il? You would have been
killed but for this gentleman!"

"I wanted to catch the 'omlibus' for you, auntie!" he cried, with an
irrepressible sob, though he gallantly tried to hold back his tears.

"Hope the little fellow is none the worse of his fright," said the
Colonel, advancing and raising his hat. "Can I be of any use?--can I
call a cab?"

"No, thank you; I will take an omnibus and get home as soon as I can.
Cecil will soon forget his fright, I fear--"

"Sooner than you will," remarked Bertie. "There is a Royal Oak omnibus.
Will that do?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Come along, then, my young man; I will not let you go."

Bertie put the trio into the vehicle, and the lookers-on saw that he
shook hands with "auntie" as the conductor jumped on his perch and they
rolled on.

"Gad! there's a chance for you!" cried the Colonel as Bertie joined him.
"An uncommon fine girl, by George! What a coloring! and a splendid pair
of black eyes!"

"I suspect extreme fright did a good deal for both, poor girl. Her eyes
are brown, not black."

"Brown! Nonsense! Didn't _you_ think they were black?"

"I did not observe them," returned the grave personage he addressed,
indifferently. "The boy had a narrow escape. I must say good morning,"
he added.

"Stop a bit," cried the Colonel. "I must see you again before you leave
town. Dine with me to-morrow at the Junior. And, Bertie--"

"Thanks, no, I am engaged." He said good-by and walked on.

"Queer fellow that," said the Colonel, looking after him. "He got into
some money troubles in India, left the army, and got converted. Now he
is not exactly a Salvation soldier, but something of the kind. He'll be
at you one of the days for a subscription to convert the crossing
sweepers or some such undertaking. But you'll dine with me to-morrow.
I'll tell you all the Clayshire gossip."

"Thank you, I shall be very happy."

"Then good-by for the present, I am engaged to lunch to meet one of the
prettiest little widows you ever saw in your life, but she has no cash.
Here, hansom," calling to the driver of a cab which was passing slowly.
"I am a little late." He jumped in and drove off.

His friend, with a slight grave smile, continued his walk to the
Alexandria Hotel, the portals of which received him.

Meantime the hero of the cab incident sat very demurely by his young
aunt, as the omnibus rolled slowly up Park Lane, occasionally stealing
inquisitive glances at her face.

"You have