Kate, dear, what is the matter? Are you all right?' she said, seeing how cross her daughter-in-law was looking.

'Oh yes, I'm all right, but you do bother one so.'

This very injudicious phrase led to a demonstration of affection on the part of Mrs. Ede, and whatever were the chances of getting rid of her before, they were now reduced to nothing. The strain on her nerves was at height during the first half of the walk, for during that time she knew that Mr. Lennox was expecting her; afterwards, while bargaining with the fruiterer in St. John's Road, she fell into despondency. Nothing seemed to matter now; she did not care what might befall her, and in silence she accompanied her mother-in-law home.

'Now, mother, you must leave me; I've some work to finish.'

'I'm sorry, Kate, if——'

'Mother, I've some work to finish; good-night.'

And she sat in the workroom waiting for Mr. Lennox. At last his heavy step was heard on the stairs; then, laying aside the shirt she was making, she stole out to meet him. He saw her as he scraped a match on the wall; dropping it, he put out his hands towards her.

'Is that you, dear?' he said. 'Why didn't you come to the theatre? We had a magnificent house.'

'I couldn't; I met my mother-in-law.'

The red embers of the match that had fallen on the floor now went out, and the indication of their faces was swept away in the darkness.

'Let me get a light, dear.' The intonation of his voice as he said 'dear' caused her an involuntary feeling of voluptuousness. She trembled as the vague outline of his big cheeks became clear in the red flame of the match which he held in his hollowed hands.

'Won't you come in?' she heard him say a moment after.

'No, I couldn't; I must go upstairs in a minute. I only came to tell you, for I didn't want you to go away angry; it wasn't my fault. I should so much have liked to have gone to the theatre.'

'It was a pity you didn't come; I was waiting at the door for you. I could have sat by you the whole time.'

Kate's heart died within her at thought of what she had lost, and after a long silence she said very mournfully:

'Perhaps when you come back another time I shall be able to go to the theatre.'

'We've done so well here that we're going to get another date. I'll write and let you know.'

'Will you? And will you come back and lodge here?'

'Of course, and I hope that I shan't be so unlucky the next time as to fall down amid the crockery.'

At this they both laughed, and the conversation came to a pause.

'I must bid you good-night now.'

'But won't you kiss me—just a kiss, so that I may have something to think of?'

'Why do you want to kiss me? You have Miss Leslie to kiss.'

'I never kissed Leslie; that's all nonsense, and I want to kiss you because
I love you.'

Kate made no answer, and, following her into the heavy darkness that hung around the foot of the staircase, he took her in his arms. She at first made no resistance, but the passion of his kiss caused her a sudden revolt, and she struggled with him.

'Oh, Mr. Lennox, let me go, I beg of you,' she said, speaking with her lips close to his. 'Let me go, let me go; they will miss me.'

Possibly fearing another fall, Mr. Lennox loosed his embrace, and she left him.

VII

Next morning about eleven the mummer took off his hat in his very largest manner to the ladies, and the bow was so deferential, and seemed to betoken so much respect for the sex, that even Mrs. Ede could not help thinking that Mr. Lennox was very polite. Ralph too was impressed, as well he might be, so attentively did Dick listen to him, just as if nothing in the world concerned him as much as this last attack of asthma, and it was not until Mrs. Ede mentioned that they would be late for church that it occurred to Dick that his chance of catching the eleven o'clock train was growing more and more remote. With a hasty comment on his dilatoriness, he caught up a parcel and rug and shook hands with them all.

The cab rattled away, and Ralph proceeded up the red, silent streets towards the Wesleyan church, walking very slowly between his womankind.

'There's no doubt but that Mr. Lennox is a very nice man,' he said, after they had gone some twenty or thirty paces—'a very nice man indeed; you must admit, mother, that you were wrong.'

'He's polite, if you will,' replied Mrs. Ede, who for the last few minutes had been considering the ungodliness of travelling on a Sunday.

'Don't walk so fast,' Ralph cried.

'Well, then, we shall be late for church!'

'Which, then, is the most important in your eyes—Mr. Peppencott's sermon or my breath?'

'I'm not thinking of Mr. Peppencott's sermon.'

'Then of his voice in the prayer. Lennox may be no better than an actor,' he continued, 'but he's more fellow-feeling than you have. You saw yourself how interested he was in my complaint, and I shall try the cigarettes that used to give his mother relief.' He appealed to Kate, who answered him that it would be as well to try the cigarettes, and her thoughts floated away into a regret that Mr.