That's him! Torfs! He's all right!" etc.)
thrilled him with a sense of self-importance to which he had long been a
stranger. He found it a little difficult to refrain from raising his hat
and bowing his thanks to the kindly creatures. As for the lady, she
walked on air and seemed unconscious of an audience.

The cab was reached all too soon. Lionel waved aside a cloud of would-be
helpers, and with a sigh of misery opened the door. The lady got in; but
just as he was on the point of shutting himself off from every hope, she
leaned forward.

"There is room for two!" she breathed.

It was a fine thing for him that his hand was upon the door, for the
invitation shook him as the wind the rushes. The crowd, the pavement,
even the gross material substance of the constable, reeled before him.
He heard but dimly the voice of the chauffeur asking whither he was to
drive. "To Heaven!" he muttered, and then recklessly, "Or hell, if you
like!" The chauffeur looked anxiously at him, fearing he had suffered
mentally from his exertions. Lionel caught the suspicion in his eye and
steadied himself. "I beg your pardon," he said brokenly; "I was
repeating some poetry of my childhood--_Paradise Lost_--Milton, you
know. Can't imagine what put it in my head. Drive round and round the
park."

"Which park?" asked the man gruffly.

"The farthest and biggest," said Lionel, and clambered in.

They drove for several minutes without a word being spoken. Lionel was
so amazed by the aptness and desirability of the adventure that he could
not utter a word. He could only think, "What a perfectly topping girl!
How will it end? What shall I do--say--think? She is the most charming
creature I have met; she invites a kiss--might I?... Be careful, Lionel!
Your fortune is at stake! The secretaryship! Mrs. Barker and her rent!
A false step would ruin all! Besides, she is such a dear ..." These and
a hundred other fancies flickered through his brain.

The strange lady was silent, too. It may have been that she felt she had
been a little imprudent in her invitation to the cavalier, hero though
he was. Leaning back against the cushion, she gazed pensively out of the
window at the streets and traffic, lost in thought. Her companion stared
fixedly at the stolid back of the chauffeur: that, at least, was real
and a corrective.

It was the lady who spoke first, and with a sympathetic engaging accent,
nicely calculated to stir the most sluggish blood.

"Wel