'ave you all to 'imself for once," he
suggested tentatively. "There ain't much chance with a gal for another
cove when your Uncle Joe's about."

Millie laughed. "Why, it was Charlie who sent me to ask you, and to
say if you couldn't come to-night we would put it off. Oh! do come,
Uncle Joe. Charlie's going to take us to dinner at the Universal Cafe,
and they've got a band, and, oh! it will be lovely just having you
two."

"Well!" began Bindle, but discovering a slight huskiness in his voice
he coughed again loudly. "Seem to 'ave caught cold," he muttered, then
added, "Of course I might be able to put that job orf."

"But don't you want to come, Uncle Joe?" asked Millie, anxiety in her
voice.

"Want to come!" repeated Bindle. "Of course I want to come; but, well,
I wanted to be sure you wasn't jest askin' me because you thought it
'ud please your ole uncle," he concluded somewhat lamely.

"Oh, Uncle Joe!" cried Millie, "how could you think anything so
dreadful. Why, wasn't it you who gave me Charlie?"

Bindle looked curiously at her. He was always discovering in his niece
naive little touches that betokened the dawn of womanhood.

"Ain't we becomin' a woman, Millikins!" he cried, whereat Millie
blushed.

"Thank you so much for promising to come," she cried. "Seven o'clock
at Putney Bridge Station. Don't be late, and don't forget," she cried
and, with a nod and a smile, she was gone.

Bindle watched her neat little figure as she tripped away. At the
corner she turned and waved her hand to him, then disappeared.

"Now I don't remember promisin' nothink," he muttered. "Ain't that
jest Millikins all over, a-twistin' 'er pore ole uncle round 'er
little finger. Fancy 'Earty 'avin' a gal like that." He turned in the
direction of Fenton Street. "It's like an old 'en 'avin' a canary.
Funny place 'eaven," he remarked, shaking his head dolefully. "They
may make marriages there, but they make bloomers as well."

At five minutes to seven Bindle was at Putney Bridge Station.

"Makes me feel like five pound a week," he murmured, looking down at
his well-cut blue suit, terminating in patent boots, the result of his
historical visit to Lord Windover's tailor. "A pair o' yellow gloves
and an 'ard 'at 'ud make a dook out of a drain-man. Ullo, general!" he
cried as Sergeant Charles Dixon entered the station with a more than
ever radiant Millie clinging to his arm.

"'Ere, steady now, young feller," cautioned Bindle as he he