Sarah Lady Garribardine said to her nephew, Gerard Strobridge, who had been lunching with her on that Saturday: "You must go now, G. I am expecting a new secretary." "How will you get on without Miss Arnott, Seraphim? I thought she was irreplaceable." "So she is--I am interviewing quite a new type--she has been a moneylender's shorthand typist." Mr. Strobridge raised his eyebrows--and smiled his whimsical smile. His Aunt Sarah always was original. "Then I'll leave you--Beatrice has at last made up her mind not to chuck the Arberrys, so we motor down at three o'clock." "Has Beatrice been unusually tiresome?" "N-no--she has been writing odes all the morning." "You ought never to have married, G.--You would not have if Alice Southerwood had not become a widow--a man can't always face his obvious obligations." Gerard Strobridge laughed. "Then I shall kiss your hand and say farewell until next week--wisest of aunts!" He suited the action to the word, and left the room just as the butler was about to open the door and announce: "Miss Bush, Your Ladyship." He glanced quickly at Katherine--this was the young person who would take the estimable Miss Arnott's place, he supposed. She was quite ordinary looking.--He went on down the stairs. "Come and sit here in the light, please," Lady Garribardine said, as Katherine Bush came towards her. It was a very well-arranged Katherine, in the best blue serge--and a new hat--not of Gladys' choosing. The mop of hair was twisted tight without the least pretension to express "the look,"--some grey suede gloves--bought in Paris by Lord Algy--were on the wonderful hands which remained perfectly still in their owner's lap. "How old are you?" asked Lady Garribardine by way of a beginning. "I was twenty-two last September." There was not a trace of nervousness in Katherine Bush's deep voice--indeed she felt none. "And what does your family consist of--what is your status in life?" Lady Garribardine felt perhaps she ought to ascertain this before going further. "We are just middle class. My father was an auctioneer at Bindon's Green where we live. He and my mother are both dead. I have a sister who is a saleswoman at Madame Ermantine's, the others are at home. My eldest brother has taken father's place, the younger one is in a bank." "And how long have you been at this business?" "Since I was nineteen--before that I kept the accounts at a pork butcher's." "Indeed!----And what makes you think you would be capable of filling my situation?" "It is not very easy to be a competent moneylender's secretary and a shorthand writer." "No--perhaps not." "Mr. Livingston and Mr. Devereux will tell you that I did not make a failure of it." "Really?" Katherine was silent. "_Really_," Lady Garribardine repeated again. "You mean that you think you can pick up things quickly." "Yes." "It is certainly an advantage. I hoped to find something exceptional when I advertised."