Expostulation proved of no use. The suggestion of error was scoffed at as an idea too ridiculous to be entertained. Goods were charged for which never entered the gates of Mortomley's factory; when a bill was renewed, the old bill reappeared at some unexpected juncture, and was treated as a separate transaction; when drugs so inferior that nothing could be done with them were returned, no credit was given on the transaction. Receipt notes, when the carmen could obtain such documents, were treated as waste paper or as referring to some other affair from that under consideration. In fact, let who else be wrong, Mr. Forde and the General Chemical Company must be right. That was the manager's solemnly expressed conviction. According to his bewildering creed, if an entry were wrong in the first book, supposing such an impossibility possible, it was made right by being repeated through twenty other books, and finally audited by two incompetent gentlemen, who would thankfully have declared black to be white for a couple of guineas a day. It may not require any great amount of brains for a man to know his affairs are becoming involved; but it does require a certain order of intellect, at all events, to be able to state the precise cause of his want of success. In trade, when once one thing begins to go wrong, so many others immediately follow suit, that it is difficult to lay a finger on the real seat of disease; and if this is found almost invariably to be the case, when a man comes to answer questions concerning the reasons for his failure, it can be regarded as only natural that, what with Rupert's utter ignorance of even the rudiments of prudent business management, and Mortomley's natural unsuspiciousness of disposition, matters had come to a pretty pass before it occurred to Mr. Halling that the road to St. Vedast Wharf would, if longer traversed, end in total ruin. And now Mortomley had, with his "eyes open," as Rupert indignantly remarked when speaking at a later period to Dolly about the managerial interview, "made some ridiculous compact with Mr. Forde, who will lead him the life of the----" Rupert's comparisons were sometimes strong, but Mrs. Mortomley did not rebuke him for that part of his sentence. She put on her armour to do battle for her husband. "He is not a child," she answered; "he knows very well what he is about. He is not so conceited as you, but he is much cleverer; and if he, for his own purposes, choose to make a compact as you call it with Mr. Forde, it is not for you to criticize his conduct. You have not managed affairs so admirably yourself that you should feel at liberty to condemn the management of other people." The young man turned scarlet. If Dolly had given him a blow in the face, he could not have felt more astonished. He would have given anything at that moment to be able to remain cool and hide his annoyance, but the stab came too fast and the pain was too sharp for that to be possible.