and they had a decorous but wholly satisfying promenade in
the park. Tea followed, and he escorted her part of the way home. From
that date the Sunday walk became an institution, and even an occasional
visit to the theater of an evening was allowed.

It would be tedious to follow the affair in detail. Suffice it to say
that at the end of three months Henry Brown found himself sincerely in
love. He had not made a formal offer as yet, fearing that the lady's
heart was not sufficiently _intrigue_. He was immensely satisfied with
the change in his life and new comradeship, which he hoped would develop
into something warmer. But, afraid of being too precipitate, he
contented himself with making her presents of flowers, chocolates, or an
occasional piece of jewelry of the Mizpah type. He trusted that his
personality, generous handling of the case, and time ("Giving her rope
enough to hang herself" was his well-meant but unfortunate metaphor)
would dispose her to favor his suit. The lady appeared perfectly content
with the situation; she accepted his gifts with careless thanks and a
charming smile, enjoyed the promenades, but was sedulous to keep him
away from a definite statement or even a plain-spoken hint of his
feelings. Was she a designing creature who wished to get as much as she
could from him before saying "No"? Or did a nobler emotion possess her?
Was she judiciously probing his character and sounding the depths of her
own feelings?

However this may have been, there is no doubt that both were content
with the present. And on a night in June, some three weeks before the
events of the last chapter, Henry Brown might have been seen seated
opposite his friend in a cheap Soho restaurant. They had just finished
supper, and both were smoking. To be honest, Mr. Brown did not
altogether approve of the cigarette, but he had never dared to object.
"Besides," he thought tolerantly, "these foreigners.... But what I
wonder is, when they marry do they take to a pipe? If so, good lord!..."
His distress vanished as he looked again upon her: she was too pretty to
disapprove of. "A bit of Orl right," he reflected; "if only I dared ask
her and she said 'Yes.'"

The time for separation came at last, and Mr. Brown sighed as he helped
her put on her coat. On the steps of the restaurant they paused, for it
was raining. "You must have a cab," he said decisively; and then,
hesitating, "I wish you would let me see you home for once."

She