d lady, even if I can effect a sale
of your securities so quickly as to have the money ready by to-morrow
morning. Perhaps Colville will call for it himself."

"If he is in Paris."

"Every one is in Paris now," was Mr. Turner's opinion. "And if he likes
to bring his young friend with him, all the better. In these uncertain
times it is not fair on a man to hand to him a large sum of money in
notes." He paused and jerked his thumb toward the window, which was
a double one, looking down into the Rue Lafayette. "There are always
people in the streets watching those who pass in and out of a bank. If a
man comes out smiling, with his hand on his pocket, he is followed, and
if an opportunity occurs, he is robbed. Better not have it in notes."

"I know," replied Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence, not troubling further to
deceive one so lethargic and simple, "I know that Dormer wants it in
notes."

"Then let him come and fetch it."

Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence rose from her chair and shook her dress into
straighter folds, with the air of having accomplished a task which she
had known to be difficult, but not impossible to one equipped with wit
and self-confidence.

"You will sell the securities, and have it all ready by ten o'clock
to-morrow morning," she repeated, with a feminine insistence.

"You shall have the money to-morrow morning, whether I succeed in
selling for cash or not," was the reply, and John Turner concealed a
yawn with imperfect success.

"A loan?"

"No banker lends--except to kings," replied Turner, stolidly. "Call it
an accommodation."

Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence glanced at him sharply over the fur collar
which she was clasping round her neck. Here was a banker, reputed
wealthy, who sat in a bare room, without so much as a fireproof safe
to suggest riches; a business man of world-wide affairs, who drummed
indolent fingers on a bare table; a philosopher with a maxim ever
ready to teach, as all maxims do, cowardice in the guise of prudence,
selfishness masquerading as worldly wisdom, hard-heartedness passing
for foresight. Here was one who seemed to see, and was yet too sleepy
to perceive. Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence was not always sure of her banker,
but now, as ever before, one glance at his round, heavy face reassured
her. She laughed and went away, well satisfied with the knowledge, only
given to women, of having once more carried out her object with the
completeness which is known as twisting round the little f