go about in directly, of
course," I explained. "Probably two or three cars----"

"Cars?" echoed Million, staring at me.

"Why, of course. Don't you see there's a new life beginning for you now?
A Rolls-Royce instead of a motor-'bus, and everything on the same scale.
You'll have to think in sovereigns now, Million, where you've always
thought in pennies----"

"What? Three pounds for a thrupenny ride to the Bank, d'you mean, miss?"
cried Million, with a little shriek. "Oh, my godfathers!"

At that excited little squeal of hers another passenger on the 'bus had
turned to glance at her across the gangway.

I met his eyes; the clear, blue, boyish eyes of the young man from next
door.

He looked away again immediately. There was an expression on his face
that seemed meant to emphasise, to underline, the announcement that he
had never seen me before. No. Apparently he had never set eyes on the
small, chestnut-haired girl (myself) in the shabby blue serge coat and
skirt and the straw hat that had been white last summer, and that was
now home-dyed--rather unsuccessfully--to something that called itself
black. So evidently Aunt Anastasia had been rude to him about yesterday
evening. Possibly she had forbidden him to speak to her niece and her
dear brother's child, and Lady Anastasia's great-granddaughter ever
again. This made my blood boil. Why must she make us look so ridiculous?
Such--such futile snobs? Without any apparent excuse for keeping
ourselves so aloof, either! To put on "select" airs without any
circumstances to carry them off with is like walking about in a
motor-coat and goggles when you haven't got any motor, when you never
will have any motor! It's Million who will have those.

Anyhow, I felt I didn't want him to think I was as absurd as my aunt. I
cleared my throat. I turned towards him. In quite a determined sort of
voice I said "Good morning!"

Hereupon the young man from next door raised his straw hat, and said
"Good morning" in a polite but distant tone.

He glanced at Million, then away again. In the blue eye nearest to me I
think I surprised a far-away twinkle. How awful! Possibly he was
thinking, "H'm! So the dragon of an aunt doesn't let the girl out now
without a maid as a chaperon to protect her! Is she afraid that somebody
may elope with her at half-past nine in the morning?"

I was sorry I'd spoken.

I looked hard away from the young man all the rest of the ride to
Chancery Lane.