"Would you think me impertinent if I inquired how you and Madame
Bernstein amuse yourselves in the evenings? Have you been to any
theatres or to the opera?"

The girl shook her head. "I have never been inside a theatre in
London," she replied.

"Then perhaps I might be able to persuade you to let me take you to
one," he answered. "I might write to Madame Bernstein and arrange an
evening. Would she care about it, do you think?"

"I am sure she would," she answered. "And I know that I should enjoy
it immensely. It is very kind of you to ask us."

"It is very kind of you to promise to come," he said gratefully. "Then
I will arrange it for to-morrow night if possible. Good-bye."

"Good-bye," she answered, and held out her little hand to him for the
second time.

When the front door had closed behind him and he was fairly out in the
foggy street once more, Browne set off along the pavement on his return
journey, swinging his umbrella and whistling like a schoolboy. To a
crusty old bachelor his state of mind would have appeared inexplicable.
There was no sort of doubt about it, however, that he was happy; he
walked as if he were treading on air. It was a good suggestion, that
one about the theatre, he said to himself, and he would take care that
they enjoyed themselves. He would endeavour to obtain the best box at
the opera; they were playing _Lohengrin_ at the time, he remembered.
He would send one of his own carriages to meet them, and it should take
them home again. Then a still more brilliant idea occurred to him.
Why should he not arrange a nice little dinner at some restaurant
first? Not one of your flash dining-places but a quiet, comfortable
little place--Lallemand's, for instance, where the cooking is
irreproachable, the wine and waiting faultless, and the company who
frequent it beyond suspicion. And yet another notion, and as it
occurred to him he laughed aloud in the public street.

"There will be three of us," he said, "and the chaperon will need an
escort. By Jove! Jimmy called me mad, did he? Well, I'll be revenged
on him. _He shall sit beside Madame Bernstein_."

CHAPTER V

If Browne had ever looked forward to anything in his life, he did to
the dinner-party he had arranged for the evening following his visit to
the studio in the German Park Road. On more than one occasion he had
entertained royalty at his house in Park Lane, and at various times he
had invited London soc