"I’m only a beginner," he went on, and his voice was a trifle hurt. "One can’t pick up all sorts of technical knowledge in a month, or even a year...." "Technical knowledge isn’t wanted, Herbert—so much as human knowledge, personality. I could run those works—with the help of Mr. Thompson and the other managers.... Ah, dear!" she bent forward quickly. "I don’t want to hurt you. But I just can’t imagine what would have happened if dad had gone round the works with us this morning.... I believe it would have almost killed him...." "Very well, dear, if those are your feelings there is no more to be said." With quiet dignity her fiancé rose to his feet. "If you are not satisfied with me..." He left the sentence unfinished. "I am," she cried, quickly. "I am, Herbert—perfectly satisfied. But..." "Then don’t think any more about it," he said, quickly. "I’ll go down, little girl, and find out what the trouble is. And then I’ll put it right, and let you know...." "You’ll let me know this evening, won’t you?" For a moment he hesitated. "If possible, Marjorie...." "But of course it’s possible," she cried, impulsively. "At our works, you’ve only got to ask.... Have the men together and ask....." The Honourable Herbert’s face was expressionless, as he bent over and kissed her. "Quite so, darling," he murmured. "Quite so. Don’t worry about it any more...." And it was not until he was at the wheel of his car driving back to his office that he gave vent to his real feelings. "Ask the men?" He saw himself doing it. The cursed luck of the thing. But for that one episode yesterday, he could have bluffed it through, until they were married at any rate. After that he had never had an intention of carrying on a deception which bored him to extinction: there would be no need to.... But now.... The marvel to him was that they hadn’t struck already. And once they did, and John Frenton came down to the works and the cause became known—good-bye to his hopes of the future. Marjorie would never forgive him. And as the realization of what that would entail struck him seriously for the first time, he swore savagely. He had been banking on the Frenton millions not only morally but actually. And if they failed to materialize.... Once again he cursed under his breath.... It was after dinner that night that Marjorie made up her mind. She had twice rung up her fiancé with no result. The first time he had not come in: the second he had just gone out—to the local theatre, the servant believed. With a frown she hung up the receiver, and turning away walked slowly to her father’s study. "I want to see the book of addresses, daddy," she said, quietly. It was one of old Frenton’s hobbies to have the address of every one of his men entered in a large book, which enabled periodical gifts to arrive if there was any illness in the family. "It’s over there, girlie," he said, with a sleepy smile. "What do you want it for?"