Arthur’s position at the bank had been hardly understood at first, and in some fit of mischief, Betty, determined not to bow down to his pretensions, had christened him the “Apprentice.” 

 “I thought that that proverb applied to children,” he retorted. 

 The girl was a beauty, dark and vivid, but small, and young enough to feel the gibe. Before she could retaliate, however, her father intervened. “Where’s Clement?” he asked. “I know that he is not here.” 

 “Tell-tale!” she flung at Arthur. “If you must know, father,” mildly, “I think that he’s——” 

 “Mooning somewhere, I suppose, instead of being in the bank, as he should be. And market day of all days! There, come, Bourdillon, I mustn’t keep Sir Charles and Acherley waiting.” He led the way to the rear of the hall, where a door on the left led into the bank parlor. Betty made a face after them. 

 In the parlor which lay behind the public office were two men. One, seated in an arm-chair by the fire, was reading the Morning Post. The other stood at the window, his very shoulders expressing his impatience. But it was to the former, a tall, middle-aged man, stiff and pompous, with thin sandy hair but kindly eyes, that Ovington made the first advance. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting, Sir Charles,” he said. “Very sorry. But I assure you I have not wasted a minute. Mr. Acherley,” to the other, “pardon me, will you? Just a word with Sir Charles before we begin.” 

 And leaving Bourdillon to make himself agreeable to the impatient Acherley, Ovington drew Sir Charles Woosenham aside. “I have gone a little beyond my instructions,” he said in a low tone, “and sold your Monte Reales.” 

 The Baronet’s face fell. “Sold!” he ejaculated. “Parted with them? But I never—my dear sir, I never——” 

 “Authorized a sale?” the banker agreed suavely. “No, perfectly right, Sir Charles. But I was on the spot and I felt myself responsible. There was a favorable turn and—” forestalling the other as he would have interrupted—“my rule is little and sure—little and sure, and sell on a fair rise. I don’t think you will be dissatisfied with the transaction.” 

 But Sir Charles’s displeasure showed itself in his face. He was a man of family and influence, honorable and straightforward, but his abilities were hardly on a par with his position, and though he had at times an inkling of the fact it only made him the more jealous of interference. “But I never 

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