"Philip," enquired Miss Falconer of her patient that evening, "how much money have you got?"
Philip ruminated.
"I don't quite know," he said. "How much do you want?"
"I want enough to find decent rooms for you to live in. Can you afford it?"
"I suppose so. I don't spend half my income at present. My father left me a good deal, and I have my salary as well. But what is the matter with my present abode?"
"It is poky, and dirty, and unfurnished, and quite impossible," said Peggy with finality. "You must move into something better."
"The rooms suited me well enough," objected Philip. "I got through a good lot of work there. Besides, they were handy for Oxford Street."
"Nevertheless, you will leave them," announced Peggy.
Philip glowed comfortably. He liked being ordered about by his Lady. It showed that she took more than a passing interest in him, he argued.
"If I do," he said cunningly, "will you come and see me there sometimes? Tea, or something? You could bring Miss Leslie," he added.