eemed only to accentuate the general
gloom, and the great clock, ticking solemnly behind the bar, seemed to be
marking time for a funeral dirge. But suddenly all changed to brightness
when Betty entered. Pickering was talking to me, standing between me and
the girl, so that she did not see me when she first came into the room.
She stepped behind the bar for some purpose and called to her father, who
started to go to her, but before he reached her she looked up and saw me.
In a moment she was by my side, smiling and dimpling in a manner fit to
set the heart of an anchorite a-thumping.

"I came for a lobster, Betty," I said, taking her hand, "and to see you.
I was afraid you might forget me."

"The Old Swan is likely to forget you, Baron Ned," she answered,
withdrawing her hand, "if you don't come to see us oftener."

"Ah, Betty, you're a mercenary bit of flesh and blood. Always looking out
for customers," I returned, shaking my head.

"Yes," she replied, laughing softly. "And--and very sorry when certain
customers come so seldom."

Had she spoken glibly, her words would have meant nothing, but there was
a hesitancy, a pretty fluttering in her manner which pleased me, so I was
emboldened to say:--

"I hope I am one of the 'certain customers,' Betty."

Again she laughed softly, as she answered, "Yes, Baron Ned, _the_ certain
one."

"Do you mean, Betty, that I am the 'certain one' for the Old Swan or for
Betty?" I asked.

She was standing near me, and I again caught her hand, but it was not a
part of Betty's programme to be questioned too closely, so she withdrew
her hand, saying, "I must go."

On former occasions I had put forth what I considered adroit efforts to
steal small favors from the girl, for, as already intimated, I considered
her merely a barmaid; but I had failed, and the conviction was dawning on
my mind that either she was not an ordinary barmaid or that I was the
wrong man. The first assumption would make me all the more eager, but the
second would deter any self-respecting man from further pursuit. My fears
inclined me to accept the second, and resulted in a dim sort of jealousy
of the right man, who, I suspected, was Hamilton.

When Betty started to leave me, I caught her skirt to detain her, and
said: "When George Hamilton used to come here, I was jealous of him, and
feared that he might be the 'certain customer.' But I am glad that he has
left England."

The girl blushed as she answered, "