in his pocket, a feeling
of injustice, the emotion of pity, and a confused and black astonishment
about Ventnor, caused Bob Pillin to stammer:

"Well, I'm d---d!" and to miss the look which Phyllis gave him through
her lashes--a look saying:

"Ah! that's better!"

"I am d---d! Look here! D'you mean to say that Ventnor came here about
my lending money? I never said a word to him---"

"There you see--you are lending!"

He clutched his hair.

"We've got to have this out," he added.

"Not by the roots! Oh! you do look funny. I've never seen you with your
hair untidy. Oh! oh!"

Bob Pillin rose and paced the room. In the midst of his emotion he could
not help seeing himself sidelong in the mirror; and on pretext of holding
his head in both his hands, tried earnestly to restore his hair. Then
coming to a halt he said:

"Suppose I am lending money to your mother, what does it matter? It's
only till quarter-day. Anybody might want money."

Phyllis did not raise her face.

"Why are you lending it?"

"Because--because--why shouldn't I?" and diving suddenly, he seized her
hands.

She wrenched them free; and with the emotion of despair, Bob Pillin took
out the envelope.

"If you like," he said, "I'll tear this up. I don't want to lend it, if
you don't want me to; but I thought--I thought--" It was for her alone
he had been going to lend this money!

Phyllis murmured through her hair:

"Yes! You thought that I--that's what's so hateful!"

Apprehension pierced his mind.

"Oh! I never--I swear I never--"

"Yes, you did; you thought I wanted you to lend it."

She jumped up, and brushed past him into the window.

So she thought she was being used as a decoy! That was awful--especially
since it was true. He knew well enough that Mrs. Larne was working his
admiration for her daughter for all that it was worth. And he said with
simple fervour:

"What rot!" It produced no effect, and at his wits' end, he almost
shouted: "Look, Phyllis! If you don't want me to--here goes!" Phyllis
turned. Tearing the envelope across he threw the bits into the fire.
"There it is," he said.

Her eyes grew round; she said in an awed voice: "Oh!"

In a sort of agony of honesty he said:

"It was only a cheque. Now you've got your way."

Staring at the fire she answered slowly:

"I expect you'd better go before mother comes."

Bob Pillin's mouth fell afar; he secretly agreed, but the idea of
sacrificing a