I was going,' said he boldly.

He put up his stick. Instead of a taxi a hansom drove up. Bruce hailed
it.

'Always like to give these chaps a turn when I can,' he said. It would
take longer.

'How kind-hearted you are,' murmured the girl. 'But I'd really rather
not, thank you.'

'Then how shall you get back?'

'Walk to the Tube.'

'Oh no; it's far too hot. Let me drop you, as I'm going in your
direction.'

He gave her a rather fixed look of admiration, and smiled. She gave a
slight look back and got into the cab.

'What ripping red hair,' said Bruce to himself as he followed her.

* * * * *

Before the end of the drive, which for him was a sort of adventure,
Mavis had promised to meet Bruce when she left her Art School next
Tuesday at a certain tea-shop in Bond Street.

Bruce went home happy and in good spirits again. There was no earthly
harm in being kind to a poor little girl like this. He might do a great
deal of good. She seemed to admire him. She thought him so clever.
Funny thing, there was no doubt he had the gift; women liked him, and
there you are. Look at Miss Mooney at the Mitchells' the other day,
why, she was ever so nice to him; went for him like one o'clock; but he
gave her no encouragement. Edith was there. He wouldn't worry her, dear
girl.

As he came towards home he smiled again. And Edith, dear Edith--she,
too, must be frightfully keen on him, when one came to think about it,
to forgive him so readily about Margaret Tow--Oh, confound Miss
Townsend. This girl was a picture, a sort of Rossetti, and she had had
such trouble lately--terrible trouble. The man she had been devoted to
for years had suddenly thrown her over, heartlessly.... What a brute he
must have been! She was going to tell him all about it on Tuesday. That
man must have been a fiend!...

'Holloa, Vincy! So glad you're still here. Let's have dinner, Edie.'

CHAPTER XXIII

At Lady Everard's

Lady Everard was sitting in her favourite attitude at her
writing-table, with her face turned to the door. She had once been
photographed at her writing-table, with a curtain behind her, and her
face turned to the door. The photograph had appeared in _The Queen, The
Ladies' Field, The Sketch, The Taller, The Bystander, Home Chat, Home
Notes, The Woman at Home_, and _Our Stately Homes of England_. It was a
favourite photograph of hers; she had taken a fancy to it, and
therefore she always liked to