"Your daughter!" Hamar cried. "Miss Gladys! I am prepared to go any lengths to get her. Refuse to give her to me and I'll turn you out of your Hall, I'll torment you with every kind of insect, I'll plague you with disease, I'll make your life h.e.l.l. But give her to me--and I'll--"

"But I won't! And I defy you to do your worst, you--you--" and there is no knowing what would have happened, had not Gladys suddenly come in and dragged her father out of the room.

"How dare you?" she exclaimed, returning to the study to find Hamar still there. "I've telephoned to the police, and unless you go instantly and promise not to come again, I shall give you in charge, for annoyance."

"Foolish of you--very foolish!" Hamar said, "when I want to be friendly. Sooner or later you must give in, so why not end all this needless unpleasantness now, and receive me--if not with open arms--at least amicably. You are so awfully pretty! I must have just one----"

but before he could kiss Gladys the police arrived, and Hamar once more retired--with somewhat undignified haste, and more than a little discomfited.

On arriving in c.o.c.kspur Street, Hamar's temper underwent a still further trial. Kelson, taking advantage of his absence, had gone off to tea with Lilian Rosenberg.

In ill-suppressed fury, he waited till they returned.

"A word with you, Matt," he said, as Kelson tried to shuffle past him.

"So this is the way you behave when my back is turned. I suppose you've had a good time!"

"Delightful!"

"And you know the consequences!"

"Only that I'm looking forward to the same thing another day."

"She'll go!"

"She won't," Kelson chuckled. "She is far too valuable. So there, old man! A month ago your threat might have held good. It won't now. You daren't--you positively daren't part with her--because, if you did so, you'd not only part with a good few of your secrets, but you'd part with me."

CHAPTER XVII

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE

"What's to be done with Matt?" Hamar asked Curtis, soon after the interview just recorded. "He's as sweet on Rosensberg as he can be, and says if I dismiss her he'll go too!"

"Then don't dismiss her," Curtis replied. "Leave them both alone, that's my tip. I don't believe Matt's such a fool as to fall in love, and I'm quite sure the girl isn't. Why, she went to the Tivoli with me two nights ago, and to the Empire with another fellow the night before that. It isn't in her to stick to one, she would go with any one who would treat her. Don't worry your head over that. Matt might say 'How about Leon and Gladys Martin.'"

"So he might, but there's no danger there. The girl is deuced pretty--splendid eyes, hair, teeth, hands and all that sort of thing, and I've set my heart on a bit of canoodling with her, but as for love! Well! it's not in my programme."

"Still, stranger things have happened," Curtis said. "Anyhow, I guess you're both mad and that I'm the only sane one. Give me a ten-course dinner at the Savoy, and you may have all the women in London--I don't go a cent on them."

To revert to Kelson. From the hour he had first seen Lilian Rosenberg he had become more and more deeply enamoured. In the hope of meeting her, he had hung about the halls and pa.s.sages of the building; had never missed an opportunity of speaking to her, of feasting himself on the elfish beauty of her face, of squeezing her hand, and of telling her how much he admired her.

"You really mustn't," she said. "Mr. Hamar has given me strict orders to attend to nothing but my work."

"Oh, d.a.m.n Hamar!" Kelson replied, "if I choose to talk to you it's no business of his. You've not treated me well. I got you the post, and it is I you should go out with, not Hamar."

And in the quiet nooks and corners, perched on the window-sill, with one eye kept warily on the guard for fear of interruptions, he told her his history--all about himself from the day of his birth--told her about his parents, his childhood, his schooldays, his hobbies and cranks, his indiscretions, extravagancies, his carousals, debts, flirtations, with just an excusable amount of exaggeration. He even went so far as to speak of a chronic rheumatism, of a twinge of hereditary gout, and of a slightly hectic cough with which, he suddenly remembered, he had at one time, been troubled.

"Don't you think," Lilian Rosenberg said, with mock earnestness, "you are somewhat rash! Have you forgotten that no woman can keep a secret--and you are not telling me one secret but many. Supposing in a fit of thoughtlessness or absent-mindedness, I were to divulge them! I should never forgive myself."

"Would it distress you so much?"

"Of course it would. I should be miserable," she laughed. And Kelson, unable to restrain himself, seized her hands and smothered them with kisses.

"Your fingers would look well covered with rings," he said. "I will give you some, and you shall come with me and choose. Only on no account tell Hamar." And he kissed her--not on the hands this time--but the lips.

Hamar saw him. He watched him from behind the angle of the pa.s.sage wall, but he said nothing--at least, nothing to Kelson. It was to Lilian Rosenberg he spoke.

"It is really not my fault," she said. "I don't encourage him, and if you take my advice, you will not interfere, for I am sure at present he means nothing serious. He is the sort of man who imagines himself in love with every one he meets. If you prevent him seeing me, you may actually bring about the result you are most anxious to avoid."

"I'll risk that," Hamar said, "and I absolutely forbid you doing more than merely saying good morning to him. It is either that, or you must go."

"Well, of course I will do as you wish," Lilian said. "I don't care a snap for him; and, after all, you ought to know your own business best! It is only natural that you should want him to marry some one who can bring money into the Firm."

"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."