"Miss Gladys! I am prepared to go any
lengths to get her. Refuse to give her to me and I'll turn you out of
your Hall, I'll torment you with every kind of insect, I'll plague you
with disease, I'll make your life hell. But give her to me--and
I'll--"

"But I won't! And I defy you to do your worst, you--you--" and there
is no knowing what would have happened, had not Gladys suddenly come
in and dragged her father out of the room. "How dare you?" she exclaimed, returning to the study to find Hamar
still there. "I've telephoned to the police, and unless you go
instantly and promise not to come again, I shall give you in charge,
for annoyance." "Foolish of you--very foolish!" Hamar said, "when I want to be
friendly. Sooner or later you must give in, so why not end all this
needless unpleasantness now, and receive me--if not with open arms--at
least amicably. You are so awfully pretty! I must have just one----"
but before he could kiss Gladys the police arrived, and Hamar once
more retired--with somewhat undignified haste, and more than a little
discomfited. On arriving in Cockspur Street, Hamar's temper underwent a still
further trial. Kelson, taking advantage of his absence, had gone off
to tea with Lilian Rosenberg. In ill-suppressed fury, he waited till they returned. "A word with you, Matt," he said, as Kelson tried to shuffle past him. "So this is the way you behave when my back is turned. I suppose
you've had a good time!" "Delightful!" "And you know the consequences!" "Only that I'm looking forward to the same thing another day." "She'll go!" "She won't," Kelson chuckled. "She is far too valuable. So there, old
man! A month ago your threat might have held good. It won't now. You
daren't--you positively daren't part with her--because, if you did so,
you'd not only part with a good few of your secrets, but you'd part
with me." CHAPTER XVII

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE


"What's to be done with Matt?" Hamar asked Curtis, soon after the
interview just recorded. "He's as sweet on Rosensberg as he can be,
and says if I dismiss her he'll go too!" "Then don't dismiss her," Curtis replied. "Leave them both alone,
that's my tip. I don't believe Matt's such a fool as to fall in love,
and I'm quite sure the girl isn't. Why, she went to the Tivoli with me
two nights ago, and to the Empire with another fellow the night before
that. It isn't in her to stick to one, she would go with any one who
would treat her. Don't worry your head over that. Matt might say 'How
about Leon and Gladys Martin.'" "So he might, but there's no danger there. The girl is deuced
pretty--splendid eyes, hair, teeth, hands and all that sort of thing,
and I've set my heart on a bit of canoodling with her, but as for
love! Well! it's not in my programme." "Still, stranger things have happened," Curtis said. "Anyhow, I guess
you're both mad and that I'm the only sane one. Give me a ten-course
dinner at the Savoy, and you may have all the women in London--I don't
go a cent on them." To revert to Kelson. From the hour he had first seen Lilian Rosenberg
he had become more and more deeply enamoured. In the hope of meeting
her, he had hung about the halls and passages of the building; had
never missed an opportunity of speaking to her, of feasting himself on
the elfish beauty of her face, of squeezing her hand, and of telling
her how much he admired her. "You really mustn't," she said. "Mr. Hamar has given me strict orders
to attend to nothing but my work." "Oh, damn Hamar!" Kelson replied, "if I choose to talk to you it's no
business of his. You've not treated me well. I got you the post, and
it is I you should go out with, not Hamar." And in the quiet nooks and corners, perched on the window-sill, with
one eye kept warily on the guard for fear of interruptions, he told
her his history--all about himself from the day of his birth--told her
about his parents, his childhood, his schooldays, his hobbies and
cranks, his indiscretions, extravagancies, his carousals, debts,
flirtations, with just an excusable amount of exaggeration. He even
went so far as to speak of a chronic rheumatism, of a twinge of
hereditary gout, and of a slightly hectic cough with which, he
suddenly remembered, he had at one time, been troubled. "Don't you think," Lilian Rosenberg said, with mock earnestness, "you
are somewhat rash! Have you forgotten that no woman can keep a
secret--and you are not telling me one secret but many. Supposing in a
fit of thoughtlessness or absent-mindedness, I were to divulge them! I
should never forgive myself." "Would it distress you so much?" "Of course it would. I should be miserable," she laughed. And Kelson,
unable to restrain himself, seized her hands and smothered them 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 _tête-à-tête_ 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!