"You seem startled at the change in me," she said abruptly. "Do you know that I positively adore clothes, though I've only just found it out. The first thing I did when I got here was to go over to Brighton, and spend terrific sums at a dressmaker's. You see, there wasn't time in London. You don't despise me for it, I hope? I've plenty of money--enough to last a long, long time." She was dazzling, and she openly rejoiced in the effect her appearance had made on Richard. "You couldn't have done better," he answered, suddenly discovering with chagrin that his own serge suit was worn and shabby. "I'm relieved," she said; "I was afraid my friend might think me vain and extravagant." Her manner of saying "my friend"--half mockery, half deference--gave Richard intense satisfaction. They walked to the end of the jetty and sat down on a stone seat. "Isn't it beautiful?" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "What--the town, or the people, or the sea?" "Everything. I've scarcely been to the seaside before in all my life, and I think it's lovely." "The sea would be splendid if one could see it, but it blinds one even to glance at it in this heat." "You shall have half my sunshade." She put it over him with a protective gesture. "No, no," he demurred. "I say yes. Why don't men carry sunshades? It's only their pride that stops them.... So you don't like the town and the people?" "Well--" "I love to see plenty of people about. And you would, too, if you'd been fixed like me. I've never seen a real crowd. There are crushes when you go into theatres, sometimes, aren't there?" "Yes. Women faint." "But I shouldn't. I would have given anything not long ago to be in one of those crushes. Now, of course, I can just please myself. When we are back in London, do you think I could persuade you to take me?" "You might," he said, "if you asked nicely. But young ladies who wear clothes like yours don't usually patronise the pit, where the crushes are. Stalls or dress circle would be more in your style. I propose we take the dress circle. You wouldn't enjoy your crush going in, but at the Lyceum and some other theatres, there is quite a superior crush coming out of the stalls and dress circle." "Yes, that is better. And I shall buy more clothes. Oh! I will be shockingly wasteful. If poor old uncle knew how his money was to be spent--" A little child, chased by one still less, fell down flat in front of them, and began to cry. Adeline picked it up, losing her sunshade, and kissed both children. Then she took a paper of chocolates from her pocket and gave several to each child, and they ran away without saying thank you.