o your
mission--" he began.
But she had already started on across the wet pavement.
"I did not know you were going to give my flowers to those cripples," he
said, keeping pace with her.
[Illustration: "'I MEANT TO TAKE SOME FLOWERS, ANYWAY'"]
"Do you mind?" she asked, but she had not meant to say that, and she
walked a little more quickly to escape the quick reply.
"I want to ask you something," he said, after a moment's brisk walking.
"I wish--if you don't mind--I wish you would walk around the square with
me--just once--"
"Certainly not," she said; "and now you will say good-bye--because you
are going away, you say." She had stopped at the Fourth Avenue edge of
the square. "So good-bye, and thank you for the beautiful dog, and for
the violets."
"But you won't keep the dog, and you won't keep the violets," he said;
"and, besides, if you are going north--"
"Good-bye," she repeated, smiling.
"--besides," he went on, "I would like to know where you are going."
"That," she said, "is what I do not wish to tell you--or anybody."
There was a brief silence; the charm of her bent head distracted him.
"If you won't go," she said, with caprice, "I will walk once around the
square with you, but it is the silliest thing I have ever done in my
entire life."
"Why won't you keep the bull-terrier?" he asked, humbly.
"Because I'm going north--for one reason."
"Couldn't you take His Highness?"
"No--that is, I could, but--I can't explain--he would distract me."
"Shall I take him back, then?"
"Why?" she demanded, surprised.
"I--only I thought if you did not care for him--" he stammered. "You
see, I love the dog."
She bit her lip and bent her eyes on the ground. Again he quickened his
pace to keep step with her.
"You see," he said, searching about for the right phrase, "I wanted you
to have something that I could venture to offer you--er--something not
valuable--er--I mean not--er--"
"Your dog is a very valuable champion; everybody knows that," she said,
carelessly.
"Oh yes--he's a corker in his line; out of Empress by Ameer, you know--"
"I might manage ... to keep him ... for a while," she observed, without
enthusiasm. "At all events, I shall tie my violets to his collar."
He watched her; the roar of Broadway died out in his ears; in hers it
grew, increasing, louder, louder. A dim scene rose unbidden before her
eyes--the high gloom of a cathedral, the great organ's first unsteady
th
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