own smartly almost on a lady's
lap. This was the lap of Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace, who greeted him with
a warm, quiet smile, and made a little room.

"Your sister-in-law has just been to see me, Mr. Dallison. She's such
a dear-so interested in everything. I tried to get her to come on to my
meeting with me."

Raising his hat, Hilary frowned. For once his delicacy was at fault. He
said:

"Ah, yes! Excuse me!" and got out.

Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace looked after him, and then glanced round the
omnibus. His conduct was very like the conduct of a man who had got in
to keep an assignation with a lady, and found that lady sitting next his
aunt. She was unable to see a soul who seemed to foster this view, and
sat thinking that he was "rather attractive." Suddenly her dark busy
eyes lighted on the figure of the little model strolling along again.

'Oh!' she thought. 'Ah! Yes, really! How very interesting!'

Hilary, to avoid meeting the girl point-blank, had turned up a
by-street, and, finding a convenient corner, waited. He was puzzled. If
this man were persecuting her with his attentions, why had he not gone
across when she was standing at the picture-shop?

She passed across the opening of the by-street, still walking in the
slack way of one who takes the pleasures of the streets. She passed from
view; Hilary strained his eyes to see if Hughs were following. He
waited several minutes. The man did not appear. The chase was over! And
suddenly it flashed across him that Hughs had merely dogged her to see
that she had no assignation with anybody. They had both been playing the
same game! He flushed up in that shady little street, in which he was
the only person to be seen. Cecilia was right! It was a sordid business.
A man more in touch with facts than Hilary would have had some mental
pigeonhole into which to put an incident like this; but, being by
profession concerned mainly with ideas and thoughts, he did not quite
know where he was. The habit of his mind precluded him from thinking
very definitely on any subject except his literary work--precluded him
especially in a matter of this sort, so inextricably entwined with that
delicate, dim question, the impact of class on class.

Pondering deeply, he ascended the leafy lane that leads between high
railings from Notting Hill to Kensington.

It was so far from traffic that every tree on either side was loud with
the Spring songs of birds; the scent of running sap came fort