"I _could_ do with a few more frocks, Hughie," said Miss Gaymer wistfully, "if it wouldn't be a bother to change those investments about a bit, as Ursula advises. Still, if it can't be done, we'll say no more about it." "Will another hundred a-year be any use to you?" said Hughie suddenly. "Oh, Hughie, I should _think_ so! Can it be managed without a fearful upset?" cried Miss Gaymer, her eyes already brightening over a vista of blouse-lengths and double-widths. "Yes," said Hughie shortly. "I'll--I'll make the necessary changes and see that the cash is paid into your banking account." "You dear!" said Miss Gaymer, with sincerity. "A hundred pounds? It might be more!" observed the daughter of the horse-leech on the sofa. Fourteen per cent still rankled in her Napoleonic brain. Hughie crossed to the writing-table and tore up a telegraph-form. "Capt'n Leroy!" announced Mr. Goble's voice in the doorway. That easy-going paladin entered the room, and intimated that his wife had sent him along to say that she would arrive in ten minutes. "That means twenty," said Joan. "Ursula, we have just time to run round and see that hat we thought we'd better not decide about until we had heard from Hughie about the thing we came to see him about. Now I can try it on with a clear conscience. Back directly, Hughie!" She flitted out, the prospective hundred pounds obviously burning a hole in her pocket (or wherever woman in the present era of fashion keeps her money), followed by Miss Harbord. Hughie turned to Leroy. "Take a cigarette, old man," he said, "and sit down with a glass of sherry while I do myself up for lunch. Been down at Putney." Leroy obeyed. When Hughie returned from his bedroom a quarter of an hour later, he found that Mrs. Leroy had arrived. She and her husband were engaged in a low-toned conversation, which they broke off rather abruptly on their host's entrance. Hughie shook hands, and sweeping some newspapers off the sofa, offered his latest-arrived guest a seat. "No, thanks, Hughie," said Mrs. Leroy; "I prefer to look out of the window." She walked across the room and began to gaze down into the street with her back to Hughie. Her husband, evidently struck with the suitability of this attitude, rose and joined her. "The fact is, Hughie," began Mrs. Leroy, staring resolutely at the house opposite, "Jack and I want to talk to you like a father and mother, and I can do it more easily if I look the other way." "Same here," corroborated Leroy gruffly. Hughie started, and surveyed the guilty-looking pair of backs before him with an uneasy suspicion. Surely he was not going to be treated to a third variation on the same theme! "Go on, Jack!" was Mrs. Leroy's next remark. "Can't be done, m'dear," replied the gentleman, after an obvious effort. "Well, Hughie," continued Mrs. Leroy briskly, "as this coward has failed me, I must say it myself. I want to tell you that people are talking."