"Really now, and a clever person like you!" Mrs. Lovegrove passed her handkerchief across her forehead again. "George has a wonderful opinion of your cleverness, you know. And that is why I have always wished you and the vicar could be brought together. I have--yes, I own to it--I have been afraid sometimes you were a little unsettled about religion, and that it might unsettle Georgie, too. But I knew if you once met the vicar that would all be set right. As I often say to George, let anybody just _see_ Dr. Nevington and then they will begin to have an inkling of all they miss in not hearing him in the pulpit." But here, perhaps fortunately, the master of the house trotted back. He, too, beamed. He was filled with innocent rejoicing. Had he not successfully protected the wife's feelings, and was not Iglesias--who remained to him a wonderful being, stirring whatever element of romance might be resident in his guileless nature--present in person? "Why, what's the meaning of this, Dominic?" he chuckled. "You've turned over a new leaf, gadding round to at-home days! Where's Threadneedle Street? What's come over you?" "Threadneedle Street and I have agreed to part company." "What, for good? Never?" this from both husband and wife. "Yes, for good," Iglesias said. Mr. Lovegrove ceased to beam. He became anxious again, and consequently solemn. "Well, you do surprise me," he said. "Nothing gone wrong, I trust? Not any unpleasantness happened?" "None," Iglesias answered. In breaking the news to these kindly but rudimentary souls he had determined to treat it very lightly. "I have come to the conclusion that I have worked long enough. It is a mistake to risk dying in harness. You retired, Lovegrove, three years ago. I am going to look about me a little and see what the rest of the world is doing." "You'll miss the bank, and feel a little strange at first. Georgie did, though he had his home to interest him," Mrs. Lovegrove remarked. "Undoubtedly George was more fortunate than I am," Iglesias replied, in his most courtly manner. "Not but that all that could be easily remedied," she added, with a touch of archness. Then Mr. Iglesias thought it time to depart. In the hall his host held him, literally by the buttonhole, looking up with squinting blue eyes into his face. "It's all rather sudden, Dominic," he said. "I do not want to intrude upon your confidence; but if there is anything behind, anything in which I can help?" Mr. Iglesias shook his head. "Nothing, my good old friend," he said. "The wife's right, you know. You'll miss the bank, the regular hours, and the occupation. She's quite right. I did at first." "I know. But already I have pretty well got through that phase, I think."