had she consented? The man could
never be anything to her; he was too old, too hard-featured, too grave.
Well, on that very account there would be no harm in meeting him. In
truth, she had not felt the courage to refuse; in a manner he had
overawed her.

And perhaps she would not keep the engagement. Nothing compelled her.
She had not told him her name, nor the house where she was employed.
There was a week to think it over.

All days and times were the same to him--he said. And he drove about
the country for his pleasure. A man of means. His name, according to
the card, was Edmund Widdowson.

He was upright in his walk, and strongly built. She noticed this as he
moved away from her. Fearful lest he should turn round, her eyes
glanced at his figure from moment to moment. But he did not once look
back.

* * * * * * * * * *

'And now to God the Father.' The bustle throughout the church wakened
her from reverie so complete that she knew not a syllable of the
sermon. After all she must deceive her sisters by inventing a text, and
perhaps a comment.

By an arrangement with Mrs. Conisbee, dinner was down in the parlour
to-day. A luxurious meal, moreover; for in her excitement Virginia had
resolved to make a feast of Monica's birthday. There was a tiny piece
of salmon, a dainty cutlet, and a cold blackcurrant tart. Virginia, at
home a constant vegetarian, took no share of the fish and meat--which
was only enough for one person. Alice, alone upstairs, made a dinner of
gruel.

Monica was to be at Queen's Road, Chelsea, by three o'clock. The
sisters hoped she would return to Lavender Hill with her news, but that
was left uncertain--by Monica herself purposely. As an amusement, she
had decided to keep her promise to Mr. Edmund Widdowson. She was
curious to see him again, and receive a new impression of his
personality. If he behaved as inoffensively as at Richmond,
acquaintance with him might be continued for the variety it brought
into her life. If anything unpleasant happened, she had only to walk
away. The slight, very slight, tremor of anticipation was reasonably to
be prized by a shop-girl at Messrs. Scotcher's.

Drawing near to Queen's Road--the wrapped-up Keble in her hand--she
began to wonder whether Miss Nunn would have any serious proposal to
offer. Virginia's report and ecstatic forecasts were, she knew, not
completely trustworthy; though more than ten years her sister's junior,
Monica saw the world with eye