cried, 'a tall, dark girl, with untidy hair and rather
weak eyes?'

"'Tall and dark,' he replied 'with 'air that seems tryin' to reach 'er
lips to kiss 'em, and heyes, light blue, like a Cambridge necktie. A
'undred and seventy-three was the number.'

"'That's right,' I said; 'my dear Smith, this is becoming complicated.
You've met the lady and talked to her for half an hour--as Smythe, don't
you remember?'

"'No,' he said, after cogitating for a minute, 'carn't say I do; I never
can remember much about Smythe. He allers seems to me like a bad dream.'

"'Well, you met her,' I said; 'I'm positive. I introduced you to her
myself, and she confided to me afterwards that she thought you a most
charming man.'

"'No--did she?' he remarked, evidently softening in his feelings towards
Smythe; 'and did _I_ like '_er_?'

"'Well, to tell the truth,' I answered, 'I don't think you did. You
looked intensely bored.'

"'The Juggins,' I heard him mutter to himself, and then he said aloud:
'D'yer think I shall get a chance o' seein' 'er agen, when I'm--when I'm
Smythe?'

"'Of course,' I said, 'I'll take you round myself. By the bye,' I added,
jumping up and looking on the mantelpiece, 'I've got a card for a
Cinderella at their place--something to do with a birthday. Will you be
Smythe on November the twentieth?'

"'Ye--as,' he replied; 'oh, yas--bound to be by then.'

"'Very well, then,' I said, 'I'll call round for you at the Albany, and
we'll go together.'

"He rose and stood smoothing his hat with his sleeve. 'Fust time I've
ever looked for'ard to bein' that hanimated corpse, Smythe,' he said
slowly. 'Blowed if I don't try to 'urry it up--'pon my sivey I will.'

"'He'll be no good to you till the twentieth,' I reminded him. 'And,' I
added, as I stood up to ring the bell, 'you're sure it's a genuine case
this time. You won't be going back to 'Liza?'

"'Oh, don't talk 'bout 'Liza in the same breath with Hedith,' he replied,
'it sounds like sacrilege.'

"He stood hesitating with the handle of the door in his hand. At last,
opening it and looking very hard at his hat, he said, 'I'm goin' to
'Arley Street now. I walk up and down outside the 'ouse every evening,
and sometimes, when there ain't no one lookin', I get a chance to kiss
the doorstep.'

"He disappeared, and I returned to my chair.

"On November twentieth, I called for him according to promise. I found
him on the point of starting for the club: h