Road. On
coming out from the station he found the fog so dense that it was
doubtful whether he could reach his journey's end. Cabs were not to be
had; he must either explore the gloom, with risk of getting nowhere at
all, or give it up and take a train back. But he longed too ardently
for the sight of Rhoda to abandon his evening without an effort. Having
with difficulty made his way into King's Road, he found progress easier
on account of the shop illuminations; the fog, however, was growing
every moment more fearsome, and when he had to turn out of the highway
his case appeared desperate. Literally he groped along, feeling the
fronts of the houses. As under ordinary circumstances he would have had
only just time enough to reach his cousin's punctually, he must be very
late: perhaps they would conclude that he had not ventured out on such
a night, and were already dining without him. No matter; as well go one
way as another now. After abandoning hope several times, and all but
asphyxiated, he found by inquiry of a man with whom he collided that he
was actually within a few doors of his destination. Another effort and
he rang a joyous peal at the bell.

A mistake. It was the wrong house, and he had to go two doors farther
on.

This time he procured admittance to the familiar little hall. The
servant smiled at him, but said nothing. He was led to the
drawing-room, and there found Rhoda Nunn alone. This fact did not so
much surprise him as Rhoda's appearance. For the first time since he
had known her, her dress was not uniform black; she wore a red silk
blouse with a black skirt, and so admirable was the effect of this
costume that he scarcely refrained from a delighted exclamation.

Some concern was visible in her face.

'I am sorry to say,' were her first words, 'that Miss Barfoot will not
be here in time for dinner. She went to Faversham this morning, and
ought to have been back about half-past seven. But a telegram came some
time ago. A thick fog caused her to miss the train, and the next
doesn't reach Victoria till ten minutes past ten.'

It was now half-past eight; dinner had been appointed for the hour.
Barfoot explained his lateness in arriving.

'Is it so bad as that? I didn't know.'

The situation embarrassed both of them. Barfoot suspected a hope on
Miss Nunn's part that he would relieve her of his company, but, even
had there been no external hindrance, he could not have relinquished
the happy occasi