ly) "Miss Medland's acquaintance."

Medland bowed coldly.

"Mr. Puttock was good enough to introduce me."

"I am ready, father," said Daisy. "Good-bye, Mr. Benham."

Benham took her offered hand, and, with a smile, held it for a moment
longer than sufficed for an ordinary farewell. Still holding it, he
began--

"I hope we shall meet often in the future and--"

Medland, in a sudden fit of anger, seized his daughter's arm and drew it
away.

"I do not desire your acquaintance, sir," he said, in loud, harsh tones,
"for myself or my daughter."

Benham smiled viciously; Coxon, who stood by, watched the scene closely.

"Ah!" said Benham, "perhaps not; but you know me--and so will she," and
he in his turn raised his voice in growing excitement.

Daisy, frightened at the angry interview, clung to Medland's arm,
looking in wonder from him to Benham. Some half-dozen people, seeing the
group, stopped for a moment in curiosity and, walking on, cast glances
back over their shoulders. A lull in the babble of conversation warned
Medland, and he looked round. Alicia Derosne was passing by in company
with the Chief Justice. Near at hand stood Kilshaw, watching the
encounter with a sneering smile. The Chief Justice stepped up to
Medland.

"What's the matter?" he asked, in a low tone.

"Nothing," said Medland. "Only I do not wish my daughter to talk to this
gentleman."

The contempt of his look and tone goaded Benham to fury.

"I don't care what you wish," he exclaimed. "I have as good a right as
anybody to talk to the young lady, considering that she's----"

Before he could finish his sentence, Kilshaw darted up to him, and
caught him by the arm.

"Not yet, you fool," he whispered, drawing the angry man away.

Benham yielded, and Kilshaw caught Medland's look of surprise.

"Come, Mr. Benham," he said aloud, "you and Mr. Medland must settle
your differences, if you have any, elsewhere."

Medland glanced sharply at him, but accepted the cue.

"You are right," he said. "Come, Daisy," and he walked away with his
daughter on his arm, while Kilshaw led Benham off in the opposite
direction, talking to him urgently in a low voice. Benham shook his head
again and again in angry protest, seeming to ask why he had not been
allowed his own way.

The group of people passed on, amid inquiries who Benham was, and
conjectures as to the cause of the Premier's anger.

"Now what in the world," asked Sir John, fitting his _pince-n