rse,' said Mrs. Gaddesden, a little confused, 'there
are always the secretaries.'

'Ah-ha!' Mrs. Strang laughed--one might almost say crowed. 'Yes,
indeed, if it weren't for the secretaries! By the way, what do you
think about the specimen here?'

Mrs. Gaddesden lost her languid air at once. She sat up among her
pillows, a reasonably pretty woman, not without some likeness to
Pamela, in points that did not matter.

'My dear Margaret,' she said, with emphasis, 'this has got to be
watched!--_watched_, I tell you.'

Mrs. Strang opened her eyes wide.

'What on earth do you mean?'

Alice Gaddesden smiled.

'Well, of course, you're much cleverer than I am, but I really do
see further in practical matters than you do. Haven't you noticed,'
she bent forward, looking mysterious and intent, 'how _already_
father depends upon her, how she's beginning to run the whole
show--and she hasn't been here much more than six weeks? My dear
Margaret, with a secretary like that you _never_ can tell!'

'Well,' said Mrs. Strang coolly, 'and what then?'

'Oh, well, of course, if you're prepared to see a person like
that--in our mother's place!'

'"A person like that"--how dreadfully old-fashioned you are, Alice!
She's a lady; she's much more highly educated than you or I, and if
she gets her way, she'll perhaps keep father out of some of the
scrapes he seems bent on. You know this business of the park is
perfectly mad!'

For the first time in this conversation Margaret Strang's face was
grave. And when it was grave, some people would have called it fine.

'And just think what it'll cost,' said Mrs. Gaddesden despondently,
'even if he had a case--which he probably hasn't--and if he were to
win it. There'll be no money left for Aubrey or any of us soon.'

'But of course he hasn't a case, and of course he can't win!' cried
Margaret Strang. 'It's not that I care about--or the money--it's the
disgrace!'

'Yes,' murmured Alice doubtfully.

'When you think--'

Mrs. Strang paused; her bright blue eyes, alive with thoughts, were
fixed absently on her sister. She seemed to see a number of shabby
streets, where she was accustomed to work, with little shabby shops,
and placards on them--'No butter,' 'No milk,' and apples marked 4d.
each.

'Think what?' said Alice.

Mrs. Strang's mind returned to Alice, and Alice's very elaborate and
becoming _negligee_.

'Only that, in my opinion, it's the duty of every landowner to
produce ever