Tembarom's appeal grew franker; it took on the note of a too crude young fellow's misplaced confidence. “You do this for me,” he said. “I'd give a farm to go on that boat. The Hutchinsons are sailing on it--Mr. and Miss Hutchinson, the ones you saw at the house last night.” “I--it is really impossible.” Mr. Palford hesitated. “As to steerage, my dear Mr. Temple Barholm, you--you can't.” Tembarom got up and stood with his hands thrust deep in his pockets. It seemed to be a sort of expression of his sudden hopeful excitement. “Why not” he said. “If I own about half of England and have money to burn, I guess I can buy a steerage passage on a nine-day steamer.” “You can buy anything you like,” Palford answered stiffly. “It is not a matter of buying. But I should not be conducting myself properly toward you if I allowed it. It would not be--becoming.” “Becoming!” cried Tembarom, “Thunder! It's not a spring bat. I tell you I want to go just that way.” Palford saw abnormal breakers ahead. He felt that he would be glad when he had landed his charge safely at Temple Barholm. Once there, his family solicitor was not called upon to live with him and hobnob with his extraordinary intimates. “As to buying,” he said, still with marked lack of enthusiasm, “instead of taking a steerage passage on the Transatlantic yourself, you might no doubt secure first-class state-rooms for Mr. and Miss Hutchinson on the Adriana, though I seriously advise against it.” Tembarom shook his head. “You don't know them,” he said. “They wouldn't let me. Hutchinson's a queer old fellow and he's had the hardest kind of luck, but he's as proud as they make 'em. Me butt in and offer to pay their passage back, as if they were paupers, just because I've suddenly struck it rich! Hully gee! I guess not. A fellow that's been boosted up in the air all in a minute, as I have, has got to lie pretty low to keep folks from wanting to kick him, anyhow. Hutchinson's a darned sight smarter fellow than I am, and he knows it--and he's Lancashire, you bet.” He stopped a minute and flushed. “As to Little Ann,” he said--“me make that sort of a break with HER! Well, I should be a fool.” Palford was a cold-blooded and unimaginative person, but a long legal experience had built up within him a certain shrewdness of perception. He had naturally glanced once or twice at the girl sitting still at her mending, and he had observed that she said very little and had a singularly quiet, firm little voice. “I beg pardon. You are probably right. I had very little conversation with either of them. Miss Hutchinson struck me as having an intelligent face.” “She's a wonder,” said Tembarom, devoutly. “She's just a wonder.”