hance
the poor soul had crippled herself by presenting her lover with a
Christmas gift which was beyond her means.

The third week of the holidays arrived; in another week school would
begin. Claire succumbed to temptation once more, purchased two good
tickets for an afternoon concert at the Queen's Hall, and invited Cecil
to be her guest. Cecil hesitated, evidently torn between two
attractions, asked permission to defer her answer until the next day,
but finally decided to accept. From remarks dropped from time to time
Claire had gathered that Major Carew was not fond of indoor
entertainments, and somewhat disappointed his _fiancee_ by his
unwillingness to indulge her wishes in that respect. In this instance
she had evidently balanced the concert against an afternoon in the
Major's society, and the concert had won. Claire found herself
cordially in agreement.

When the afternoon arrived the two girls arrayed themselves in their
best clothes, and set off in high spirits for their afternoon's
amusement. Their seats were in a good position, and the concert was one
of the best of the season. All went as happily as it could possibly go,
until the last strains of "God save the King" had been played, and the
audience filed out of the hall on to the crowded pavement, and then,
with a throb of disgust, Claire recognised the figure of a man who was
standing directly beneath a lamp-post, his black eyes curiously scanning
the passing stream--Major Carew! He had evidently been told of the
girls' destination, and had come with the express purpose of meeting
them coming out. For the moment, however, they were unrecognised, and
Claire gave a quick swerve to the right, hurrying out of the patch of
light into the dimness beyond. The street was so full that, given a
minute's start, it would surely be easy to escape. She slid her hand
through Cecil's arm, drawing her forward.

"Come along! Come along! Let's hurry to Fuller's before all the tables
are taken!"

"Fuller's? Tea? How scrumptious! Just what I longed for. Listening
to classical music _is_ thirsty work!" Cecil replied, laughing. She
was so lively, so natural and unconcerted that Claire absolved her on
the moment from any arrangement as to a _rendez-vous_. In her anxiety
to secure the longed-for cup of tea she broke into a half-run, but it
was too late; the sharp black eyes had spied them out, the tall figure
loomed by their side, the large face, with its