esterday afternoon, dressing the window at our establishment, so
that he won't put in an appearance at the Marble Arch this evening."

"Why not?"

"Because I told him I was an artist. Said I had a picture in the Royal
Academy the year before last."

"You are rather foolish at times, aren't you?"

"I wish, darling," wailed Miss Radford, "that you could tell me
something I don't know."

The clock on the mantelpiece struck the half-hour, and Mrs. Mills's
niece, suddenly alarmed, said she would not be absent for more than ten
minutes, an announcement the visitor received with an incredulous shake
of the head. As a fact, Gertie returned in five minutes fully
apparelled, to discover Miss Radford improved in spirits and ready for
more conversation.

"A new blouse?" she cried, interrupting herself. "And you never told
me. Gertie Higham," solemnly, "this isn't what I call friendship."

The girl went straight through the shop, and looking up and down Praed
Street, remarked to Mrs. Mills that it intended to be a fine evening.
The elder lady said it was high time Gertie found a young man to take
her out; the girl answered composedly that perhaps Mr. Trew might call
and do her this service.

"Or Fred Bulpert?" remarked the aunt pointedly.

"No," she answered, "not Mr. Bulpert, thank you. Mr. Trew is
different."

"He isn't the man he was when I first knew him."

"I like him because he's the man he is."

She turned quickly at the sound of a deep, husky voice. Mr. Trew, on
the mat, opened his arms at sight of her, and beamed with a face that
was like the midday sun; she took his sleeve and pulled him to the
pavement.

"At five minutes to five," she whispered urgently, "you're going to
take me for a walk in Hyde Park."

"At four fifty-five to the minute," he agreed. "What's the game, may I
kindly ask?"

"I'll tell you later on."

"I hadn't noticed it," he said loudly, re-entering the shop, "until my
attention was drawed to it by the little missy here. But there it is
right enough on the playcards. 'Motor omnibuses for London.'" He
shook his head, and, leaning across the counter, addressed Mrs. Mills.
"Light of my life, sunshine of my existence--"

"Don't you begin your nonsense," ordered the lady, not displeased.

"--And sweetheart when a boy, I warn you against putting any of your
ill-gotten gains into that sort of speculation. They may perhaps start
one from the Elephant and it'll get about as fur as