“He understands,” remarked the second partner. “I am sure Mr. Barnes quite understands. Now let us see about drafting the apology.” “I think I’d better see to that.” “Now, my dear old friend,” urged the conciliatory partner. A most abject apology it was, and the only encouragement for Erb came from the severe partner, who recommended several additions intended to make it of a more cringing nature. Erb signed it after a moment’s hesitation, and gave a great sigh of relief when he found himself in Holborn again; he knew that there would be some trouble in convincing his Committee that he had acted throughout with wisdom, but he had so much assurance in his own powers of speech, he had so often taken difficult positions by reason of his own generous ammunition of words, and of their short supply, that he felt confident of success. All the same, the incident would do him no good, and a repetition would undoubtedly weaken his power. Number Three of “The Carman” came out rather opportunely, for he was able to present a copy to Rosalind and to Louisa on the day he saw them off from London Bridge. They were going to Worthing. Aunt Emma, who had not viewed the sea since childhood’s days, was going there from Penshurst in order to ascertain whether it had changed much. Louisa had to be taken to the station in a four-wheeler, and as she was helped along by her two companions through a rush of arriving City men, the girl seemed proud of the notice that her white face attracted. Erb recited the stinging paragraph that concerned Louisa’s late employers through the open carriage window, when Rosalind had made her patient comfortable with cushions. Two of Louisa’s sweethearts, friends in the presence of disaster, stood away against a lamp-post, and toyed with automatic machines. “That’s one up against them,” said Louisa with relish. She smiled, but the look soon faded. “If this don’t have any effect,” declared Erb, “I shall follow it up with something stronger. I’ll never let go of ’em.” “Shouldn’t like the other gels to lose their shops,” remarked Louisa apprehensively. “But you wouldn’t see ’em all get ill like you are?” “I’m not reely ill,” said Louisa. “I’m only pretendin’. Besides, some gels can stand the work and some can’t.” “Make her get better,” said Erb to Rosalind. “Don’t let her have her own way too much.” “Not much use having anyone else’s,” remarked Louisa, with an effort at the old pertness. “If she gets up to any of her nonsense send me a telegram.” “I’ll write to you very often,” said Rosalind quietly. “Let me know—let me know if you see Lady Frances.” The guard cried, “Stand away!” and gave the signal to start. Erb put his head in and kissed his sister’s face. “Might as well serve both alike,” suggested Louisa sportively. She rubbed her eyes with her glove. “Don’t dare,” said Erb.