All of her position reposed, and was developed by her, on the cruel disabilities of those who earn their bread in the East. For all such, married, comes, in time, the sad and the costly business of the divided home,--the two establishments, the sundering of children and parents, of husband and wife. By the age of seven at latest, the children have to be sent home for health and education. Then the sundering, the losing of touch, the compulsion upon the man, that those at home may be promptly supported, to deny himself year after year the longed-for visit home. The losing of touch.... Invaluable to them to have in Field’s, in “that Mrs. Occleve” a link, known personally or by reputation, that was useable as relations (capricious, “touchy,” interfering) often are not useable; and dependable as relations, unpractical, certainly are not always dependable. Invaluable to the clients; declared by Mr. Field and by Mr. Sturgiss to be invaluable to the bank; absorbing and splendid to Rosalie. “And still,” Mr. Sturgiss was always saying, “still capable of much bigger development.” He sketched one day a development that would be a stride indeed. It began to be discussed by the three. It connoted so absolute a recognition of Rosalie’s worth that she decided--lest it should fall through--she would not mention it to Harry till either it was fallen through or was afoot. Then! It made her busy. She told Harry once, when they’d been talking of how much at office she was kept, of her work, and of the place she was making for herself, “Well, it’s not bad, Harry,” she told him. “It’s not bad. I’ll admit that. What pleases me is that it’s only a beginning; well as it’s going, and long as I’ve now been at it, only a beginning. I can’t, as I’ve often said to you, be doing all this without getting a long insight into the actual banking business. Oh, don’t you remember my telling you about that appalling evening when I told poor Uncle Pyke that I wanted to be a banker? How outraged he was! Poor person, how rightly outraged! The ridiculous notion that I ever could be a banker! A grotesque dream!” She gave a small laugh as if tenderly smiling at image before her of that innocent, eager girl at the Pyke Pounce table. She said softly, “A grotesque dream. Now, with patent limitations--not a dream.” It was like that that Time (disguised as triumph) kept out of the way; and similarly disguised, showed no sign either on the children’s side. All splendid there! Growing up! Huggo set to school! Huggo learnt with Miss Prescott till he was nine, then attended daily a first-rate school for little boys in Kensington, at eleven started as a boarder at a preparatory school for Tidborough. Next he was to go to the great public school itself, afterwards to Oxford and the Bar. All’s well! Time had nothing at all to say during the first two stages of the programme. It was in Huggo’s first holidays from the preparatory school that Time whipped out his blade and pounced.