ir table, he
breathing easily and regularly as a trained dancer in perfect condition
should, she tottering a little with the sudden rapture of it all, they
would sit with their heads close together and start a new life. That
was the scenario which Henry had drafted.

It worked out--up to a certain point--as smoothly as ever it had done
in his dreams. The only hitch which he had feared--to wit, the
non-appearance of Sidney Mercer, did not occur. It would spoil the
scene a little, he had felt, if Sidney Mercer did not present himself
to play the role of foil; but he need have had no fears on this point.
Sidney had the gift, not uncommon in the chinless, smooth-baked type of
man, of being able to see a pretty girl come into the restaurant even
when his back was towards the door. They had hardly seated themselves
when he was beside their table bleating greetings.

'Why, Henry! Always here!'

'Wife's birthday.'

'Many happy returns of the day, Mrs Mills. We've just time for one turn
before the waiter comes with your order. Come along.'

The band was staggering into a fresh tune, a tune that Henry knew well.
Many a time had Mme Gavarni hammered it out of an aged and unwilling
piano in order that he might dance with her blue-eyed niece. He rose.

'No!' he exclaimed grandly. 'I am going to dance with my wife!'

He had not under-estimated the sensation which he had looked forward to
causing. Minnie looked at him with round eyes. Sidney Mercer was
obviously startled.

'I thought you couldn't dance.'

'You never can tell,' said Henry, lightly. 'It looks easy enough.
Anyway, I'll try.'

'Henry!' cried Minnie, as he clasped her.

He had supposed that she would say something like that, but hardly in
that kind of voice. There is a way of saying 'Henry!' which conveys
surprised admiration and remorseful devotion; but she had not said it
in that way. There had been a note of horror in her voice. Henry's was
a simple mind, and the obvious solution, that Minnie thought that he
had drunk too much red wine at the Italian restaurant, did not occur to
him.

He was, indeed, at the moment too busy to analyse vocal inflections.
They were on the floor now, and it was beginning to creep upon him like
a chill wind that the scenario which he had mapped out was subject to
unforeseen alterations.

At first all had been well. They had been almost alone on the floor,
and he had begun moving his feet along dotted line A B with the smooth