“Do you think it impossible,” she asked, in the same cold plotting way, “that you might replace the Secretary?”
“Not impossible, Sophronia. It might be brought about. At any rate it might be skilfully led up to.”
She nodded her understanding of the hint, as she looked at the fire. “ Mr. Lammle,” she said, musingly: not without a slight ironical touch: “ Mr. Lammle would be so delighted to do anything in his power. Mr. Lammle, himself a man of business as well as a capitalist. Mr. Lammle, accustomed to be entrusted with the most delicate affairs. Mr. Lammle, who has managed my own little fortune so admirably, but who, to be sure, began to make his reputation with the advantage of being a man of property, above temptation, and beyond suspicion.”
Mr. Lammle smiled, and even patted her on the head. In his sinister relish of the scheme, as he stood above her, making it the subject of his cogitations, he seemed to have twice as much nose on his face as he had ever had in his life.
He stood pondering, and she sat looking at the dusty fire without moving, for some time. But, the moment he began to speak again she looked up with a wince and attended to him, as if that double-dealing of hers had been in her mind, and the fear were revived in her of his hand or his foot.
“It appears to me, Sophronia, that you have omitted one branch of the subject. Perhaps not, for women understand women. We might oust the girl herself?”
Mrs. Lammle shook her head. “She has an immensely strong hold upon them both, Alfred. Not to be compared with that of a paid secretary.”