has seen specimens of his work and says it's
excellent. I should think that Mr. Bindlecombe knew!" (Meaning thereby,
as the lawyers say, that I did not!)

"Well?"

"Can't you really guess? He's to be the Institute clerk. He'll draw
plans and so on for us--and she'll keep the house, and have it all ready
for our Committees."

"He's to live at Ivydene?"

"Have you any objection?"

Up to now Jenny's tone had been evenly compounded of merriment--over my
absurdities--and plausibility for her own admirable management. Now a
slightly different note crept in. "Have you any objection?" was not said
in a very conciliatory manner.

"I might have anticipated," she went on--"in fact I do anticipate--these
stupid objections from Mr. Cartmell--and I'm prepared to meet them. But
from you I looked for more perception. The man is a clever man; he's out
of employment. Why shouldn't I employ him? Is it to be fatal to him that
he was once unwise--worse than unwise? Against that, put that he's an
old friend, and that even I have my human feelings. I was a fool, but I
was fond of him once."

"It's for you to judge," I said.

"Can't you see--can't you understand?" she exclaimed. "Powers is
nothing--it's all over, gone, done with!" She clasped her hands
excitedly. "Oh, when I've so much on my shoulders, why do you worry me
with trifles?"

"If you've so much on your shoulders, why add even trifles?"

"I add nothing," she said. "On the contrary I--" She broke off suddenly,
and added quickly, "It's done--I'm pledged to him. Oh, don't bother me
about Powers!" She calmed down again. She returned to plausibility. She
went on with a smile, "You've found me out in one way, of course. I do
want my own man there. I want my own way in everything, so I want a man
who'll back me up--a man who'll always be on my side, who won't suddenly
go over to Lord Fillingford, or the Rector--or even Lady Sarah! Poor
Powers will have to agree with me always--he'll have to be a blind
adherent. He can't afford to differ."

"That's frank, at all events," I commented.

Jenny's face lit up. "Yes, it is," she said, with much better temper.
"Quite frank--the whole truth about Jenny Driver! He'll be what I
want--and do you seriously mean to say that you think there's any
danger? Nobody here knows anything about him, except you and Mr.
Cartmell. Are you traitors? Will Powers speak--and lose his livelihood?
It's absurd to talk of danger from Powers."

I had come