ld rouse her, he was wrong.

"Yes?" she said indifferently, and with that laming want of curiosity
which prevents a subject from being followed up.

They sat in silence for some seconds. With her fingers, she pulled at
the fringe of the tablecloth. Then, all of a sudden rising from her
chair, she went over to the jug of roses, which she had placed on the
writing-table, bent over the flowers with a kind of perceptible
hesitation, and as suddenly came back to her seat.

"Suppose we went to-night." she said, and for the first time looked
hard at Maurice.

"To-night?" he had echoed, before he could check himself.

"Ah yes--I forgot. You are going out."

"That's the least of it," he answered, and stood up, fearful lest she
should sink back into her former listlessness. "But it's Christmas Eve.
There wouldn't be a soul on the river but ourselves. Are you sure you
would like it?"

"Just for that reason," she replied, and wound her handkerchief in and
out of her hands, so afraid was she now that he would refuse. "I could
be ready in five minutes."

With his brain in a whirl, Maurice went back to the flowershop, and,
having written a few words of apology on a card, ordered this to be
sent with his purchase to Miss Jensen. When he returned, Louise was
ready. But he was not satisfied: she did not know how cold it would be:
and he made her put on a heavy jacket under her fur cape, and take a
silk shawl, in which, if necessary, she could muffle up her head. He
himself carried a travelling-rug for her knees.

"As if we were going on a journey!" she said, as she obeyed him. Her
eyes shone with a spark of their old light, in approval of the
adventurous nature of their undertaking.

The hard-frozen streets, over which a cutting wind drove, were
deserted. In many windows, the golden glory of the CHRISTBAUM was
visible; the steep blackness of the houses was splashed with patches of
light. At intervals, a belated holidaymaker was still to be met with
hurrying townwards: only they two were leaving the town, and its
innocent revels, behind them. Maurice had a somewhat guilty feeling
about the whole affair: they also belonged by rights to the town
to-night. He was aware, too, of a vague anxiety, which he could not
repress; and these feelings successfully prevented him taking an undue
pleasure in what was happening to him. He had swung his skates, fetched
in passing, over his shoulder; and they walked as quickly as the
slippery sn