THEYARRIVE 47

er—just carry on with something, eh?"

"Very well/' said Miss Matfield.

"Good!" said Mr. Dersingham. He never felt sure
how he ought to handle Miss Matfield, quite apart from
the fact that she seemed to him a rather formidable sort
of girl. Her father, he knew, was a doctor, only a doctor
in the country now, miles from anywhere, but he had
once played scrum half with the Alsations. Ordering
about the daughter of a scrum half of the Alsations, just
as if she was some ordinary little tuppenny-ha'penny
typist, was a ticklish business. And that was why Mr.
Dersingham added "Good!": it meant that he knew all
about the surgery and the Alsations.

"You fellows had better sit down," he said to Smeeth
and Goath. "We may be some time over this. That's
right. Now wait a minute. Let me see, Goath, you're
making—what? Two hundred, plus commission, that's
it, isn't it? And you, Smeeth, what are you getting now?
Three-fifteen, isn't it?"

Mr. Smeeth, troubled, admitted that it was. He had
seen what was coming, all along, had seen it for days and
days and horrible nights.

"And what am I making?'* Mr. Dersingham gave
a short and embarrassed laugh. "Well, you can imagine
for yourself, Goath, and you know well enough, Smeeth.
Just lately, I've been making nothing, not a bean. Just
paying expenses, that's all."

"Er," Mr. Goath began with a pessimistic rumble.

"Just a minute. Don't think I'm beginning like this
because I think you fellows are not earning all you
make. I know you are. There's no question about that.
But we've got to go into it all, haven't we—got to see
where we stand. I'll tell you in strict confidence that if