ad a clean and gallant bearing which it was difficult to reconcile
with the ungenerosity of his last remark. In a neat, unforceful way he
would have been handsome, had it not been for a badly healed scar which
ran straight across his forehead, only just escaping his eyes.

Before Tabs could say anything, he was apologizing. "That sounded
rotten. I'm sorry. But you see, I didn't know the chap. It's his wife
that I'm trying to find. She was married to a man named Pollock when I
knew her. I was rather a pal of Pollock's, belonged to the same squadron
and was shot down at the same time. I've been a prisoner in Germany.
Just got back, in fact. As you'll understand, I'm rather out of touch. I
thought you'd be able to tell me whether she still lived here."

It was very damping to his ardor at this particular moment to have
Maisie's matrimonial past raked up. Within the next half hour he would
very possibly be asking her to be his wife. He wasn't sure that he was
going to; but meeting this friend of her first husband on her doorstep
didn't help him to make up his mind. He was no longer unsympathetic to
the young fellow, but he was quite determined that he must be sent about
his business.

"As a matter of fact," he said, "the lady you're in search of does live
here. But she's not Mrs. Gervis any longer. She's married again. She's
Mrs. Lockwood now."

A glint of enmity came into the stranger's eyes. "Then you're Mr.
Lockwood, perhaps?"

Tabs answered him with a note of irritation. "I'm not Mr. Lockwood.
She's a widow. Lockwood also was killed. But I really don't see why you
should stop me on the pavement to ask so many questions. You can find
out everything by ringing the bell."

"That's right." The young fellow stroked his mustache. "But I didn't
want to do that until I had made certain. Surely you can see how
embarrassing---- And now this third chap's gone West, you say. Poor
little Maisie, she hasn't had much luck."

It was difficult to be brusque with a man of his own class, especially
with a man so genuinely likeable. But he had to get rid of him. After
having nerved himself up to the point of being at least prepared to
propose to Maisie, he couldn't contemplate an evening of sharing her
with a stranger and listening to the merits of her first husband.

"So you're an old friend! Well, I'm afraid she won't be free this
evening. I have an appointment with her. But, if you like, I'll mention
that I met you and I'll let