Charing Cross would he undertake to go.

The passage over Trafalgar Square was so exciting that, when at length
the aged cabman touched pavement--that is to say, when his horse had
planted two forefeet firmly on the steps of the Golden Cross Hotel--he
announced that that precise point would be the end of the voyage.

'You go in there and sleep it off,' he advised his passengers. 'Chenies
Street won't see much of you to-night. And make it five bob, governor.
I've done my best.'

'You must stop the night here,' said Henry in a low voice to Geraldine,
before opening the doors of the hotel. 'And I,' he added quickly, 'will
go to Morley's. It's round the corner, and so I can't lose my way.'

'Yes, dear,' she acquiesced. 'I dare say that will be best.'

'Your eyes are a little black with the fog,' he told her.

'Are they?' she said, wiping them. 'Thanks for telling me.'

And they entered.

'Nasty night, sir,' the hall-porter greeted them.

'Very,' said Henry. 'This lady wants a room. Have you one?'

'Certainly, sir.'

At the foot of the staircase they shook hands, and kissed in
imagination.

'Good-night,' he said, and she said the same.

But when she had climbed three or four stairs, she gave a little start
and returned to him, smiling, appealing.

'I've only got a shilling or two,' she whispered. 'Can you lend me some
money to pay the bill with?'

He produced a sovereign. Since the last kiss in the cab, nothing had
afforded him one hundredth part of the joy which he experienced in
parting with that sovereign. The transfer of the coin, so natural, so
right, so proper, seemed to set a seal on what had occurred, to make it
real and effective. He wished to shower gold upon her.

As, bathed in joy and bliss, he watched her up the stairs, a little,
obscure compartment of his brain was thinking: 'If anyone had told me
two hours ago that before midnight I should be engaged to be married to
the finest woman I ever saw, I should have said they were off their
chumps. Curious, I've never mentioned her at home since she called!
Rather awkward!'

He turned sharply and resolutely to go to Morley's, and collided with
Mr. Dolbiac, who, strangely enough, was standing immediately behind him,
and gazing up the stairs, too.

'Ah, my bold buccaneer!' said Mr. Dolbiac familiarly. 'Digested those
_marrons glaces_? I've fairly caught you out this time, haven't I?'

Henry stared at him, startled, and blushed a deep crimson.