"Ah, is it so? I can't say how that may be, I'm sure; but I know they kept so closely to the letter of their contracts with my bank, that it almost crossed the border line from strict business to sharp dealing." "I'm sorry you should have been annoyed, but I know nothing about it. We--my father, is interested in sugar, and that, as you see, wouldn't bring us into any connection with their line of business." "No, of course not. Do you happen to know who _are_ the heads of the firm in this country?" "I haven't any idea," the Secretary answered, very tersely. "I fancy they're in the nature of silent partners. But I dare say they might be known in business circles." "Oh, the matter doesn't interest me--except as I've mentioned. It was recalled to my mind by some notice of a treaty I saw the other day in the papers--which I should fancy would rather cripple their resources, if it went through." The Secretary held his peace, and silence falling upon the room, the Reverend Reginald deposited the butt of his cigar tenderly in the ash-tray, and blew his nose lustily, as a preparatory signal for a retreat to the upper regions. The others obeyed the hint, and a moment later were on their way to the drawing-room. * * * * * Miss Fitzgerald's resentment towards the Lieutenant had been short-lived, and she was quite ready to aid and abet him to the extent of her power, the more so as his success would upset the most cherished plans of the Marchioness, who was, for the time being, the Irish girl's pet detestation. Accordingly she took up her station near that matron, who descended on her forthwith. "I suppose, my dear," said the Dowager, with an assumption of friendly interest that was even more terrible to behold than the coldness of her wrath, "I _can_ only suppose, from what I could not help observing at table this evening, that you are soon to be a subject of congratulations." "Really I don't understand." "Of course, I shouldn't think of forcing your confidence, but when an engagement is unannounced there's a degree of uncertainty." "Oh, but I think you're mistaken," said Miss Fitzgerald, lifting her liquid blue eyes to the Dowager's face, with an expression of innocence, which was the perfection of art. "I'm much too young to think of such things--besides, who'd have me, with no dower except my beauty, such as it is, which, as your Ladyship knows, is not lasting." The Marchioness fairly snorted with rage. She had been a Court belle in her time. "Some country parson, perhaps," continued Miss Fitzgerald reflectively; "but then I fear I should not make a good parson's wife." "I should doubt it," assented the Dowager with asperity. "No millionaires would think of me for a moment." "I did not know there were any such here." "What, not Mr. Stanley?" "Mr. Stanley?"