in an

want a change; also I am anxious to give Robert Inderwick a chance of taking his walks abroad in peace. Up to the present, since since that afternoon, each time I have met him he has bolted away other direction, as though I were afflicted with the plague. This seems so unnecessary, and must be extremely tiresome for him. So I will go.

CHAPTER XX

I Start on a Second Visit to Aunt Menelophe, and Rob

A

ert Inderwick Sees me off

UNT MENELOPHE said "Come," and I came. She wrote such a delightful letter. I

did not show it to mother and Angela, there were reasons for not so doing; Aunt Menelophe is almost painfully cute at times. But I read them selected bits.

My sister remarked that she appeared to have taken a strange and unaccountable fancy to me, and fell to musing upon it. Mother was more practical. She brought forth her account book and seven purses and boxes to see if by any manner of means she could possibly afford to spare the money for another visit.

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'It is not just the railway fare," she said in depressed accents, "there are the servants to be tipped, and you will require one new dress at least."

"James shall not have a tip," I said, “I don't like him, he is familiar; and a shilling each to the parlor and housemaids will be ample.'

"No, it won't," said mother, "I should not like John Wycherley's daughter to be considered mean."

I remarked that they could not have known father, as they had been in Aunt Menelophe's service only a short time; but mother told me not to argue, as it was a bad habit.

I left home feeling dull and depressed. The morning was raw and bitter, with the wind in the east-the special brand of wind which is conducive to headache.

"We shall be dull without you; don't be long away. I can't imagine why your Aunt Menelophe has invited you again so soon," said mother; "it would have been much pleasanter in the summer."

I kissed her good-by without replying, and then clambered into the 'bus.

Providence kindly and tactfully arranged that Robert Inderwick should travel that morning to Birkenhead by the same 'bus.

I distinguished his large, great-coated figure at the end of the Old Hall Road long before Jerry saw him, and my heart jumped into my mouth; it needn't have done so, it was a wasted activity, for on recognizing me as he was about to step inside the 'bus he merely bowed gravely and went outside. Now only a stupid man would do a thing like that. A woman would have more sense than to go and sit shivering in the raw air for an hour and a half on a bitter morning in January.

And yet he did not sound cold, I must confess. I could hear him chatting pleasantly with Jerry, and he was smoking, I knew, from the frequent striking of matches. Every now and again he would smooth the

bowl of his pipe with his hand, and when it was empty stroke it against his cheek. He would be admiring its color unconsciously, and when he had finished admiring it he would smell it lovingly. I had seen him do it a dozen times or more.

I was very dull. My sole companion was Peggy Shone, who has asthma and wheezes and takes snuff, and she would keep asking me how my ma was. After assuring her for the seventh time that my parent's health was exceptionally good I turned my back on her, and huddling myself into a corner, drew up the straw round my cold legs and feet. For the hundredth time I wished devoutly that the man outside had not asked me to marry him-at present. It had spoiled everything our fun, our walks, our talks-and left my life as dull as a graveyard. But for that proposition he would have been sitting beside me, inside the 'bus. Why could he not have withheld it-for at least another six months? Then I should have known him better, and-and would have been more than ever convinced that I had done the right thing in refusing him.

He had implied that he should be wretched, that he should never stop caring, that he might worry through somehow, but-and so on; and there he was talking and laughing most cheerfully with Jerry, while I sat, cold and wretched, listening to the wheezing of Peggy Shone.

I squeezed out a tear; but on reflecting that there was no one there to see it I wiped it away, as it smarted in the nipping atmosphere.

On arriving at Woodside I scrambled out as quickly as my benumbed feet would admit, and ran into the station in search of an outside porter, for whom we have been searching for years without any success. Jerry had dumped my trunk down on to the pavement. It would be too cumbersome for a stray thief to pick up and bear away, but my portmanteau and hatbox would fall an easy prey, so I was obliged to lug them along with me. An evil wind waltzed up the landing-stage from the river and, turning into the station, attempted to grab my hat. I resisted. It was the pink one: I had donned it for the sole purpose of teasing Aunt Menelophe; I had sacrificed my appearance in anticipation of the real pleasure I should derive from her countenance when her eyes fell upon me. It should not be wrested from me by any wind. With two fingers of the hand which held the hatbox I managed to seize it, and promptly the string of the box snapped in twain. As it fell it was dexterously caught by a hand which unexpectedly shot out from behind me.

وو

"You seem to be in difficulties. May I assist you? The offer came in a calm, unruffled voice, from Mr. Inderwick, while the portmanteau was drawn gently but firmly out of my hand.

"No, thank you," I said. them."

"A porter will carry

"He might if there were one, but he does not seem to exist; in the mean time I will, if you will permit?" "But my trunk! It is outside."