with
kisses.

"Your fingers would look well covered with rings," he said. "I will
give you some, and you shall come with me and choose. Only on no
account tell Hamar." And he kissed her--not on the hands this
time--but the lips.

Hamar saw him. He watched him from behind the angle of the passage
wall, but he said nothing--at least, nothing to Kelson. It was to
Lilian Rosenberg he spoke.

"It is really not my fault," she said. "I don't encourage him, and if
you take my advice, you will not interfere, for I am sure at present
he means nothing serious. He is the sort of man who imagines himself
in love with every one he meets. If you prevent him seeing me, you may
actually bring about the result you are most anxious to avoid."

"I'll risk that," Hamar said, "and I absolutely forbid you doing more
than merely saying good morning to him. It is either that, or you must
go."

"Well, of course I will do as you wish," Lilian said. "I don't care a
snap for him; and, after all, you ought to know your own business
best! It is only natural that you should want him to marry some one
who can bring money into the Firm."

"I don't want him to marry at all, or anyhow, not yet. However, there
is no necessity to discuss that point. We have definitely settled the
line you are to adopt, and that is all I wanted to speak to you about.
When next you feel inclined to flirt, come to me, and you shall have
kisses as well as--rings."

It was shortly after this _tete-a-tete_ that Lilian Rosenberg was
interrupted in her work, by a rap at the door.

"Come in," she called, and a young man entered.

"I believe a clerk is wanted here," he explained. "I've come to apply
for the situation. Can I see Mr. Hamar?"

"I'm afraid he's out. There's no one in at present," Lilian Rosenberg
replied, eyeing the stranger critically "If you like to wait awhile,
you may do so. Sit down." She signalled to him to take a chair and
went on typing.

For some minutes the silence was unbroken, save for the tapping of
fingers and the clicking of the machine. Then she looked up, and their
eyes met.

"It's not pleasant to be out of work," he said. "Have you ever
experienced it?"

"Once or twice," she said. "And I never wish to again. You don't look
as if you were much used to office work."

"No! I'm an artist; but times are hard with us. The present Government
has driven all the money out of the country and no one buys pictures
now; so I'm forced to turn my