ng
outside.

"You've forgotten your cab," she remarked.

"What cab?"

"The one you told to wait outside."

"What of it?"

"Won't he charge?"

"Of course. What of it?"

"What an extravagance!" she commented.

She could say no more; a procession of dishes commenced: meats, ices,
sweetmeats, fruit, wines, coffee, liqueurs; all of which were refused,
first by Mavis, then by Windebank.

Mavis, who had been accustomed to consider carefully the spending of a
penny, was appalled at the waste. She had hoped that Windebank, after
seeing how she was resolved to keep her word, would have countermanded
the expensive supper he had ordered; failing this, that the management
of the restaurant would not charge for the unconsumed meats and wine.
Windebank would have been flattered could he have known of Mavis's
consideration for his pocket.

He and the girl talked when the attendants were out of the way, to stop
conversing when they were immediately about them; the two would resume
where they had left off, directly they were sure of not being overheard.

"Just imagine, if you were little Mavis Keeves grown up," began
Windebank.

"Never mind about her," replied Mavis uneasily.

"But I do. I loved her, the cheeky little wretch."

"Was she?"

"A little flirt, too."

"Oh no."

"Fact. I think it made me love her all the more."

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" she asked, making a sad little
effort to be light-hearted.

"I wish I could. There was a chap named Perigal, whom the little flirt
preferred to me."

"Perigal?"

"Charlie Perigal. We were laughing about it only the week before last."

"He loved her too?"

"Rather. I remember we both subscribed to buy her a birthday present.
Anyway, the week before last, we both asked each other what had become
of her, and promised to let each other know if we heard anything of
her."

"If I were Mavis Keeves, would you let him know?"

"No fear."

Mavis smiled at the reply.

"Then we come to to-day," continued Windebank.

"The least said of to-day the better."

"I'm not so sure; it may have the happiest results."

"Don't talk nonsense."

"Do let me go on. Assuming you were little Mavis, where do I find
her--eh?"

Here Windebank's face hardened.

"That woman ought to be shot," he cried. "As it is, I've a jolly good
mind to show her up. And to think she got you there!"

"Ssh!"

"You've no idea what a house it is. It's quite the worst thing of its
kind