rmation
from him about her brother's way of life. Mr. Keene always replied
with generalities. He was a man of humour in his way, and Alice came
to regard him with amusement. Then his extreme respect flattered her;
insensibly she took him for her criterion of gentility in men. He
supplied her with 'society' journals, and now and then suggested the
new novel that it behoved her to read. Richard had even withdrawn his
opposition to the theatre-going; about once in three weeks Mr. Keene
presented himself with tickets, and Alice, accompanied by her brother,
accepted his invitation.

He called this Monday evening. Mrs. Mutimer, after spending a day
of fretful misery, had gone to Wilton Square; 'Arry was away at his
classes. Alice was packing certain articles she had purchased in the
afternoon, and had just delighted her soul with the inspection of a
travelling cloak, also bought to-day. When the visitor was announced,
she threw the garment over her shoulders and appeared in it.

'Does this look nice, do you think?' she asked, after shaking hands as
joyously as her mood dictated.

'About as nice as a perfect thing always does when it's worn by a
perfect woman,' Mr. Keene replied, drawing back and inclining his body
at what he deemed a graceful angle.

'Oh, come, that's too much!' laughed Alice.

'Not a bit, Miss Mutimer. I suppose you travel in it tomorrow morning?'

'How did you know that?'

'I have heard from your brother to-day. I thought I might perhaps have
the great pleasure of doing you some slight service either to-night or
in the morning. You will allow me to attend you to the station?'

'I really don't think there's any need to trouble you,' Alice replied.
These respectful phrases always stirred her pleasurably: in listening
to them she bore herself with dignity, and endeavoured to make answer in
becoming diction.

'Trouble? What other object have I in life but to serve you? I'll put it
in another way: you won't refuse me the pleasure of being near you for a
few minutes?'

'I'm sure you're very kind. I know very well it's taking you out of your
way, but it isn't likely I shall refuse to let you come.'

Mr. Keene bowed low in silence.

'Have you brought me that paper?' Alice asked, seating herself with
careful arrangement of her dress. 'The Christmas number with the ghost
story you spoke of, you know?'

In the course of a varied life Mr. Keene had for some few months trodden
the boards of provincial t