about which disgruntled sufferers made some talk had not been treasured up against him; of course, people said, an architect so young and inexperienced was bound to make mistakes. But there was no one else who grasped an idea so sympathetically, touched it up with so nice an imagination; his work had, said the ladies, distinction and charm—and it was a pleasure to work with him. On a rapidly spreading reputation of this kind, he had himself spread out; that is, he had thrown more rooms into his office and had called to his aid more men. But on his chief draughtsman he had come more and more to rely; he was the man who had the knowledge of petty and tedious detail for which Stewart himself had no patience; it was he whose mathematical calculations were unerring, and who moreover had an astonishing practical sense that could devise a forgotten cupboard or a staircase in the most compact plans. This man Stewart had taken from Bennett, and Stewart flattered himself that he had taught him much and that the man was humbly grateful.
But Bennett had been keeping a close watch upon his young rival's career. He had never shown any resentment toward Durant, the draughtsman, because of his desertion; rather, his friendly interest in him was as marked as his cold disapproval of Stewart. Sometimes he invited Durant to luncheon, and by perfectly natural and indirect methods led him to discourse of his employer's peculiar bent and abilities. He knew Durant,—a modest, unassertive man of unusual competence, always contented to occupy a second place and work laboriously. And one day he astonished him with a proposal that they should go into partnership together.
Durant, who was poor and so conscientious a plodder that he had never dreamed of such an achievement except as possibly crowning his old age, was thrilled by the suggestion. The firm name, "Bennett & Durant, Architects," glowed in his imagination. He told his employer of the proposal and admitted that he was greatly tempted.
