“A friend of mine,” said Mr. Priestley with considerable dignity, “fastened this foolish contrivance on my wrists. I have managed to get one free, but I cannot liberate the other. Will you please find some instrument to—er—to free me with?” Barker looked at his employer’s wrist, and then at his employer’s red but dignified face. His lips twitched. His face suddenly took on a poached aspect, and then a positively scrambled one. “Very good,” he began bravely, “s-s-s——” A hoarse cry suddenly escaped from him and he dived from the room. Further hoarse sounds were distinctly audible from the passage outside. Mr. Priestley looked at the closed door with considerable interest. “Do you know,” he said with mild wonder, “I believe Barker actually _laughed_ then. He must be human after all.” Mr. Priestley was right. Barker was human. Exceedingly human thoughts were coursing through Barker’s mind as he busied himself in preparing the tea. But what was surprising Barker so very much was to find that Mr. Priestley was human too. “The wicked old sinner!” commented Barker to the tea-caddy. “To think of ’im breaking out like a two-year-old after all this time! Ah, well,” reflected Barker philosophically, “they always do say the older you grow the friskier you get.” In the study the frisky one proceeded to elaborate his plan. “You must have clothes, of course,” he said. “Perhaps we had better go out to-morrow morning and get you some. Now how much money,” asked Mr. Priestley diffidently, “does a girl’s outfit cost? Including everything, I mean?” “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” said Laura warmly, touched afresh by this large-hearted generosity. “It’s out of the question.” “Not at all,” said Mr. Priestley firmly. “It’s essential. Please don’t be obstinate, Laura. You must have clothes. Would—do you think a hundred pounds would be enough to get you what you require? I know women’s clothes are exceedingly expensive,” added Mr. Priestley, somehow contriving to apologise to the object of his charity for this awkward quality of her own garments. Laura gasped. “I always keep a hundred pounds in cash on the premises, just for emergencies,” explained Mr. Priestley happily, “so you see there is no difficulty about that at all.” “For, of course,” added Mr. Priestley’s expression, “one might just as well spend the silly stuff as keep it lying about here for nothing; and just at the moment I think I’d rather spend it on girl’s clothes than anything else.” One gathered from Mr. Priestley’s expression that Laura would really be doing him a very great favour if she would allow Mr. Priestley to spend his own hundred pounds on a number of garments which could be of really very little practical use to himself. “It’s out of the question,” said Laura feebly. “I—I couldn’t hear of it.” “I insist,” retorted Mr. Priestley with his famous imitation of a strong if not silent man. The discussion raged.