"Oh, never mind, thanks, we shall find it; they say it's quite near. But it's too dark to make out the names." It was also too dark to make out her features, but her voice was delicious, and if the fog didn't flatter her, she was dowered with the eyes that he most ardently admired. He was all at once sensible of a keen interest in the whereabouts of the greengrocer's. "That seems to be a shop at the corner; I'll go over and see what it is!" he said promptly. But it was a general dealer's, and he came back not displeased. "Bother! We _must_ find it!" cried the first girl. "May I come and help you?" he asked. "Oh, you can come if you like," she said; and added as a pure concession to formality, "It's awf'ly kind of you." So they all proceeded through the fog. "It's such a nuisance everything being shut to-day," the first girl went on. "That's why we want Gandy's--they say Gandy's live there, and might oblige us. We can ring 'em up." "Fruit?" he inquired. "No," she said; "flowers--violets. We want some for the concert to-night. Are you going?" "Certainly I am," said Conrad. "What concert? I haven't heard about it?" "Oh well, it was only settled this morning. We're giving a concert at the Victoria Hall--_The Little Miss Kiss-and-Tell_ Company. It's to help us all. Mr. Quisby--our manager--only let me know just now. I'm going to sing a 'flower-song,' and I want some 'button-holes' to throw among the Audience; I can't do the song without." "Throw one to me," said Conrad. "I will," she promised. "We ought to get some people in, as it's bank holiday, don't you think so? And if the show 'goes,' we can have the hall again to-morrow. The tickets are only sixpence and a shilling. Did you see us on the pier?" "No," he said, "I wasn't here then--I was just too late. How many tickets can you let me have?" "Oh, you'll get them at the door! we haven't got any. You'll really come, won't you?" "I'll come if I miss my dinner to get there," he vowed. "Where _is_ Victoria Hall?" "It's--I don't know the name of the street. It's near the station. Anybody'll tell you. We begin at eight o'clock." This was all very well, but the Girl of the Voice had not spoken again, and he wished she would say something. "Shall I hear you sing, too?" he asked, looking across at her. He looked across at her just as they approached a lamp-post, and his most sanguine hopes were realised. He found her adorable. "No, _I_ am not in the programme," said Rosalind. "Here's a policeman!" cried Miss Lascelles. "Can you tell us where Gandy's the greengrocer's is?" she begged again. The constable did not know, and, official though useless, took a long time to say so. More intelligently he remarked that it was "Nasty weather for Boxing-day," and Conrad gave him a half-crown. The next instant they deciphered the name of "Gandy" themselves.