He looked so anxiously at Mr. Welles that Mr. Welles said, kindly: “Oh, see Stewardson. I'll speak to him, if you wish.” “Thank you! Thank you, Mr. Welles,” said Jer-ningham, so gratefully that Welles felt like a philanthropist as he rang the bell to summon the second vice-president. “Mr. Stewardson, Mr. Jemingham, wants to buy some of our stock. I want you to help him in any way possible.” “Delighted, I'm sure!” said the vice-president, very cordially. He was paid to be cordial to customers. “If I had my way I'd be the largest individual stockholder,” said Jerningham, looking at Welles almost adoringly. “I hope you will,” said Welles, pleasantly. “Mr. Stewardson will help you.” Jerningham and Welles shook hands. Then Jerningham and Stewardson left to go to the vice-president's private office. VII The remarkable Miss Keogh was one of those remarkable people who are really remarkable. Within three weeks came a cablegram from her to Mr. Jerningham to the effect that a letter had been sent by Mrs. Deering to her daughter--the first. Mrs. Deering had begun to doubt her own health. Then came cablegrams from her to Mrs. Welles; and in a few days, before Ashton Welles could think of a valid excuse for not letting his wife go to England, Mrs. Welles told him to engage passage for her on the _Ruritania_. It was very unfortunate that he could not accompany her; but the annual meeting was only three weeks away, and the minority, never strong enough to do real damage, always was devilish enough to be very disagreeable to the clique in control. Ashton Welles, after the extremely stupid fashion of all strong men, had always kept the absolute control of the company's affairs in his own hands. It was the one thing he refused to share with his subordinates. He was a czar in his office. He was, in reality, the trust company--or he so believed and so he made others believe. His vice-presidents were merely highly paid office-boys, according to the gossip of the Street, which was not so far out of the way in this particular instance. Ten minutes after Mrs. Ashton Welles engaged Suite D on the _Ruritania_, due to sail on the following day, Jerningham said to Mr. Francis Wolfe: “My boy, I should like you to go to London on business for me--and for yourself. You've got to represent me in a deal with the Arctic Venture Corporation. You will have my power of attorney and you will sign the deed for one of my properties, as soon as they have deposited two hundred and fifty thousand pounds to my credit in Parr's Bank. And also you will call on the prettiest girl in the world--the prettiest, do you hear?--who unfortunately is also the brightest and cleverest. Her name--” He paused and looked at Francis Wolfe meditatively, almost hesitatingly. “Go on!” implored Francis Wolfe. “Her name is Kathryn Keogh and she is stopping at Thornton's Hotel. She will help you find Naida. Miss Keogh is a friend of Mrs. Deering.” “She is Irish--eh?” asked Frank.