y you're right, after all. She
had a sweet face, hadn't she? But look here, Dora," she went on with a
sudden change of tone, "did you ever know anything so awful? No--I can't
talk about it yet. Tell him to pull up at the Monico, and we'll have a
brandy and soda. I never wanted a drink so badly in my life."

The cab had meanwhile been rolling down Regent Street, and had almost
reached the Circus. Dora put her hand up through the trap and told the
cabman--whose opinion of his fares underwent an instantaneous change. He
nodded and said, "Yes, miss," and the next minute pulled up in front of
the square entrance to the cafe. Dora got out first and helped Carol
out; then she gave the cabman a shilling and they went in.

"Goes to a wedding, does a faint, comes out, and stops 'ere when they
ought to have been driven 'ome. Not much class there!" the cabman
soliloquised as he flicked his whip over his horse's ears and turned
across towards Piccadilly. He was, perhaps, naturally disgusted at the
meagre results of a job for which he had expected three or four
shillings at the very least.

The big cafe was almost deserted, as it usually is in the morning, and
the two girls found a secluded seat at one of the corner tables.

"Dora, you must pay for these," said Carol when they had given their
order, "and what's more you'll have to lend me some money to go on with,
for if I was starving I wouldn't spend another shilling of that man's
money."

"But, my dear child, I don't suppose he knew it," said Dora. "Of course
you can have anything I've got if you want it, and I quite understand
how you feel. It's very dreadful, horrible, in fact, but you couldn't
help it. You're not to blame, and I don't see that he is, after all's
said and done."

"No, I don't say that he is," said Carol, "and of course I couldn't
know, for he isn't a bit like his father. He was dark once, so I suppose
the--the other one takes after his mother. At least, he would do if she
was a fair woman. But just fancy me having that feeling about Vane that
night--feeling that I couldn't--and yet this one is just as near. God
forgive me, Dora, isn't it awful?"

"Well, never mind, dear," said Dora, as the waiter brought the drinks.
"I don't see that that matters one way or the other now. What's done
_is_ done, and there's an end of it. Well, here's fun, and better luck
next time!"

"Hope so!" said Carol somewhat bitterly, as she took a rather long pull
at her brandy a