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Ansell, his sharp glance of surprise at her visitor told her that he was as much misled as herself, and gave her a sense of being agreeably justified in her blunder. "If father thinks you're a gentleman " her shining eyes seemed to say, as she explained: "This is Mr. Amherst, father: Mr. Truscomb has sent him." "Mr. Amherst?"
He was a pale man, with a beard of mixed grey-and-drab, and a voice of the same indeterminate quality. "Good evening, Mr. Amherst. Truscomb is pretty poorly on the edge of pneumonia, I'm afraid. As he seems anxious to see you I think you'd better go up for two minutes not more, please." He paused, and went on with a smile: "You won't excite him, of course nothing unpleasant "
Even his eye, now bright with fever, was dull and non-committal in daily life; and perhaps only the ramifications of his wrinkles could have revealed what particular ambitions had seamed his soul. "Good evening, Amherst. I'm down with a confounded cold." "I'm sorry to hear it," the young man forced himself to say. "Can't get my breath that's the trouble." Truscomb paused and gasped.
"For the best of reasons because Disbrow has nothing to gain by distorting the facts, whereas this young Amherst, as Tredegar pointed out, has the very obvious desire to give Truscomb a bad name and shove himself into his place." Mrs. Ansell contemplatively turned the rings upon her fingers.
"For don't you perceive, my poor distracted friend, that if Truscomb turns rusty, as he undoubtedly will, the inevitable result will be his manager's dismissal and that thereafter there will presumably be peace in Warsaw?" "Ah, you divinely wicked woman!" cried Mr. Langhope, snatching at an appreciative pressure of her hand as the lawyer reappeared in the doorway.
"And whom Truscomb hounded out of the trade? I remember him," said Amherst grimly; "but I have an idea I am going to do the hounding this time." His mother sighed, but her reply was cut short by the noisy opening of the outer door. Amherst seemed to hear the sound with relief.
"Oh, we're going there this morning," she rejoined, unrebuffed by what she probably took for a mere social awkwardness, while Mrs. Westmore interposed: "But, Maria, Mr. Truscomb is ill, and has sent Mr. Amherst to say that we are not to come." "Yes: so Gaines has just telephoned. It's most unfortunate," Mr. Langhope grumbled.
Amherst to have you put it in that way; and I am sure we all appreciate his valuable hints. Truscomb himself could not have been more helpful, though his larger experience will no doubt be useful later on, in developing and er modifying your plans."
Westmore's attention ought to be called to certain conditions at the mills, and no one else seemed likely to speak of them." "May I ask why you assume that Mr. Truscomb will not do so when he has the opportunity?" Amherst could not repress a smile. "Because it is owing to Mr. Truscomb that they exist." "The real object of your visit then," said Mr.
Tredegar folded his hands again, and crossed one lean little leg over the other, bringing into his line of vision the glossy tip of a patent-leather pump, which he studied for a moment in silence. "Does Mr. Truscomb know of your intention?" he then enquired. "No, sir," Amherst answered energetically, glad that he had forced the lawyer out of his passive tactics.
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