"Get me forty shares," he said, "and the matter is settled. But——" he realised that he was talking shop.
"The butter, please, Cynthia?"
"Well," she said in triumph, as she passed the dish, "I have at last learned something from you."
"Good!" he returned, undisturbed. "And I'll tell you this much more, that I haven't the slightest idea where I can find those forty shares."
"Oh!" she cried, dismayed. "What does Mr. Mather think?"
"Mather knows nothing about it," said Pease. "His friends are working for him without his knowledge, because they have never been sure that they could help him."
Judith, listening to the talk, told herself that Mather would never be president of the road; she had heard Ellis describe the little ring of men who stood solidly around him—men whom he had made. That ring would never be broken. Yet amid her disappointment she felt relief. Mather had never told her of the projects of his friends because, like herself, he had not been sure of them.
Before the meal was ended Mr. Fenno came—only for a minute, he said, and bade them not to rise. Judith admired the picture that he made as he stood and talked with Pease; his white hair and mustache seemed whiter still by contrast with his coal-black eyebrows, while the dead black-and-white evening clothes were relieved by the soft sable which lined his overcoat. He questioned Pease with his accustomed bluntness.
"No go?"
"Nothing yet," Pease answered.