"Really, Olive, you seem very much interested in this man." "I am interested in him, Matthew." "Take care that your interest in him does not deepen into something far more dangerous; take care that you don't lose your heart to him." Olive's colourless cheek flushed for a moment, but she answered quite calmly:-- "Your warning on that point is quite unnecessary, Matthew. But you have not answered my question." Kelvin looked at his watch, and then rose hurriedly. It was later than he had thought. He had barely time to catch his train. "Do as you like about it," he said, not without a touch of irritation in his voice. "When my mother and you lay your heads together and conspire against me, I know that I may as well give in at once. Mind you, I don't think this fellow is worth half the trouble that you two women are taking about him." "Blind--blind as ever!" muttered Olive to herself as she stood at the window and watched Kelvin hurrying down the street in the direction of the station. "A woman of my own age and any brains at all would detect ray motive at once, but a man can rarely see beyond his nose." CHAPTER VI. "THAT'S THE MAN!" As already explained, Mr. Piper had a tiny glass-fronted office, or rather den, all to himself, at the far end of the passage which led from the main entrance to Matthew Kelvin's premises. In the wall that divided the sanctum of Mr. Piper from that of his employer, was a small window of ground glass, which had originally been intended as a means of communication between one office and the other. Of late years, however, it had never been so used, Mr. Kelvin having adopted the modern invention of India-rubber tubes as the readiest and most convenient method of making known his wishes either to Mr. Piper or to the clerks in the general office. Since the little window had fallen into disuse, a thick green curtain had been hung across it, in order that the privacy of Kelvin's office might be still further secured; but, as it so happened, the object in view came at last, to be defeated through this very precaution. One cold morning, Mr. Piper, while sparring at an imaginary opponent in order to keep up the circulation of his system, sent his elbow incautiously through one of the panes of the little window. There was no great harm done: a shilling or two would pay for the damage; but, for all that, Pod thought it best not to let Mr. Kelvin know of the accident. He knew that Kelvin was going out of town in the course of a few days, and he would take that opportunity of having the window mended at his own expense. Meanwhile, the curtain would effectually hide what had happened from his employer's notice.