up" and my wife
and I were alone--and together.

I saw London again during the next few days. We rode on the tops of
busses, we visited Kew Gardens and Hampton Court and Windsor. We took
long trips up and down the Thames on the little steamers. Frances called
them our honeymoon trips. The time flew by. Then I received a note
from Hephzy that the "packing up" was finished at last and that she was
returning to London.

It was raining hard, the morning of her arrival, and I went alone to
meet her at the railway station. I was early there and, as I was walking
up, awaiting the train, I heard someone speak my name. I turned
and there, immaculate, serene and debonair as ever, was A. Carleton
Heathcroft.

"Ah, Knowles," he said, cheerfully. "Thought it was you. Haven't seen
you of late. Missed you at Burgleston, on the course. How are you?"

I told him I was quite well, and inquired concerning his own health.

"Topping," he replied. "Rotten weather, eh--what? And how's Miss--Oh,
dear me, always forget the name! The eccentric aunt who is so intensely
patriotic and American--How is she?"

"She is well, too," I answered.

"Couldn't think of her being ill, somehow," he observed. "And where have
you been, may I ask?"

I said I had been on the Continent for a short stay.

"Oh, yes! I remember now. Someone said you had gone. That reminds me:
Did you go to Paris? Did you see the girl who sang at the Abbey--the one
I told you of, who looked so like that pretty niece of yours? Hope you
did. The resemblance was quite extraordinary. Did you see her?"

I dodged the question. I asked him what he had been doing since the day
of the golf tournament.

"I--Oh, by Jove!" he exclaimed, "now I am going to surprise you. I have
been getting ready to take the fatal step. I'm going to be married."

"Married!" I repeated. "Really? The--the Warwickshire young lady, I
presume."

"Yes. How did you know of her?"

"Your aunt--Lady Carey--mentioned that your--your affections were
somewhat engaged in that quarter."

"Did she? Really! Yes, she would mention it, I suppose. She mentions it
to everybody; it's a sort of hobby of hers, like my humble self, and the
roses. She has been more insistent of late and at last I consented to
oblige her. Do you know, Knowles, I think she was rather fearful that I
might be smitten by your Miss Morley. Shared your fears, eh?"

I smiled, but I said nothing. A train which I believed to be the one
upon which