y a bit, so that it had
swept behind her, hanging from one shoulder like some Grecian drapery,
and the rotund little man had trotted round her draped side, picked up
the cloak by the big button, and completed his trot, covering her up as
he moved.

And as he trotted his little porcine eyes had glistened as they
lingered upon the perfect figure, from the slim ankles to the confused
face, and Leonie had blushed, though you could not have discerned it
through the tan, pulled the cloak tighter and hurried across the road
to the cottage gate.

But with the clumsy swiftness of the elephantine, the man had run after
her and opened the cottage gate just as Susan Hetth opened the cottage
door with the welcoming announcement that tea was ready.

"Ha!" he had snorted as he almost ran up the path, leaving Leonie to
stand still and stare in amazement at the little scene. "And I'll have
some tea, too, Lady Susan Hetth, and how d'you do. Long time since we
met, eh?"

Diamonds sparkled in the sun as the man stretched out an effusive hand,
and a flame of anger sparkled in the small eyes as Lady Susan drew back
frigidly.

Not being of them herself she set all the greater store on knowing
those she considered exactly the right people.

"I don't think I have----" she commenced in her most primpsy voice,
when she was interrupted with a perfectly odious familiarity.

"Now you're not going to say that you don't remember our little
meetings in Earls Court _and_ Fleet Street and"--the man spoke with an
extreme slowness as though keeping guard over each letter of each
word--"_and_ our little correspondence, come now."

Leonie frowned and moved a step forward protectingly as her aunt caught
suddenly at the door handle, and then jerked herself forward with
outstretched hand.

"Auntie, dear----"

But her aunt was speaking in the falsetto of forced levity, and Leonie
held her peace and waited for an opportunity to slip past and into the
house.

"Why, I do believe," said Susan Hetth, suddenly metamorphosed by a
certain tone in the man's voice into the terrified woman of years ago,
"Yes! I do believe it is Mr. Walter Hickle----"

"_Sir_ Walter, _if_ you please."

"Indeed, in-deed--how _very_ delightful, and after _all_ these years!
Leonie, this is--is--er----"

"I'm one of your aunt's friends, Miss Leonie, bobbed up out of the
past. Glad to meet you, hope we shall be friends, too."

Leonie, who had gained the door, looked back