cription
hanging about the street near the hotel."

Holymead rose to his feet as he spoke, as an indication that the
interview was at an end. Kemp got up and looked at him anxiously.

"I beg your pardon, sir, for coming here," he said, fumbling with the rim
of his hat as he spoke. "I didn't know how you'd take it, but I hope I've
done right. They didn't want to let me see you."

"You did quite right, Kemp. I am very much obliged to you." He was
feeling in his pocket for silver, but Kemp stopped him.

"No, no, sir. I don't want to be paid anything. I wanted to oblige you
like; I wanted to do you a good turn. I'd do anything for you, sir--you
know I would."

"I believe you would, Kemp. Good night."

"Good night, sir."

As Kemp passed down the hall he met the manager, who was obviously
pleased to see such an unwelcome visitor making his departure. Kemp
scowled at the manager as if he were a valued patron of the hotel and
said, "It seems to me that you don't know how to treat people properly
when they come here."

CHAPTER XXVI

It was the first occasion on which Mrs. Holymead had visited her
husband's chambers in the Middle Temple. Mr. Mattingford, who had been
Mr. Holymead's clerk for nearly twenty years, seemed to realise that the
visit was important, though as a married man he knew that a meeting
between husband and wife in town was usually so commonplace as to verge
on boredom for the husband. There were occasions when he had to meet Mrs.
Mattingford, but these meetings were generally for the purpose of handing
over to the lady her weekly dress allowance of ten shillings out of his
salary, so that she might attend the sales at the big drapery shops in
the West End and inspect the windows containing expensive articles that
she could not hope to buy. Mr. Mattingford was an exceedingly thrifty
man, and his wife possessed some of the qualities of a spendthrift. Thus
it came about that Mr. Mattingford kept up the fiction that he had no
savings and that each week's salary must see him through till the next
week. Mrs. Mattingford knew that her husband had saved money, and
theoretically she would have given a great deal to know how much. She
repeatedly accused him of being a miser, but this is a wifely
denunciation which in all classes of life is lightly made when the
purchase of feminine finery is under discussion. There are some men who
resent it, but Mr. Mattingford was not one of these. Protests and
pray