ewes last week. I found I was getting out of
temper with everybody and everything, so I suddenly remembered that I
had an empty house here and came up."

"To the city of adventures," he murmured.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"London has never seemed like that to me. I find it generally a very
ugly and a very sordid place, where I am hedged in with relatives,
generally wanting me to do the thing I loathe.--You have really no news
for me, then?"

"None, except that I am glad to see you."

"When will you come and have a long talk?"

"Will you dine with me to-morrow night?" he begged eagerly. "In the
afternoon I have committee meetings. Thursday afternoon you could come
down to the House, if you cared to."

"Of course I should, but hadn't you better dine here?" she suggested.
"I can ask Alice and another man."

"I want to see you alone," he insisted, "for the first time, at any
rate."

"Then will you take me to that little place you told me of in Soho?" she
suggested. "I don't want a whole crowd to know that I am in town just
yet. Don't think that it sounds vain, but people have such a habit of
almost carrying one off one's feet. I want to prowl about London and do
ordinary things. One or two theatres, perhaps, but no dinner parties.
I shan't stay long, I don't suppose. As soon as I hear from Mr.
Segerson that the snow has gone and that terrible north wind has died
away, I know I shall be wanting to get back."

"You are very conscientious about your work there," he complained.
"Don't you ever realise that you may have an even more important mission
here?"

For a single moment she seemed troubled. Her manner, when she spoke,
had lost something of its calm graciousness.

"Really?" she said. "Well, you must tell me all about it to-morrow
night. I shall wear a hat and you must not order the dinner beforehand.
I don't mind your ordering the table, because I like a corner, but we
must sail into the place just like any other two wanderers. It is
agreed?"

He bent over her fingers. His good angel and his instinct of
sensibility, which was always appraising her attitude towards him,
prompted his studied farewell.

"You will let yourself out?" she begged. "I have taken off my cloak and
I could not face that wind."

"Of course," he answered. "I shall call for you at a quarter to eight
to-morrow night. I only wish I could make you understand what it means
to have that to look forward to."

"If you can make me be