"Devilish nice, _I_ tell you. But not my style. But there's a girl I know--lives down the Camberwell New Road. She is a treat now,--a fair treat. About seventeen, and plump as a pigeon. I shall see her to-night." "Oh, indeed!" said Richard, for the hundredth time marvelling that he should be on a footing of intimacy with Albert Jenkins. The girl at Carteret Street, whatever her imperfections, did not use the Cockney dialect. And her smile was certainly alluring. Moreover, she had dignity. True, she liked "East Lynne" and Hope Temple's songs, but it occurred to Richard that it might be pleasanter to listen even to these despised melodies than to remain solitary at Raphael Street or to accompany Jenkins on a _prowl_. Why should he not go down that afternoon to see Mr. Aked--and his niece? He immediately decided that he would do so. "It's turned out fine," said Jenkins. "What are you up to to-night? Will you come and have a turn round with me?" "Let me see.... The fact is, I can't." He fought desperately against the temptation to mention that he proposed to call on a lady, but in vain. Forth it must come. "I'm going to see a girl." "Aha!" exclaimed Jenkins, with a terribly arch look. "So that's the little game, eh! Who's the mash?" Richard smiled reticently. "Well, I'll be off." Jenkins rose, and his eye caught Richard's little bookcase; he scanned the titles of the volumes. "Oh! Likewise ah! Zola! Now we're getting at the secret. No wonder you're so damn studious. Zola, indeed! Well, so long. See you to-morrow. Give my love to the girl.... I say, I suppose you haven't got Zola in English, have you?" "No." "Never mind. So long." CHAPTER XII The little red-armed servant beamed an amiable recognition. "Very hot day!" Richard said. "Beg pardon, sir." "Very hot day," rather louder. They were in the passage. The door of the sitting-room opened, and Mr. Aked's niece stood before him, her finger on her lips and her eyebrows raised in a gesture of warning. She suddenly smiled, almost laughed. Richard remembered that smile for a long time afterwards. It transformed not only a girl's face, but the whole of Carteret Street. He had never seen anything like it. Shaking hands in silence, he followed her into the room, and she gently closed the door. "Uncle's not well," she explained. "He's asleep now, and I don't want you to wake him. In this house, you know, if any one speaks in the passage, you can hear it even in the attic. Uncle was caught in the rain last night; he has a very weak chest, and gets bronchitis directly." "I'm awfully sorry I disturbed you," said Richard. "The fact is I was down this way, and I thought I'd call." It sounded a sufficiently reasonable excuse, he considered. "I hope you weren't asleep too." "Yes, I was dozing in this chair." She put her head back, and drummed with her fingers lightly on the arms of the chair. "But I'm glad you've called." "Why?"