offering it to you. I hope you won't treat it as you have treated the sunshade.'

He kissed her for answer.

'You see,' she said, putting his necktie straight, 'I liked you from the very first, far more than I knew at the time. If you--I'm not trying to justify myself, you know--but if you had, well, just coaxed me a little yourself, I would never have sent that cable message. You seemed to give up everything, and you sent Kenyon to me, and that made me angry. I expected you to come back to me, but you never came.'

'I was a stupid fool. I always am when I get a fair chance.'

'Oh no, you're not, but you do need someone to take care of you.'

She suddenly held him at arm's length from her.

'You don't imagine for a moment, George Wentworth, that I came here to-day for--for this.'

'Certainly not!' cried the honest young man, with much indignant fervour, drawing her again towards him.

'Then it's all right. I couldn't bear to have you think such a thing, especially--well, I'll tell you why some day. But I do wish you had a t.i.tle. Do they ever enn.o.ble accountants in this country, George?'

'No; they knight only rich fools.'