t _didn't_ always make people kind----

She started at the sound of the church clock and began to run, lest she
should be late for the promenade.

But when she arrived her budget of news proved very disappointing to
the expectant Lillie, who had lingered round the pay-box with her own
tea waiting at home in the hope of hearing in more detail what every
separate garment was like. But when she at length extracted the
information that Wilson was also there, and that the party had taken
afternoon tea together, her curiosity became intense.

"Did they look as if they were awfully gone on each other? I always
thinks she seems sweet, and I think he ought to consider himself lucky,
don't you? I say, fancy if you or I were in her place and going to be
married next month? Feel funny, wouldn't it? But I shouldn't care
much to be taking him on, should you? Too jolly cocksure for me."

"Chance is a bonny thing," said Caroline shortly. "I'll shut the door
if you don't mind. There's a fearful draught blows through this place
with it open."

The girl went round to the turnstile on her way out and addressed a
last remark to Caroline through the little window. "You needn't be
chippy with me because you haven't got twelve of everything all
hand-embroidered. It isn't my fault!" she flung over her shoulder.

And having thus revenged herself for her colleague's
uncommunicativeness, she went her way.

Caroline, left alone in her chair before the little window,
automatically scanned the faces of those passing through the barrier,
ready to release the clutch with a "Good evening" if the person were
known to her, or to say in a dull monotone, "Six-pence, please," to a
stranger. Every now and then she glanced at the darkening sky towards
the North where clouds were gathering up, and after a while, single
drops of rain began to fall. Very soon the empty promenade glittered
black under a downpour, the lights making streaks of pale gold across
it. People only came in now at infrequent intervals; a few dark
figures hurried along the promenade; while the sound of the band in the
covered hall drifted across through the open windows, mingling with the
deep voice of a storm rising far out at sea.

After a while Wilf passed through, ostentatiously indifferent. "Oh,
that you, Carrie? Good evening, I didn't see it was you at first.
Beastly night, isn't it?" And he went on jauntily, sticking his hands
in the pockets of his mackinto