pping evening!" said Freddie conversationally.

"Yes."

They walked through the square in silence. Freddie shot an
appreciative glance at his companion. Freddie, as he would have
admitted frankly, was not much of a lad for the modern girl. The
modern girl, he considered, was too dashed rowdy and exuberant for a
chappie of peaceful tastes. Now, this girl, on the other hand, had all
the earmarks of being something of a topper. She had a soft voice.
Rummy accent and all that, but nevertheless a soft and pleasing voice.
She was mild and unaggressive, and these were qualities which Freddie
esteemed. Freddie, though this was a thing he would not have admitted,
was afraid of girls, the sort of girls he had to take down to dinner
and dance with and so forth. They were too dashed clever, and always
seemed to be waiting for a chance to score off a fellow. This one was
not like that. Not a bit. She was gentle and quiet and what not.

It was at this point that it came home to him how remarkably quiet she
was. She had not said a word for the last five minutes. He was just
about to break the silence, when, as they passed under a street lamp,
he perceived that she was crying--crying very softly to herself, like
a child in the dark.

"Good God!" said Freddie appalled. There were two things in life with
which he felt totally unable to cope--crying girls and dog-fights. The
glimpse he had caught of Nelly's face froze him into a speechlessness
which lasted until they reached Daubeny Street and stopped at her
door.

"Good-bye," said Nelly.

"Good-bye-ee!" said Freddie mechanically. "That's to say, I mean to
say, half a second!" he added quickly. He faced her nervously, with
one hand on the grimy railings. This wanted looking into. When it came
to girls trickling to and fro in the public streets, weeping, well, it
was pretty rotten and something had to be done about it. "What's up?"
he demanded.

"It's nothing. Good-bye."

"But, my dear old soul," said Freddie, clutching the railing for moral
support, "it is something. It must be! You might not think it, to look
at me, but I'm really rather a dashed shrewd chap, and I can _see_
there's something up. Why not give me the jolly old scenario and see
if we can't do something?"

Nelly moved as if to turn to the door, then stopped. She was
thoroughly ashamed of herself.

"I'm a fool!"

"No, no!"

"Yes, I am. I don't often act this way, but, oh, gee! hearing you all
talking like t