"I’m sure I’m very pleased to see you," he said in a particularly charming voice. Sheila Pat would never have dreamt how exceedingly curt and cutting that voice could be. "Pray sit down." "Thank you." There was a pause, while he watched her pulling down her long coat over her ankles. "You see, I’ve come on business," she said presently, looking up straight into his face. "Oh, indeed. I’m afraid," with a comical shake of his bristly head, "I’m not much good on business matters." "It’s not about money at all. I—" there was just a tiny pause—"I want to know if you—if you would engage me as an extra hand on next Wednesday." "An—extra—hand?" A little pink signal of distress lest he laugh at her flamed in her cheek. "You see," the staid voice grew hurried, "I’m rather small for my age. I’m not really very young. I’m quite six and fourteen weeks, and I—I’m ’ceptionally strong. I could wash the plates and knives and forks, and—and run errings—and fill the water jugs. I’d do anythin’, and I wouldn’t want any wages. The only stippleation I’d make is that I might listen in a corner to Denis’s speech." "It’s very kind of you," the dark eyes behind the glasses were twinkling a good deal, "but I really do not need an—er—extra hand." There was a pause. Sheila Pat swallowed twice, quite loudly. "P’raps," tremulous hope sounded in her voice, "p’raps you’d like me to show people to their seats?" "N-no," he said slowly, "I really don’t think there’s any office I need filling." He stared distressed at the woeful face of Sheila Pat. He polished his glasses with a queer nervousness, this quick-tempered little man before whom so many grown-ups had trembled. "I—" with a trembling burst of desperation, "I could fill the coal skuttles!" He came over and, drawing up a chair, sat down beside her. "Will you tell me why you want to—er—fulfil all these menial offices?" he asked gently. She slid off her chair. "It was to hear Denis, you see. Good-bye, Mr. Yovil." "But—why not come with your brother?" "Nell’s comin’, and you’re full up. Molly doesn’t want to, anyway, because there’d be so many boys starin’." "I shall be very much hurt if you don’t come, too." A little flush rose to her cheeks. "I’m not wishin’ to intrude, thank you; I wasn’t askin’ for _that_! Only, you see, I thought if I could be an extra hand, that would do." He took the hand extended to him, and with his other rubbed his brow wildly. He realised that nothing would induce his small companion to come on the Wednesday merely as a visitor. He stared at her in comical distress. "Good-bye," he said absently. As she reached the door he gave a jubilant shout. "Could you be my Social Prompter, do you think?" She turned back. "Yes," she said. "What is it?" He smiled.