nd trying to put them into practice."

"Nonsense, William. You may come of the oldest family in Devonshire,
but that's no reason why you should mind being seen alone with me on the
Embankment."

"I'm ten years older than you are, Katharine, and I know more of the
world than you do."

"Very well. Leave me and go home."

Rodney looked back over his shoulder and perceived that they were being
followed at a short distance by a taxicab, which evidently awaited his
summons. Katharine saw it, too, and exclaimed:

"Don't call that cab for me, William. I shall walk."

"Nonsense, Katharine; you'll do nothing of the kind. It's nearly twelve
o'clock, and we've walked too far as it is."

Katharine laughed and walked on so quickly that both Rodney and the
taxicab had to increase their pace to keep up with her.

"Now, William," she said, "if people see me racing along the Embankment
like this they WILL talk. You had far better say good-night, if you
don't want people to talk."

At this William beckoned, with a despotic gesture, to the cab with one
hand, and with the other he brought Katharine to a standstill.

"Don't let the man see us struggling, for God's sake!" he murmured.
Katharine stood for a moment quite still.

"There's more of the old maid in you than the poet," she observed
briefly.

William shut the door sharply, gave the address to the driver, and
turned away, lifting his hat punctiliously high in farewell to the
invisible lady.

He looked back after the cab twice, suspiciously, half expecting that
she would stop it and dismount; but it bore her swiftly on, and was
soon out of sight. William felt in the mood for a short soliloquy of
indignation, for Katharine had contrived to exasperate him in more ways
than one.

"Of all the unreasonable, inconsiderate creatures I've ever known, she's
the worst!" he exclaimed to himself, striding back along the Embankment.
"Heaven forbid that I should ever make a fool of myself with her
again. Why, I'd sooner marry the daughter of my landlady than Katharine
Hilbery! She'd leave me not a moment's peace--and she'd never understand
me--never, never, never!"

Uttered aloud and with vehemence so that the stars of Heaven might
hear, for there was no human being at hand, these sentiments sounded
satisfactorily irrefutable. Rodney quieted down, and walked on in
silence, until he perceived some one approaching him, who had something,
either in his walk or his dress, which procl