low me," Drexley said, stretching out his
hand, "I will take them with me and judge for myself. If I can use
them, Miss Strong, it will be a pleasure to me to do so; if I cannot, I
may be able to make some suggestion as to their disposal."

"It's awfully good of you, Drexley," Douglas declared, but Drexley was
bowing to Cicely. All the gratitude the heart of man could desire was
in those soft brown eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I see you've nearly finished," Drexley said. "I am only in time to
offer you liqueurs. I always take a _fin_ instead of a savoury, and I
shall take the liberty of ordering one for you, Jesson, and a _creme de
menthe_ for Miss Strong."

"You're very good," Douglas answered.

The order was given to the head-waiter himself, who stood by Drexley's
chair. Drexley raised his little glass and bowed to the girl.

"I drink your health, Miss Strong," he said, gravely, "and yours,
Jesson. May I find your stories as good as I expect to."

Cicely smiled back at him. Her face was scarlet, for the coupling of
their names, and Drexley's quiet smile, was significant. But Douglas
only laughed gaily as he reached for his hat, and drew Cicely's feather
boa around her with a little air of protection.

"Good night, Drexley," he said.

And Drexley, rising to his feet, bowed gravely, looking into the girl's
face with a light in his eyes which ever afterwards haunted her when his
name was mentioned--a light, half wistful, half kindly. For several
minutes after they had left, he sat looking idly at the "bill of fare"
with the same look on his face. There had been no such chance of
salvation for him.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE COUNTESS, THE COUSIN, AND THE CRITIC

Out in the streets they paused. A theatre or any place of amusement was
out of the question, for Cicely dared not stay out later than half-past
nine. Then a luminous idea came to Douglas.

"Why on earth shouldn't you come to my rooms?" he asked. "I can give
you some decent coffee and read you the first chapter of my novel."

She hesitated, but barely for a moment.

"It sounds delightful," she admitted. "I'll come. Glad to. Isn't it
lovely to be in this great city, and to know what freedom is--to do what
seems well and hear nothing of that everlasting 'other people say'?"

"It's magnificent," he answered.

He beckoned a hansom, handed her in, and somehow forgot to release her
hand. The wheels were rubber-tyred and the springs easy. They glided
into th