white stuff: "Look what
he's given this naughty gairl!"

Mr. Ventnor murmured: "Charming! Charming! Bob Pillin said, I think,
that Mr. Heythorp was your settlor."

One of those little clouds which visit the brows of women who have owed
money in their time passed swiftly athwart Mrs. Larne's eyes. For a
moment they seemed saying: 'Don't you want to know too much?' Then they
slid from under it.

"Won't you sit down?" she said. "You must forgive our being at work."

Mr. Ventnor, who had need of sorting his impressions, shook his head.

"Thank you; I must be getting on. Then Messrs. Scriven can--a mere
formality! Goodbye! Good-bye, Miss Larne. I'm sure the dress will be
most becoming."

And with memories of a too clear look from the girl's eyes, of a warm
firm pressure from the woman's hand, Mr. Ventnor backed towards the door
and passed away just in time to avoid hearing in two voices:

"What a nice lawyer!"

"What a horrid man!"

Back in his cab, he continued to rub his hands. No, she didn't know old
Pillin! That was certain; not from her words, but from her face. She
wanted to know him, or about him, anyway. She was trying to hook young
Bob for that sprig of a girl--it was clear as mud. H'm! it would
astonish his young friend to hear that he had called. Well, let it! And
a curious mixture of emotions beset Mr. Ventnor. He saw the whole thing
now so plainly, and really could not refrain from a certain admiration.
The law had been properly diddled! There was nothing to prevent a man
from settling money on a woman he had never seen; and so old Pillin's
settlement could probably not be upset. But old Heythorp could. It was
neat, though, oh! neat! And that was a fine woman--remarkably! He had a
sort of feeling that if only the settlement had been in danger, it might
have been worth while to have made a bargain--a woman like that could
have made it worth while! And he believed her quite capable of
entertaining the proposition! Her eye! Pity--quite a pity! Mrs.
Ventnor was not a wife who satisfied every aspiration. But alas! the
settlement was safe. This baulking of the sentiment of love, whipped up,
if anything, the longing for justice in Mr. Ventnor. That old chap
should feel his teeth now. As a piece of investigation it was not so
bad--not so bad at all! He had had a bit of luck, of course,--no, not
luck--just that knack of doing the right thing at the right moment which
marks a real ge