"Yes," said Philip. He explained the nature of his trip.
"They were saying at Oxford Street," pursued Miss Jennings, with the air of one who is anxious to avoid all appearance of asking for information, "that you were going to be made a partner."
"It was talked about," said Philip, "but nothing at all came of it. They wanted me to risk rather more capital in the business than I happen to possess."
"Don't you worry about capital, Mr. Meldrum," said Miss Jennings. "It's your brains they're after. Bob Br—a gentleman I know told me that he had heard from some one behind the scenes that they don't mean to let you go at any price. They can't afford to have your inventions taken up by other people. It was just a try-on, telling you you must put a lot of money into the business. Next time they mention the matter, you name your terms and stick to them!"
Philip thanked her.
"Of course I've no call," admitted Miss Jennings, "to be giving you advice. But I wasn't born with my mouth sewn up, and you never were one to put yourself forward, were you?"
Philip admitted that possibly this was true, and the conversation passed to the inevitable topic of old times and old friends.
"How is Brand, by the way?" asked Philip. "He was an admirer of yours, I believe?"
"Brand?" said Miss Jennings carelessly. "Oh—the mechanic? I believe he is getting on very well. First foreman, then manager of the garage; and now that you are gone he and Mr. Rendle pretty well own the earth between them, so I gather. Brand is quite the gentleman now. I hear he has given up making a spectacle of himself in the Park of a Sunday. Mr. Rendle is the same as ever. He misses you at the flat, though."
"You seem to know all about our domestic arrangements," said Philip, much amused.