know who
we are, and I'm sure I don't care who they are. My faith, Maisie, you're
looking lovely!'

Maisie stared directly in front of her and did not reply. The wind of a
keen clear winter morning had put colour into her cheeks. Overhead,
the creamy-yellow smoke-clouds were thinning away one by one against a
pale-blue sky, and the improvident sparrows broke off from water-spout
committees and cab-rank cabals to clamour of the coming of spring.

'It will be lovely weather in the country,' said Dick.

'But where are we going?'

'Wait and see.'

The stopped at Victoria, and Dick sought tickets. For less than half the
fraction of an instant it occurred to Maisie, comfortably settled by the
waiting-room fire, that it was much more pleasant to send a man to the
booking-office than to elbow one's own way through the crowd. Dick put
her into a Pullman,--solely on account of the warmth there; and she
regarded the extravagance with grave scandalised eyes as the train moved
out into the country.

'I wish I knew where we are going,' she repeated for the twentieth time.

The name of a well-remembered station flashed by, towards the end of the
run, and Maisie was delighted.

'Oh, Dick, you villain!'

'Well, I thought you might like to see the place again. You haven't been
here since the old times, have you?'

'No. I never cared to see Mrs. Jennett again; and she was all that was
ever there.'

'Not quite. Look out a minute. There's the windmill above the
potato-fields; they haven't built villas there yet; d'you remember when
I shut you up in it?'

'Yes. How she beat you for it! I never told it was you.'

'She guessed. I jammed a stick under the door and told you that I was
burying Amomma alive in the potatoes, and you believed me. You had a
trusting nature in those days.'

They laughed and leaned to look out, identifying ancient landmarks with
many reminiscences. Dick fixed his weather eye on the curve of Maisie's
cheek, very near his own, and watched the blood rise under the clear
skin. He congratulated himself upon his cunning, and looked that the
evening would bring him a great reward.

When the train stopped they went out to look at an old town with new
eyes. First, but from a distance, they regarded the house of Mrs.
Jennett.

'Suppose she should come out now, what would you do?' said Dick, with
mock terror.

'I should make a face.'

'Show, then,' said Dick, dropping into the speech of childhood.

Mais