Ryland slid into the big chair beside his sister and with one arm squeezed her to him. Mangane, watching in some amazement, had difficulty in repressing a stab of jealousy at sight of the flush of pleasure on the girl’s face. Presumably, this must be Ryland Fratten, her half-brother; there was nothing to worry about. “Ry, have you met Mr. Mangane? This is my brother, Mr. Mangane.” “Steady. Half-brother; give the devil his due.” Mangane nodded in acknowledgment of the introduction, but Ryland struggled to his feet, walked round the tea-table, and held out his hand. “I’m so glad you’ve come,” he said. “You’re obviously human. Dune was a machine—and I never found the right butter to put into it. I want all the human beings I can get at headquarters.” The charm of his smile, rather than the flippant words, melted the slight chill in the secretary’s manner and for a few minutes he remained talking to Inez, while Ryland sat on the sofa, eating chocolate cake and muttering to himself. “Mangane. Permangane. What play does that remind me of? Oh, I know: _Potash and Perlmutter_.” Mangane laughed and rose to his feet. “You’ve been studying Mr. Pelman,” he said. “Well, I must go and earn my keep. Thank you so much, Miss Fratten.” When he had gone, Inez turned to her brother. “Anything the matter?” she asked. He was silent for a minute, staring at the fire. He looked very slim and young in his well-cut blue suit, but there were dark shadows under his eyes and his skin did not look healthy. “Why do you ask that?” he said at last. “Why are you dining here tonight?” “Is it as bad as all that?—Do I only dine here when something’s the matter?” She nodded. “That’s about what it amounts to.” “Yes, I suppose it is,” he agreed with a sigh. “And so there is—something the matter.” “What?” asked Inez, with her accustomed directness. Before he could answer the butler appeared, saying that Mr. Hessel would like to see Miss Fratten if she was not engaged. “Plagues of his Israel!” muttered Ryland angrily. “Who wouldn’t be a Pharaoh?—only I’d have done the job thoroughly.” Inez glared at him and told Golpin to show Mr. Hessel in. Fortunately for Ryland there was no time for her to tell him what she evidently thought of him before Hessel appeared in the doorway. With a sulky scowl on his face, Ryland muttered some sort of greeting and was about to edge his way out of the room when Hessel stopped him. “Don’t go, Ryland,” he said. “I’d like you to hear what I’ve got to say, as well as Inez.” With none too good a grace Ryland complied. Inez, with unerring instinct, went straight to the point. “Is anything the matter with father?” Hessel nodded. “It’s about that—no, no, my dear, there’s nothing immediately serious,” he interposed hurriedly, seeing the look of almost terrified anxiety on the girl’s face. “He’s quite all right. But something serious _will_ happen if you don’t both help me. How much has he told you about himself?”