e arithmetic with five pounds six and
twopence. In some vague way he inferred from all this that Jessie was
trying to escape from an undesirable marriage, but was saying these
things out of modesty. His circle of ideas was so limited.

"You know, Mr.--I've forgotten your name again."

Mr. Hoopdriver seemed lost in abstraction. "You can't go back of course,
quite like that," he said thoughtfully. His ears waxed suddenly red and
his cheeks flushed.

"But what IS your name?"

"Name!" said Mr. Hoopdriver. "Why!--Benson, of course."

"Mr. Benson--yes it's really very stupid of me. But I can never remember
names. I must make a note on my cuff." She clicked a little silver
pencil and wrote the name down. "If I could write to my friend. I
believe she would be able to help me to an independent life. I could
write to her--or telegraph. Write, I think. I could scarcely explain in
a telegram. I know she would help me."

Clearly there was only one course open to a gentleman under the
circumstances. "In that case," said Mr. Hoopdriver, "if you don't mind
trusting yourself to a stranger, we might continue as we are perhaps.
For a day or so. Until you heard." (Suppose thirty shillings a day, that
gives four days, say four thirties is hun' and twenty, six quid,--well,
three days, say; four ten.)

"You are very good to me."

His expression was eloquent.

"Very well, then, and thank you. It's wonderful--it's more than I
deserve that you--" She dropped the theme abruptly. "What was our bill
at Chichester?"

"Eigh?" said Mr. Hoopdriver, feigning a certain stupidity. There was a
brief discussion. Secretly he was delighted at her insistence in paying.
She carried her point. Their talk came round to their immediate plans
for the day. They decided to ride easily, through Havant, and stop,
perhaps, at Fareham or Southampton. For the previous day had tried them
both. Holding the map extended on his knee, Mr. Hoopdriver's eye fell
by chance on the bicycle at his feet. "That bicycle," he remarked, quite
irrelevantly, "wouldn't look the same machine if I got a big, double
Elarum instead of that little bell."

"Why?"

"Jest a thought." A pause.

"Very well, then,--Havant and lunch," said Jessie, rising.

"I wish, somehow, we could have managed it without stealing that
machine," said Hoopdriver. "Because it IS stealing it, you know, come to
think of it."

"Nonsense. If Mr. Bechamel troubles you--I will tell the whole world--if
nee