CHAPTER XIX.
PRETTY MARGERY'S TERRIBLE DISCOVERY.
Pretty Margery Conway had made her way eagerly enough to Mr.Lester Armstrong's private office, but her light tap on the door brought no response, and, as it was slightly ajar, she pushed it open and stepped across the threshold.
To her great surprise she saw that her employer was deeply engrossed in the pictures of a comic weekly, and the loud "Ha! ha! ha!" that fell from his lips struck upon the girl's sensitive nerves most unpleasantly.
She was wondering how she should make her presence known to him, when suddenly he turned around, and then he saw her and a quick gleam of intense admiration leaped into his bold, dark eyes at the vision of the lovely, blushing, dimpled face of the slender, graceful young girl.
"I am here in response to your summons, Mr.Armstrong," she said, with much embarrassment.

"Your bell rang so imperatively that--" "I didn't ring any bell, my dear," he exclaimed, "but still I am uncommonly glad to see you.

Sit down and we'll have a little chat." "There is a customer awaiting my return as soon as you--" "Oh, hang the customer," cut in Kendale.

"Sit down, pretty one, and we'll make each other's acquaintance." Margery looked at him in helpless bewilderment.
Had handsome Lester Armstrong, the hero of her dream, gone suddenly mad, she wondered?
"Sit down, my dear," he reiterated, "don't look at me in such affright.
I'm not an ogre; I don't intend to eat you, though, upon my honor, those peachy cheeks and pomegranate lips are most wonderfully tempting." Margery was so intensely surprised she was fairly speechless--incapable of word or action.
From where she stood the fumes of strong brandy reached her, and she realized that the man before her was under its influence to an alarming extent.
No wonder her pretty face paled; even her lips grew white.
She stood before him as one mesmerized by the baleful gleam in his merciless concentrated gaze, as the fluttering, frightened bird does in the presence of the deadly serpent that means to destroy it.
"Won't be sociable, eh ?" muttered Kendale.

"You are not diplomatic; you don't know your own interests.