"Give me his address," commanded her lover. "I'll stop his love-making propensities. Where does this greasy Lothario hang out?" But Jill was too discreet to say. "I forget," she answered lamely; "I never was good at locality. Don't look so savage, Jack; he only chucked me under the chin once, and I washed my face well directly I got back, indeed I did; I scrubbed so hard that I rubbed the skin off, I remember, and it was sore for two days." "You ought to have returned the work at once," grumbled St. John. "I am surprised at your taking it after that." "Surprised!" she repeated. "You wouldn't have been so astonished had you lived for a few days on a stale crust, and expected to dine the next off the crumbs if by good luck there happened to be any crumbs left." "Oh! Jill," he exclaimed, "I'm a brute dear. Has it ever been as bad as that, my poor little girl?" Jill nodded affirmatively, and then let her head recline contentedly against his shoulder, glad to nestle within the comforting security of his strong arms, and feel that there she could find both shelter and defence. "Have you told your father yet?" she asked a little nervously. "No, dear," he answered. Then added quickly, "I will some time to-day, though." "Yes," she said, "don't put it off any longer; I think that he ought to know; and yet I feel somehow that his knowing will put an end to all this pleasant fooling. Oh! Jack, I'm such a horrid little coward, I know I am." She lifted her face, and he saw that she was laughing even though the tears stood in her eyes. "If you feel like that," he said tenderly, kissing the upturned face, "why not get married first and tell him afterwards?" "Oh! Jack, fie," she cried; "you are turning coward too." "Not I," he contradicted stoutly, then added with a smile, "I think I am though; I'm so terribly afraid of your slipping through my fingers, you eel." "Oh, you dear!" whispered Jill softly. "It _is_ nice to have someone wanting you so badly as all that. I won't slip through though; I am far too comfortable where I am." CHAPTER TEN. The following day, St. John entered the studio with a face the gravity of which boded no good for their plans, Jill feared. She knew at once that his father had refused to countenance the match, and although she had not dared to hope for his sanction, the knowledge that he had positively denied it came upon her with a sense of shock. Not for one moment did she think of resenting his objection, nor of questioning his right to forbid the marriage, she just crept within the shelter of St. John's arms and stayed there, her face, with its flush of mortification, hidden against his breast. "The governor's a silly old fool," St. John exclaimed savagely, thinking less, perhaps, of the girl's discomfort than his own personal grievances. "He's cut me off with nothing--at least five hundred pounds; he gave me a cheque for that amount before giving me the kick out."