it can be made much of, or little of, we must wait — because we can’t help it — to see. Probably we shall make the most of it that is to be made.”

“Probably,” said Lammle.

“Do you think it impossible,” she asked, in the same cold plotting way, “that you might replace the Secretary?”

“Not impossible, Sophronia. It might be brought about. At any rate it might be skilfully led up to.”

She nodded her understanding of the hint, as she looked at the fire. “Mr Lammle,” she said, musingly: not without a slight ironical touch: “Mr Lammle would be so delighted to do anything in his power. Mr Lammle, himself a man of business as well as a capitalist. Mr Lammle, accustomed to be intrusted with the most delicate affairs. Mr Lammle, who has managed my own little fortune so admirably, but who, to be sure, began to make his reputation with the advantage of being a man of property, above temptation, and beyond suspicion.”

Mr Lammle smiled, and even patted her on the head. In his sinister relish of the scheme, as he stood above her, making it the subject of his cogitations, he seemed to have twice as much nose on his face as he had ever had in his life.

He stood pondering, and she sat looking at the dusty fire without moving, for some time. But, the moment he began to speak again she looked up with a wince and attended to him, as if that double- dealing of hers had been in her mind, and the fear were revived in her of his hand or his foot.

“It appears to me, Sophronia, that you have omitted one branch of the subject. Perhaps not, for women understand women. We might oust the girl herself?”

Mrs Lammle shook her head. “She has an immensely strong hold upon them both, Alfred. Not to be compared with that of a paid secretary.”

“But the dear child,” said Lammle, with a crooked smile, “ought to have been open with her benefactor and benefactress. The darling love ought to have reposed unbounded confidence in her benefactor and benefactress.”

Sophronia shook her head again.

“Well! Women understand women,” said her husband, rather disappointed. “I don’t press it. It might be the making of our fortune to make a clean sweep of them both. With me to manage the property, and my wife to manage the people — Whew!”

Again shaking her head, she returned: “They will never quarrel with the girl. They will never punish the girl. We must accept the girl, rely upon it.”

“Well!” cried Lammle, shrugging his shoulders, “so be it: only always remember that we don’t want her.”

“Now, the sole remaining question is,” said Mrs Lammle, “when shall I begin?”

“You cannot begin too soon, Sophronia. As I have told you, the condition of our affairs is desperate, and may be blown upon at any moment.”

“I must secure Mr Boffin alone, Alfred. If his wife was present, she would throw oil upon the waters. I know I should fail to move him to an angry outburst, if his wife was there. And as to the girl herself — as I am going to betray her confidence, she is equally out of the question.”

“It wouldn’t do to write for an appointment?” said Lammle.