"Yes; but, you see, years ago she was my mother's dearest friend. That's how I came to be their secretary. When she saw my name in the advertisement she thought it must be me. And it was me. They hadn't seen each other for years and years. My father and Mr. Waddington didn't hit it off together, I believe." "You haven't seen him yet?" "No. There seems to be some mystery about him." "Mystery?" "Yes. What is it? Or mayn't you tell?" "I _won't_ tell. It wouldn't be kind." "Then don't--don't. I didn't know it was that sort of thing." Ralph laughed. "It isn't. I meant it wouldn't be kind to you. I don't want to spoil him for you." "Then there _is_--tell me one thing: Shall I get on with him all right?" "Don't ask me _that_." "I mean, will he be awfully difficult to work with?" "Because he sacked me? No. Only you mustn't let on that you know better than he does. And if you want to keep your job, you mustn't contradict him." "Now you've made me want to contradict him. Whatever he says I shall have to say the other thing whether I agree with him or not." "Don't you think you could temporize a bit? For her sake." "Did _you_ temporize?" "Rather. I was as meek and servile as I knew how." "As you knew how. Do you think I shall know better?" "Yes, you're a woman. You can get on the right side of him. Will you try to, because of Fanny? I'm most awfully glad she's got you, and I want you to stay. Between you and me she has a very thin time with Waddington." "There it is. I know--I know--I _know_ I'm going to hate him." "Oh, no, you're not. You can't _hate_ Waddington." "_You_ don't?" "Oh, Lord, no. I wouldn't mind him a bit, poor old thing, if he wasn't Fanny's husband." He had almost as good as owned it, almost put her in possession of their secret. She conceived it--his secret, Fanny's secret--as all innocence on her part, all chivalry on his; tender and hopeless and pure. 2 They had come to the white gate that led between the shrubberies and the grass-plot with the yellow-grey stone house behind it.