,' and she blushed and looked down, and then of course I knew,
and I asked 'er to marry me. I don't think either of us 'ad cause to
regret it," added the old man huskily. "God knows I 'adn't."

Patricia felt that she wanted both to laugh and to cry. She could say
nothing, words seemed so hopelessly inadequate.

"You see this is our wedding-day, that's why I wanted to come,"
continued Mr. Triggs, blinking his eyes, in which there was a
suspicious moisture.

"Oh! thank you so much for bringing me," said Patricia, and she knew as
she saw the bright smile with which Mr. Triggs looked at her that she
had said the right thing.

"Thirty years and never a cross word," he murmured. "She'd 'ave liked
you, me dear," he added; "she 'ad wonderful instinct, and everybody
loved her. 'Ere, but look at me," he suddenly broke off, "spoilin'
your afternoon, and you lookin' so tired. Come along," and Mr. Triggs
trotted off in the direction of the seals, who were intimating clearly
that they thought that something must be wrong with the official clock.
They were quite ready for their meal.

For two hours Patricia and Mr. Triggs wandered about the Zoo, roving
from one group of animals to another, behaving rather like two children
who had at last escaped from the bondage of the school-room.

After tea they strolled through Regent's Park, watching the squirrels
and talking about the thousand and one things that good comrades have
to talk about. Mr. Triggs told something of his early struggles, how
his wife had always believed in him and been his helpmate and loyal
comrade, how he missed her, and how, when she had died, she had urged
him to marry again.

"Sam," she had said, "you want a woman to look after you; you're
nothing but a great, big baby."

"And she was right, me dear," said Mr. Triggs huskily, "she was right
as she always was, only she didn't know that there couldn't ever be
anyone after 'er."

Slowly and tactfully Patricia guided the old man's thoughts away from
the sad subject of his wife's death, and soon had him laughing gaily at
some stories she had heard the night previously from the Bowens. Mr.
Triggs was as easily diverted from sadness to laughter as a child.

It was half-past seven when they left the Park gates, and Patricia,
looking suddenly at her wristlet watch, cried out, "Oh! I shall be
late for dinner, I must fly!"

"You're going to dine with me, me dear," announced Mr. Triggs.

"Oh, but I can't