Mark Inglefield inwardly congratulated himself. Not a suspicion crossed his mind that he and Mr. Manners, in this contention, were mentally travelling different roads. He was thinking only of his own interests; Mr. Manners was thinking of Kingsley. "May I ask," said Mark Inglefield, "whether Miss Hollingworth was present during your interview with her father?" "She was present at no part of it," replied Mr. Manners. "Then the difficulty you refer to did not spring from her." "It did not." "Nor from you, I hope, sir?" "No, nor from me." "Surely Mr. Hollingworth raised no objection?" "He was not the originator of it." Mark Inglefield took heart of grace. Whatever grievance had arisen--and he was too wary to demand its nature with any show of indignation; it might lead to the idea that he himself was conscious of something blamable in his conduct; it was by far the best to avoid anything that savored of heat, and to maintain the attitude he had always assumed with Mr. Manners--whatever grievance, then, had arisen must be purely imaginary, and could be easily explained away. "I await your pleasure," he said, "and am ready, as I have already stated, to give you any explanation you require." "The interview between Mr. Hollingworth and myself," said Mr. Manners, his eyes fixed upon Mark Inglefield's face, in which no trace of discomposure was visible, "was nearly at an end, when a visitor was announced. It is not my habit to beat about the bush, Inglefield. The name of this visitor was Parkinson." Not a muscle in Mark Inglefield's features twitched, although he recognized at once the precipice upon which he was standing. "Parkinson," he repeated, in a tone of unconcern. "Do you know a man of that name?" asked Mr. Manners. "Parkinson! Parkinson!" said Mark Inglefield, as though searching his memory. "No. I am not acquainted with any man bearing that name." "Nor with any woman?" "Nor with any woman," replied Mark Inglefield, coolly. "It is only fair that you should be told what this man revealed." "If it affects me, certainly, though I am completely in the dark. The person was admitted, then?" "He would not be denied. It appears that he has called repeatedly at Mr. Hollingworth's house, with the purpose of seeing that gentleman, and he refused to go away now without being satisfied." "As you evidently suppose me to be implicated in the revelation--I adopt your own term, sir--he made, I am entitled to ask whether he is a gentleman." "He is a working-man." Mark Inglefield leaned back in his chair with an air of content, expressing in this action a consciousness of complete innocence. "I was really beginning to fear," he said, "that a charge had been brought against me by one whose words would have some weight." "Mr. Parkinson's words had considerable weight," said Mr. Manners, "and the tale he related was true." "It is not for me to dispute with you, but I am all curiosity, sir."