appiness of everybody else. He was glad that the rich people were so
rich and the poor people so contented; he admired a young swell for
buying flowers from a woman with a shawl over her head; he mused on
all the honest, well-paid toil that had gone to the raising of the
grapes and peaches at a Piccadilly fruiterer's. "Live, and let
live"--that's a good motto all the world over. When he saw babies in
perambulators, he would have liked to kiss them. When he saw an
elderly man with a pretty young woman, he wanted to nudge him and say
jocosely, "You're in luck, old chap, aren't you?" When couples of boy
and girl lovers went whispering by, he smiled sentimentally. "That's
right. You can't begin too soon. Never mind what Ma says. If you like
him, stick to him, lassie."

And though still alone, he felt no loneliness. His own dear companion
was soon coming to him. Throughout the walk the only thoughts tinged
with solemnity were those which sprang from his always deepening
gratitude to Mr. Barradine. He wanted to pay a ceremonious call for
the purpose of expressing his thanks, and he felt that he should do
this immediately; but for the life of him he could not remember
whether the great man's London house was situated in Grosvenor Square
or Grosvenor Place. Mavis of course would know. Or he could find out
from one of these policemen. He hesitated, and it was the state of his
collar that decided him. He would postpone the visit of gratitude, and
do it first thing to-morrow morning in a clean collar.

The hall clock at his lodgings announced the hour as close on five,
and he mentally noted that the timepiece was inaccurate--three and a
half minutes behind Greenwich. As usual, the hall was untenanted, with
no servant to answer questions. He searched the dark recesses of a
dirty letter-rack, on the chance that he might find a telegram from
his wife waiting for him. Then he went gaily up the interminable
staircase, making nothing now of its five flights, enjoying their
steepness as productive of agreeable exercise.

"Hulloa!" he muttered. "What's this?"

A woman's hat and parasol were lying on a chair, and there was a
valise on the floor by the chest of drawers. Turning, he gave a cry of
delight. Mavis was stretched on the bed, fast asleep.

She woke at the sound of his voice, scrambled down, and flung herself
into his arms.

"Will, oh, Will. My dearest Will!

"My darling--my little sweetheart. But how have you come to me--h