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For the briefest of moments the lady gazed at him in silent contemplation. Then motioning him again to sit beside her,—which he did,—she drew his head down close to her lips, and patted it affectionately.

"Flomerfelt, you're a good friend of mine?" she said.

Wilkinson's confidential man straightened up.

"That depends on how good a friend you are of mine," he answered, looking her full in the face.

The eyes of Margaret Lane Wilkinson narrowed.

"You do your best to see that I don't come out at the little end of the horn, Flomerfelt—take care of my interests, even against——"

"Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed Flomerfelt.

"Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed the woman. There was a pause, and presently she added: "On every occasion, no matter what the question, I shall agree with you."

"You forget to take into consideration that there's a girl named Leslie Wilkinson, who——"

She stopped him with a concluding gesture.

"No, not for one moment have I forgotten her," she affirmed. "If the worst comes to the worst, Leslie has enough to keep us both."