Horace entered, to find himself confronted by Mr. Wackerbath, whose face was purple and whose white whiskers were bristling with rage. "So, sir!" he began. "So, sir!----" and choked ignominiously. "There appears to have been some misunderstanding, my dear Ventimore," explained Beevor, with a studious correctness which was only a shade less offensive than open triumph. "I think I'd better leave you and this gentleman to talk it over quietly." "Quietly?" exclaimed Mr. Wackerbath, with an apoplectic snort; "_quietly!!_" "I've no idea what you are so excited about, sir," said Horace. "Perhaps you will explain?" "Explain!" Mr. Wackerbath gasped; "why--no, if I speak just now, I shall be ill: _you_ tell him," he added, waving a plump hand in Beevor's direction. "I'm not in possession of all the facts," said Beevor, smoothly; "but, so far as I can gather, this gentleman thinks that, considering the importance of the work he intrusted to your hands, you have given less time to it than he might have expected. As I have told him, that is a matter which does not concern me, and which he must discuss with you." So saying, Beevor retired to his own room, and shut the door with the same irreproachable discretion, which conveyed that he was not in the least surprised, but was too much of a gentleman to show it. "Well, Mr. Wackerbath," began Horace, when they were alone, "so you're disappointed with the house?" "Disappointed!" said Mr. Wackerbath, furiously. "I am disgusted, sir, disgusted!" Horace's heart sank lower still; had he deceived himself after all, then? Had he been nothing but a conceited fool, and--most galling thought of all--had Beevor judged him only too accurately? And yet, no, he could not believe it--he _knew_ his work was good! "This is plain speaking with a vengeance," he said; "I'm sorry you're dissatisfied. I did my best to carry out your instructions." "Oh, you did?" sputtered Mr. Wackerbath. "That's what you call--but go on, sir, _go_ on!" "I got it done as quickly as possible," continued Horace, "because I understood you wished no time to be lost." "No one can accuse you of dawdling over it. What I should like to know is how the devil you managed to get it done in the time?" "I worked incessantly all day and every day," said Horace. "That's how I managed it--and this is all the thanks I get for it!" "Thanks?" Mr. Wackerbath well-nigh howled. "You--you insolent young charlatan; you expect thanks!" "Now look here, Mr. Wackerbath," said Horace, whose own temper was getting a little frayed. "I'm not accustomed to being treated like this, and I don't intend to submit to it. Just tell me--in as moderate language as you can command--what you object to?"