ghed softly, but she seemed, even then, a little annoyed.

"You are not appreciating me," she declared. "Do you know that here,
in the wilderness, I have put on a Paquin muslin gown, white shoes
from Paris, white silk stockings--of which you can see at least two
inches," she added, glancing downwards. "I have risked my complexion
by wearing no hat, so that you can see my hair really at its best. I
looked in the glass before you came and even my vanity was
satisfied. Now I bring you away with me and find you a seat in a
bower of roses, and you look up into that elm tree as though you
were more anxious to find out where the thrush was singing than to
look at me."

He laughed. Through the raillery of her words he could detect a
certain half-girlish earnestness which seemed to him delightful.

"Try and remember," he said, "how wonderful a day like this must
seem to any one like myself, who has spent day after day for many
months in Tooley Street. I have been sitting up on the hills,
listening to the wind in the trees. You can't imagine the difference
when you've been used to hearing nothing but the rumble of drays on
their way to Bermondsey."

She looked up at him.

"You know," she declared, "you are rather a mysterious person. I
cannot make up my mind that you are forced to live the life you do."

"You do not suppose," he replied, "that any sane person would choose
it? It is well enough now, thanks to you," he added, dropping his
voice a little. "A week ago, I was earning twenty-eight shillings a
week, checking invoices and copying letters--an errand boy's work;
pure, unadulterated drudgery, working in a wretched atmosphere,
without much hope of advancement or anything else."

"But even then you leave part of my question unanswered," she
insisted. "You were not born to this sort of thing?"

"I was not," he admitted; "but what does it matter?"

"You don't care to tell me your history?" she asked lazily.
"Sometimes I am curious about it."

"If I refuse," he answered, "it may give you a false impression. I
will tell you a little, if I may. A few sentences will be enough."

"I should really like to hear," she told him.

"Very well, then," he replied. "My father was a clergyman, his
family was good. He and I lived almost alone. He had an income and
his stipend, but he was ambitious for me, and, by some means or
other, while I was away he was led to invest all his money with one
of these wretched bucket-shop compa