d left the place. Then he wandered aimlessly about the
streets. There seemed something flat about the morning, some aftermath
of the excitement of the previous night was still stirring in his blood.
Nevertheless, he pulled himself together with an effort, called for a
young surveyor whom he had engaged to assist him, and spent the rest of
the day out upon the hill. Religiously he kept his thoughts turned
upon his work until the twilight came. Then he hurried home to meet the
disappointment which he had more than half anticipated. There was no
telegram for him! He ate his dinner and sat with folded arms, looking
out into the street. Still no telegram! The restlessness came back once
more. Soon after ten o'clock it became unbearable. He found himself
longing for company, the loneliness of his little room since the
departure of Beatrice had never seemed so real a thing. He stood it as
long as he could and then, catching up his hat and stick, he set his
face eastwards, walking vigorously, and with frequent glances at the
clocks he passed.

A few minutes past eleven o'clock, he found himself once more in
that dark thoroughfare at the back of the theatre. The lamp over
the stage-door was flickering in the same uncertain manner, the same
motor-cars were there, the same crowd of young men, except that each
night they seemed to grow larger. This time he had a few minutes only to
wait. Beatrice came out among the earliest. At the sight of her he was
suddenly conscious that he had, after all, no excuse for coming, that
she would probably cross-examine him about Elizabeth, would probably
guess the secret of his torments. He shrank back, but he was a moment
too late for she had seen him. With a few words of excuse to the others
with whom she was talking, she picked up her skirts and came swiftly
across the muddy street. Tavernake had no time to escape. He
remained there until she came, but his cheeks were hot, and he had an
uncomfortable feeling that his presence, that their meeting like this,
was an embarrassment to both of them.

"My dear Leonard," she exclaimed, "why do you hide over there?"

"I don't know," he answered simply.

She laughed.

"It looks as though you didn't want to see me," she remarked. "If you
didn't, why are you here?"

"I suppose I did want to see you," he replied. "Anyhow, I was lonely. I
wanted to talk to some one. I walked all the way up here from Chelsea."

"You have something to tell me?" she sugg