r ushered by a bland waiter into a comfortable room a
happier man than Knight when shown to where Elfride and her step-mother
were sitting after a fatiguing day of shopping.

Elfride looked none the better for her change: Knight was as brown as a
nut. They were soon engaged by themselves in a corner of the room. Now
that the precious words of promise had been spoken, the young girl had
no idea of keeping up her price by the system of reserve which other
more accomplished maidens use. Her lover was with her again, and it was
enough: she made her heart over to him entirely.

Dinner was soon despatched. And when a preliminary round of conversation
concerning their doings since the last parting had been concluded, they
reverted to the subject of to-morrow's journey home.

'That enervating ride through the myrtle climate of South Devon--how I
dread it to-morrow!' Mrs. Swancourt was saying. 'I had hoped the weather
would have been cooler by this time.'

'Did you ever go by water?' said Knight.

'Never--by never, I mean not since the time of railways.'

'Then if you can afford an additional day, I propose that we do it,'
said Knight. 'The Channel is like a lake just now. We should reach
Plymouth in about forty hours, I think, and the boats start from just
below the bridge here' (pointing over his shoulder eastward).

'Hear, hear!' said the vicar.

'It's an idea, certainly,' said his wife.

'Of course these coasters are rather tubby,' said Knight. 'But you
wouldn't mind that?'

'No: we wouldn't mind.'

'And the saloon is a place like the fishmarket of a ninth-rate country
town, but that wouldn't matter?'

'Oh dear, no. If we had only thought of it soon enough, we might have
had the use of Lord Luxellian's yacht. But never mind, we'll go. We
shall escape the worrying rattle through the whole length of London
to-morrow morning--not to mention the risk of being killed by excursion
trains, which is not a little one at this time of the year, if the
papers are true.'

Elfride, too, thought the arrangement delightful; and accordingly, ten
o'clock the following morning saw two cabs crawling round by the Mint,
and between the preternaturally high walls of Nightingale Lane towards
the river side.

The first vehicle was occupied by the travellers in person, and the
second brought up the luggage, under the supervision of Mrs. Snewson,
Mrs. Swancourt's maid--and for the last fortnight Elfride's also;
for although the young