An instruction she complied with the more readily because a hand waved to her from a carriage next to the engine. Half a dozen young men sprang up and offered places; she thanked them, and, apparently anxious not to be accused of favouritism, decided to hold by the rack and talk to young Pangbourne. As the train took a curve he had to hold her by the arm, but this she did not seem to mind. Pangbourne’s directors were, of course, to be present at the game. A hurried conference had taken place that morning in the waiting-room of a London terminal station, and the price of James McWinter, on Mr. Pangbourne’s urgent suggestion, had been fixed at a price that far exceeded the limit mentioned by Miss Amherst’s father. “That’s capital!” she declared gratefully—“capital in more senses than one. You see, Willie, I can remember the time when we were hard up at home, and I recollect how my mother had to scheme and contrive. I don’t want to find myself going back. And the sum represents such an awful lot of money. Football’s a good sport, but there are other games.” “Marriage, for instance?” “We can talk of that,” she said composedly, “later on. Let’s settle one matter first. We mustn’t be seen talking to each other, mind.” Mr. Amherst apologised to his daughter, as they made their way to the entrance to the ground, for his apparent neglect, and she accepted his excuses so readily that he felt bound to point out that, in a general way, he did look after her very carefully, adding that there was no one else to do this. Everything, said Mr. Amherst, with a touch of importance and a hint at real affection, devolved upon him, and he was not the man to flinch responsibilities. She inquired, deferentially, whether he considered it wise to pay out such a large sum of money for James McWinter. He replied that James was worth the figure mentioned the previous night, but not a penny, not a halfpenny more. If the other club began to haggle and bargain and huckster, he, Mr. Amherst, would instantly withdraw. “And what I say,” he declared, “as you very well know, is what I stick to. My first word is my last word. Is that so, my dear, or isn’t it?” “You’re an extraordinary man, father.” He appeared content with this vague admission.