Miss Emsdale looked puzzled. "I am sure the buzzer—"
"Pardon me," said Mr. Chambers, easily. "I fancy I can solve the mystery. Accidentally,—quite accidentally, I assure you,—I put my hand on the button on your desk, Mrs. Sparflight,—while you were glancing at the photograph. Like this,—do you see?" He put his hand on the top of the desk and leaned forward, just as he had done when he joined her in studying the picture a few moments before.
A hot flush mounted to Mrs. Sparflight's face, and her eyes flashed. The next instant she smiled.
"You are most resourceful, Mr. Chambers," she said. "It happens, however, that your cleverness gains you nothing. This young lady is one of our stenographers. I think I said that Miss Emsdale is my private secretary. She has no connection whatever with the business office. The button you inadvertently pressed simply disturbed one of the girls in the next room. You may return to your work, Miss Henry."
She carried it off very well. Jane, sensing danger, was on the point of retiring,—somewhat hurriedly, it must be confessed,—when Mr. Chambers, in his most apologetic manner, remarked:
"May I have a word with you, your ladyship?"
It was a bold guess, encouraged by his discovery that the young lady was not only English but of a class distinctly remote from shops and stenography.
Under the circumstances, Jane may be forgiven for dissembling, even at the cost of her employer's honour. She stopped short, whirled, and confronted the stranger with a look in her eyes that convicted her immediately.
