s there, somewhere between him and Johnnie, within
fifty yards of both of them, mysterious and withdrawn as ever, busy at
something or other. And it was naught to Johnnie! By the thought of
all this the woe in him was strengthened and embittered. Nevertheless
his youth, aided by the astringent quality of the clear dawn, still
struggled sturdily against it. And he ate six times more breakfast than
his suffering and insupportable father.

At half-past one--it was Thursday, and the shop closed at two o'clock--
he had put on courage like a garment, and decided that he would see her
that afternoon or night, `or perish in the attempt.' And as the
remembered phrase of the Sunday passed through his mind, he inwardly
smiled and thought of school; and felt old and sure.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

TWO.

At five minutes to two, as he stood behind the eternal counter in his
eternal dream, he had the inexpressible and delectable shock of seeing
her. He was shot by the vision of her as by a bullet. She came in,
hurried and preoccupied, apparently full of purpose.

"Have you got a Bradshaw?" she inquired, after the briefest greeting,
gazing at him across the counter through her veil, as though imploring
him for Bradshaw.

"I'm afraid we haven't one left," he said. "You see it's getting on for
the end of the month. I could--No, I suppose you want it at once?"

"I want it now," she replied. "I'm going to London by the six express,
and what I want to know is whether I can get on to Brighton to-night.
They actually haven't a Bradshaw up there," half in scorn and half in
levity, "and they said you'd probably have one here. So I ran down."

"They'd be certain to have one at the Tiger," he murmured, reflecting.

"The Tiger!" Evidently she did not care for the idea of the Tiger.
"What about the railway station?"

"Yes, or the railway station. I'll go up there with you now if you
like, and find out for you. I know the head porter. We're just
closing. Father's at home. He's not very well."

She thanked him, relief in her voice.

In a minute he had put his hat and coat on and given instructions to
Stifford, and he was climbing Duck Bank with Hilda at his side. He had
forgiven her. Nay, he had forgotten her crime. The disaster, with all
its despair, was sponged clean from his mind like writing off a slate,
and as rapidly. It was effaced. He tried to collect his facu