looking the sea,
from where each dear beauty of the place was visible.

"Will it hurt you greatly to leave it, dear?" he asked, prefacing the
inevitable with question of her will to do so.

"Just as much as it will hurt you. No more or less," she answered, her
head against his arm. "But I am glad it is so good to leave."

"That's my mind, too. How do you know what I mean, though?"

"I've always known it must come, Christopher."

She spoke low and looked away, weakly hoping for the moment he would
leave it at that, but Christopher never left uncertain points behind
him.

"You knew I should come to take this other work--this inheritance?"

She nodded. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to him.

"Why didn't you tell me so, Patricia?"

"I was so sure you would know yourself. I hated to be the one to
speak," her voice shook a little. "Oh, forgive me, Christopher,
dearest," she cried suddenly, "it was weak of me, for I did know
always, only I wanted all this for a little time so badly. Just a
taste of the beautiful good life you had planned. I thought it would
not matter, just two years."

He put his arms round her and drew her close.

"We have had it, beloved. It has been beyond anything I ever dreamt.
Only--" his voice broke a little, "we must remember it had to be paid
for--No, no," he cried, seeing the wave of sorrow sweep over her face,
"not you. It is I who should have known and listened. My fault!"

"It is I who should have spoken," she said steadily, "we can't divide
ourselves even in this, dear, but we can bear it together."

"And pay the debt together," he added and raised her face to his and
kissed her. And they crossed the Threshold of the New with this
understanding between them.

CHAPTER XXXVI

In the great buildings in Princes Street, Birmingham, the days
continued as of old, with the ebb and flow of business. On each floor
clerks bent over their high desks and the workers of each concern sat
behind their mahogany defences and toiled early and late for the
treasure they desired. At stated times rows of grave gentlemen, who
carried due notice of their own importance on their countenances, met
in the respective committee rooms, and discussed wide interests with
closed doors and a note of anxious irritation that was new since the
demise of Peter Masters.

He who had concentrated the whole of the executive business of these
many affairs under one roof had done so of definit