re they have those special coffee-creams, and who
should come out of it but Miss Daphne Wing and our friend Fiorsen;
and pretty hangdog he looked. He came up to me, with his little lady
watching him like a lynx. Really, my dear, I was rather sorry for him;
he'd got that hungry look of his; she'd been doing all the eating, I'm
sure. He asked me how you were. I told him, 'Very well.'

"'When you see her,' he said, 'tell her I haven't forgotten her, and
never shall. But she was quite right; this is the sort of lady that
I'm fit for.' And the way he looked at that girl made me feel quite
uncomfortable. Then he gave me one of his little bows; and off they
went, she as pleased as Punch. I really was sorry for him."

Gyp said quietly:

"Ah! you needn't have been, Auntie; he'll always be able to be sorry for
himself."

A little shocked at her niece's cynicism, Aunt Rosamund was silent. The
poor lady had not lived with Fiorsen!

That same afternoon, Gyp was sitting in a shelter on the common, a book
on her knee--thinking her one long thought: 'To-day is Thursday--Monday
week! Eleven days--still!'--when three figures came slowly toward her,
a man, a woman, and what should have been a dog. English love of beauty
and the rights of man had forced its nose back, deprived it of half its
ears, and all but three inches or so of tail. It had asthma--and waddled
in disillusionment. A voice said:

"This'll do, Maria. We can take the sun 'ere."

But for that voice, with the permanent cold hoarseness caught beside
innumerable graves, Gyp might not have recognized Mr. Wagge, for he had
taken off his beard, leaving nothing but side-whiskers, and Mrs. Wagge
had filled out wonderfully. They were some time settling down beside
her.

"You sit here, Maria; you won't get the sun in your eyes."

"No, Robert; I'll sit here. You sit there."

"No, YOU sit there."

"No, I will. Come, Duckie!"

But the dog, standing stockily on the pathway was gazing at Gyp, while
what was left of its broad nose moved from side to side. Mr. Wagge
followed the direction of its glance.

"Oh!" he said, "oh, this is a surprise!" And fumbling at his straw hat,
he passed his other hand over his sleeve and held it out to Gyp. It felt
almost dry, and fatter than it had been. While she was shaking it, the
dog moved forward and sat down on her feet. Mrs. Wagge also extended her
hand, clad in a shiny glove.

"This is a--a--pleasure," she murmured. "Who WOULD have t