"Thanks, no--I'll stand; I only looked in for a minute." Then her face changed a little as she recognized a second man who had been lolling in the background against a crowded dresser. "Hullo, Ben!" she said, and the colour deepened in her cheeks. She and Ben Travers had once been very good friends. There had been a time when she had seriously contemplated taking him on trial as a sweetheart, but her friendship with Faith had put an end to it all, though Ben had never forgiven her, and Peg knew it well enough. The last time she had seen him had been the day when Forrester came to admit his defeat and to ask her to live at his flat, and she realized with a faint sense of discomfort that she and he had grown many miles apart since then. But he only nodded and said, "Hullo, Peg," quite unconcernedly. There was an awkward silence, broken by Peg's mother. "Well, you look a fine enough lady now," she said, a shade of envy in her voice. "How long's it going to last?" "As long as I like," said Peg coolly. She was not going to tell them that already the end of her happiness was in sight. Mrs. Johnson looked at her daughter uncomfortably. "You'd best come in the parlour," she said. "You'll get all messed up if you stay here." But Peg declined to move. She looked at Ben again. "Why aren't you at Heeler's?" she asked. He laughed sheepishly, and exchanged glances with her stepfather. "Because we ain't, that's why," he said, significantly. Peg's mother broke in fretfully: "A lazy, ungrateful lot--that's what I say they are! Never satisfied! What's the use of being out of work for a few extra shillings a week and letting us all starve.... No; I shan't shut up!" she added, as her husband tried to check her flow of eloquence. "It's true, what I'm saying. You've always been treated fair at Heeler's, and never no complaints till that new manager came, but now ... nothing right! Something always wrong." She turned to Peg. "They think they've got a grudge against Mr. Heeler," she explained. "Think! They don't know, mind you! None of 'em!" Peg's eyes dilated a little. "There is no Mr. Heeler," she said, quickly. Ben Travers laughed. "She means Scammel," he explained, "or Forrester, as I dare say you call him now he's spending his money on you!" His face flushed with dull anger as he looked at her. "Fine feathers make fine birds, all right," he said laconically. "But it won't last as long as you think it will, my girl, you mark my words...." He moved away from the dresser and hitched at his collar. "Well, I'm off," he said. Peg followed him out of the kitchen and caught his arm. "What are you hinting at?" she asked quietly, though her heart was racing with apprehension. She knew Ben very well--knew just how reckless and unjust he would be if anybody managed to persuade him that he really had a grievance. He tried to shake her off, but she clung to him.