"The Right Honourable Lady," chanted the graceless Timothy, "then resumed her seat amid applause, having spoken for an hour and fifty minutes. Very well, I will leave you. I shall go and hold Brand's hand in the garage. He loves me, anyhow. Hallo! I say--" Miss Jennings's serene countenance had flushed crimson. "Have I said anything to offend you?" asked Tim, in some concern. "I am awfully sorry if I have. I was only rotting, you know. I had no idea Brand was a friend of yours." Miss Jennings, recovering herself quickly, replied with some asperity that he was no such thing, and again announced that she had some work to do and that the conversation would now terminate. But it did not. There was a magnetism about Tim which invited confidences. * * * * * "I say, Philip, old son," remarked Tim, as they walked down Piccadilly the following Sunday afternoon, "are you aware that our office has become a home of romance?" Philip did not reply. His thoughts for the moment were centred upon more absorbing business. Presently he said:-- "I think I shall take a long run to-morrow and give it a proper trial on one or two really bad hills, and then go down to Coventry and see Bilston again." Tim sighed gently, and replied:-- "Permit me to remind you, O most excellent Theophilus,"--this was his retaliation for being addressed as "my son Timothy,"--"that to-day is the Sabbath, and that we have left the Britannia Motor Company and all its works, including the Meldrum Never-Acting Brake, behind us for the space of twenty-four hours. In addition, we have washed ourselves and put on celluloid dickeys, and are now going to the Park to see Suffragettes. Let us be bright." "Did I tell you the patent has been granted all right?" pursued Philip, referring presumably to the Meldrum Never-Acting Brake. "You did," said Tim resignedly. "Seven times yesterday and five this morning." "The Company simply must take it up," continued the single-minded inventor. "The brakes of the Britannia cars have always been their weakness, and now that we are building heavier and heavier bodies things are riskier than ever. Our present brake-power can't be developed any further: even Bilston admits that. My brake is magnetic--a different principle altogether. Its reserve of power is enormous. It would stop a motor-bus." "Yes, dear old thing," said Tim soothingly. "I am sure it would. And if you don't come out of the gutter on to the pavement you will stop one, too, and then I shall have to waste a day taking you to Kensal Green in instalments." He linked his arm in that of his preoccupied friend, and having drawn him into a place of safety, repeated his former question. "Are you aware that our office has become a home of romance?" Philip replied that he had not noticed it.