im with you at
the theatre.

"I didn't suspect. I knew he found you there by chance, somehow. And I
noticed your dress there. No wonder your husband's poor. He wanted to
make you cut a figure as one of the handsomes, and that's as ruinous as
cabs--ha! ha!"

Anthony laughed, but did not reveal what had struck him.

"Sir William Blancove's house is a first-rater. I've been in it. He lives
in the library. All the other rooms--enter 'em, and if 'taint like a sort
of, a social sepulchre! Dashed if he can get his son to live with him;
though they're friends, and his son'll get all the money, and go into
Parliament, and cut a shine, never fear.

"By the way, I've seen Robert, too. He called on me at the Bank. Asked
after you.

"'Seen her?' says he.

"'No,' I says.

"'Ever see Mr. Edward Blancove here?' he says.

"I told him, I'd heard say, Mr. Edward was Continentalling. And then
Robert goes off. His opinion is you ain't in England; 'cause a policeman
he spoke to can't find you nowhere.

"'Come," says I, 'let's keep our detectives to catch thieves, and not go
distracting of 'em about a parcel o' women.'

"He's awfully down about Rhoda. She might do worse than take him. I don't
think he's got a ounce of a chance now Religion's set in, though he's the
mildest big 'un I ever come across. I forgot to haul him over about what
he 'd got to say about Mr. Edward. I did remark, I thought--ain't I
right?--Mr. Algernon's not the man?--eh? How come you in the theatre with
him?"

Dahlia spoke huskily. "He saw me. He had seen me at home. It was an
accident."

"Exactly how I put it to Robert. And he agreed with me. There's sense in
that young man. Your husband wouldn't let you come to us there--eh?
because he...why was that?"

Dahlia had it on her lips to say it "Because he was poorer than I
thought;" but in the intensity of her torment, the wretchedness of this
lie, revolted her. "Oh! for God's sake, uncle, give me peace about that."

The old man murmured: "Ay, ay;" and thought it natural that she should
shun an allusion to the circumstance.

They crossed one of the bridges, and Dahlia stopped and said: "Kiss me,
uncle."

"I ain't ashamed," said Anthony.

This being over, she insisted on his not accompanying her farther.

Anthony made her pledge her word of honour as a married woman, to bring
her husband to the identical spot where they stood at three o'clock in
the afternoon of Sunday week. She promised it.

"I'l