that self-protective instinct of instantaneous and almost automatic
judgment, given to guard it from the dangers with which it is
continually threatened at the hands of man's over-mastering strength
and ordered intelligence. Ida was one of these. She knew nothing to
Mr. Quest's disadvantage, indeed she always heard him spoken of with
great respect, and curiously enough she liked his wife. But she could
not bear the man, feeling in her heart that he was not only to be
avoided on account of his own hidden qualities, but that he was
moreover an active personal enemy.

They went into the dining-room, where the luncheon was set, and while
Ida allowed Mr. Quest to cut her some cold boiled beef, an operation
in which he did not seem to be very much at home, she came to a rapid
conclusion in her own mind. She had seen clearly enough from her
father's face that his interview with the lawyer had been of a most
serious character, but she knew that the chances were that she would
never be able to get its upshot out of him, for the old gentleman had
a curious habit of keeping such unpleasant matters to himself until he
was absolutely forced by circumstances to reveal them. She also knew
that her father's affairs were in a most critical condition, for this
she had extracted from him on the previous night, and that if any
remedy was to be attempted it must be attempted at once, and on some
heroic scale. Therefore, she made up her mind to ask her /bete noire/,
Mr. Quest, what the truth might be.

"Mr. Quest," she said, with some trepidation, as he at last
triumphantly handed her the beef, "I hope you will forgive me for
asking you a plain question, and that, if you can, you will favour me
with a plain answer. I know my father's affairs are very much
involved, and that he is now anxious to borrow some more money; but I