Betty Trevor | Page 8

behind, when, as she confided to
Jill later on, "her cheeks turned k-r-rimson with mortification!"

"Well, Miles, my boy, did you take your little invention with you to-
day, and were you able to show it to the manager?"
"Yes, I took it all right."
"And what did he say?"
"He said it was all right."
"Does that mean that he acknowledged that it was an improvement on
the present method? Did he feel inclined to give it a trial?"
"Oh yes, it went all right. He said it would do."
"But that's capital! Capital! I congratulate you heartily! Didn't Mr
Davidson seem pleased that you should have hit on such a bright idea?"
"Oh, he said it was all right."
Miles made a determined attack on his plate, as if pleading to be left
alone to enjoy his dinner in peace. Since the days of his babyhood he
had shown a strong inventive genius, and now it was his delight to
spend his spare moments working in his little cupboard sanctum at
home, striving to improve on any bit of machinery which struck him as
falling short of perfection. It was a very simple thing which he had
attempted, but in machinery, as in many other things, trifles are
all-important, and it was a triumph indeed that a lad of nineteen should
have hit on an improvement which was considered worth a trial.
Dr Trevor and his wife exchanged smiles of happy satisfaction. They
yearned to ask a dozen more questions, but refrained out of sympathy
with that natural masculine reserve which they understood so well.
Betty, however, was less considerate.
"I do think you might tell us a little more about it, Miles!" she cried
resentfully. "You know we are all dying of curiosity. I can't think why
it is that boys can never give a decent account of anything that has
happened! Now, if it had been me, I should have begun at the very

beginning, from the moment I entered the works, and told you how I
felt as I went upstairs, and how I began to speak to the manager, and
what he said, and how he looked, and--"
"What colour of necktie he wore--"
Betty tossed her head in scornful contempt of the burst of laughter
evoked by Miles' words.
"And what he did with the screw, or whatever you call it, when you
showed it to him, and what the other men said, and-- Oh, dozens of
interesting things; but you can say nothing but `all right' to every single
question. It is dull!"
"You must allow for diversities of talent, Betty," said Mrs Trevor,
laughing. "We do not all possess your powers of description. Miles is
very modest over his success, and I, like you, want to hear more details.
You must be sure to tell us how the trial works, Son; and if your
improvement is permanently adopted, I shall be proud!"
"Nothing to be proud of!" muttered Miles into his plate.
If there was one thing he loathed more than another, it was to be
praised and petted, and made the centre of attention. His roughened
fingers clenched themselves tightly round the knife and fork, and he cut
his beef into pieces with savage energy.
Why couldn't they leave a fellow alone? All this fuss about a bit of a
cog!
Betty divined his discomfiture, as she divined all that concerned her
beloved brother, but she had not the tact to come to the rescue, and it
was Jill who turned the conversation by a casual question which yet
was of interest to all the family.
"Father, is there a father at the big house at the corner? We can't decide
what's the matter with him. There must have been one, of course,
because of the Pet. Jack says he's dead, but she is not in mourning, and

the mother doesn't wear widow's things. I say he's gone a tour round the
world, and is buying presents at every port so as to pamper her more
than ever when he comes back."
Dr Trevor looked a trifle mystified, but he was accustomed to his
children's mental flights, and, after a moment's consideration, he replied
smilingly--
"If you mean Number 14, the tenant is a certain Major Alliot, who is at
present, I believe, with his regiment in India. I don't know anything
about his household, or the identity of the `Pet,' as you are pleased to
call her."
"I wish she'd fall downstairs, or have an accident of some sort suddenly,
so that they'd have to fly across for you in a hurry," sighed Jill with
frank brutality. "I wish all the people in that row would have accidents,
so that you could tell us all about them. We are dying with curiosity!"