ty, but I shall soon be ready for
business. Austin you know. This is my friend Miss Octon."

Fillingford came forward--slowly, but with no change of expression. He
bowed gravely to Margaret, and gave me his hand with a limp pressure. "I
hope you're well, Mr. Austin? We've met very little of late."

Margaret was regarding him with curiosity complicated by alarm. This was
Amyas Lacey's father--and Amyas had given the impression that his father
was formidable; there was a knowledge in her own heart which might well
make him seem formidable to her, even had his bearing been far more
cordial.

"I'm afraid I've come too soon," he said. "I interrupt your party."

"Sit down with us and have a cup of tea--Miss Octon will give you one."

He did not refuse the invitation, and sat down opposite Margaret. She
ministered to him with a graceful assiduity, offering her timid services
with smiles that begged a welcome for them. He remained gravely
courteous, watching her with apparent interest.

"I hope Miss Driver is well?" he said to me with a carefully measured
civility.

Very wisely Alison did not leave the pair he had brought together to
entertain one another. Plunging again into the description of his work
which had so won Margaret's interest before, he enabled Fillingford to
see the gay charm which he himself could not elicit. Then, branching off
to herself, he got her to describe the wonderful delights of her new
existence--her horse, her dog, the little room that Jenny had given her
for her own snuggery at the top of the house. "I can see your chimneys
from the window!" she told Fillingford with a sudden turn toward him,
followed by a lively blush--how came her interest in those chimneys to
be so great? Fear kept her from Lacey's name; some instinct, I think,
from more than casual reference to the donor of all the fine gifts which
she catalogued and praised; little reference used to be made to
Fillingford at Breysgate, and perhaps she had caught the cue thus given.

"But I haven't got enough work to do," she complained gayly to Alison.
"And if you would let me come and work for you----"

"I'll find you plenty of work to do," he promised. "Lots of wicked old
women to visit!" He smiled at us. "I might try you on the wicked young
men, too," he added. "There are lots of them about. But plenty of very
good fellows, too, if only we could really get hold of them."

"Try her on Mrs. Jepps," Fillingford suggested dryly; yet th