that, for me, at least, Worcester is not London."

He was so completely taken aback by this utterly unexpected speech, as
well as by the unwonted tone in which it was spoken, that his
outstretched hand dropped to his side somewhat limply, and he felt
himself straightening up and staring at her in blank astonishment.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Murray," he said, in a tone which sounded a
great deal more awkward than he meant it to do. "Of course, I was quite
wrong; I ought not to have forgotten."

"There is no necessity for an apology," she said, more distantly than
before. "Will you sit down? You want to see me about something, I
suppose?"

"Yes," he said, sitting down and fingering the brim of his hat somewhat
nervously. "Yes, that is what I have come over to Worcester for. In
fact, I have been wanting to see you for some time. In the first place,
I had a rather extraordinary letter from Carol some time ago, sending
back some money which I, of course, can't accept, so I've brought it
with me to ask you to take it and use it in any way that you think fit."

"You mean, of course, in charity?" said Dora, looking him straight in
the eyes. "You wouldn't insult me by meaning it in any other way."

"Oh, no, certainly not," he said, more awkwardly than before, and
wondering what on earth had produced this extraordinary change in her
manner. "I hope you know me well enough to believe me quite incapable of
such a thing."

"If you only knew how well I know you!" thought Dora, "I wonder what
you'd think?"

But she said aloud, and rather more kindly than before:

"You must forgive me, Mr. Garthorne, I spoke rather hastily then. I
quite see what you mean. It's very good of you, and I'm sure that if
Carol were here she would tell me to take the money and use it that
way--so I will."

"Thank you very much, Miss Murray," he replied, taking an envelope out
of his pocket-book. "There are the notes and postal orders exactly as
she sent them to me. And now, may I ask where she is?"

"I can't answer that, Mr. Garthorne, because I don't know. The night
that she sent you that money back she made the acquaintance of a very
nice fellow who is something more than a millionaire, and since then
they've been taking a sort of irregular honeymoon round the world. The
last letter I had from her was from Sydney. She seems very jolly and
enjoying herself immensely."

"Glad to hear it," said Garthorne, speaking the thing which was not
altoge