which he forgot
to light, however. He seemed dissatisfied. He kept looking back to the
house from time to time. Was there no one else coming out? There was the
French window of the drawing-room still open; was there no glimmer of a
gray dress anywhere--with its ornamentation of a bunch of scarlet
geraniums? At last he made bold to say to the doctor:

"Where has Miss Francie gone to? Isn't she coming out too?"

"Oh, she's away after those London brats of hers, I have no doubt," the
old gentleman said. "You won't see her till teatime, if even then."
Whereupon Mangan lit his pipe, and proceeded to smoke in silence,
listening at times and absently to Lionel's vivacious talking to his
mother.

In fact, before Miss Francie Wright returned that afternoon, Lionel
found that he had to take his departure, for there are no trains to
Winstead on Sunday, and he would have to walk some three miles to the
nearest station. When he declared he had to go, the old lady's protests
and entreaties were almost piteous.

"You come to see us so seldom, Lionel! And of course we thought you'd
dine with us, at the very least; and if you could stay the night as
well, you know there's a room for Mr. Mangan too. And we were looking
forward to such a pleasant evening."

"But I have a long-standing engagement, mother; a dinner engagement--I
could not get out of it."

"And you are dragging Mr. Mangan away up to town again, on a beautiful
afternoon like this, when we know he is so fond of the country and of a
garden--"

"Not at all," Lionel said. "I need not spoil Maurice's day, if I have to
spoil my own; he'll stay, of course; and I suppose Francie will be back
directly."

"I'm sure, Mr. Mangan," the old lady said, turning at once to her other
guest, "if Lionel must really go, we shall be delighted if you will
remain and dine with us--I hope you will--and you can have Lionel's room
if you will stay the night as well."

"Thank you, I couldn't do that," said he, very gratefully, "but if you
will have me, I shall be very glad to stay on, and go up by a late
train. In the meantime, I think I'll walk to the station with Linn."

"And come back with a good appetite for dinner," said the doctor,
calling after him. "We'll have something better than lemonade, I warrant
ye!"

They have slow trains on these Surrey lines on Sunday; by the time that
Lionel had got up to town and driven to his rooms and dressed, it was
very near the hour at which he was