,' said Vincy. 'You're tired;
I wish I had a lift.'

'I am tired,' she spoke in rather a hoarse voice always. 'And I ought
not to stop long.'

'Oh, stay a minute longer, won't you?' he asked.

'Well, I like that! I've only just this moment arrived!'

'Oh, Mavis, don't say that! Have some tea.'

He waited on her till she looked brighter.

'How is Aunt Jessie?'

'Aunt Jessie's been rather ill.'

'Still that nasty pain?' asked Vincy.

She stared at him, then laughed.

'As if you remember anything about it.'

'Oh, Mavis! I do remember it. I remember what was the matter with her
quite well.'

'I bet you don't. What was it?' she asked, with childish eagerness.

'It was that wind round the heart that she gets sometimes. She told me
about it. Nothing seems to shift it, either.'

Mavis laughed--hoarse, childlike laughter that brought tears to her
eyes.

'It's a shame to make fun of Aunt Jessie; she's a very, very good
sort.'

'Oh, good gracious, Mavis, if it comes to sorts, I'm sure she's quite
at the top of the tree. But don't let's bother about her now.'

'What _do_ you want to bother about?'

'Couldn't you come out and dine with me, Mavis? It would be a
change'--he was going to say 'for you', but altered it--'for me.'

'Oh no, Vincy; you can't take me out to dinner. I don't look up to the
mark.' She looked in a glass. 'My hat--it's a very good hat--it cost
more than you'd think--but it shows signs of wear.'

'Oh, that reminds me,' began Vincy. 'What _do_ you think happened the
other day? A cousin of mine who was up in London a little while bought
a hat--it didn't suit her, and she insisted on giving it to me! She
didn't know what to do to get rid of it! I'd given her something or
other, for her birthday, and _she_ declared she would give this to _me_
for _my_ birthday, and so--I've got it on my hands.'

'What a very queer thing! It doesn't sound true.'

'No; does it? Do have some more tea, Mavis darling.'

'No, thanks; I'll have another cake.'

'May I smoke?'

She laughed. 'Asking _me_! You do what you like in your own house.'

'It's yours,' he answered, 'when you're here. And when you're not, even
more,' he added as an afterthought.

He struck a match; she laughed and said: 'I don't believe I understand
you a bit.'

'Oh--I went to the play last night,' said Vincy. 'Oh, Mavis, it was
such a wearing play.'

'All about nothing, I suppose? They always are, now.'

'Oh no. It was all about