Although the professional people whose duties required their attendance in town were beginning to come back, and bringing with them, of course, their wives and families, the majority of Madame Clarisse's more happily placed-customers yet remained in their country houses, and there was still very little business doing at the establishment in George Street. There were frequently times in the day when Daisy had nothing to do, and she would take advantage of her leisure to go out and get a breath of the bleak autumnal air. Madame Clarisse never objected to these little excursions; indeed, encouraged them. For on her return from France, she had noticed that her favourite Fanfan's cheeks were looking very pale, and that her manner was listless and dispirited, and that she plainly wanted a change. Madame was at first disposed to insist on Fanfan's going away for a time to the country or the seaside, and recruiting herself amid fresh scenes. But a communication which she received about that period altered her views; and she consequently contented herself by giving her assistant as many hours' leisure as she conveniently could, taking care that this leisure was fragmentary, and never to be enjoyed for longer than one afternoon at a time. Daisy had an odd delight, when thus enabled to absent herself from her duties, in visiting the old spot in Kensington Gardens, which had been the scene of her walks with Paul. They had selected it on account of its seclusion, but now there were fewer people there than ever; it was too damp and cold any longer to be used as a place of recreation by the children who formerly frequented it for its quietude and its shade; and an occasional workman hurrying across the Park, or a keeper, finding his occupation gone in the absence of the boys, gazing wearily down the long vistas at the end of which the thick white fog was already beginning to steam, were the only human creatures whom Daisy encountered. She was astonished, therefore, one day on arriving at the end of the well-known avenue, and turning to retrace her steps, to find herself face to face with a gentleman who must evidently have made his approach under cover of the trees, and who was close to her before she had heard his footfall. She recognised him in an instant--Colonel Orpington. "I must ask your pardon for intruding on you, Miss Stafford," said the Colonel, raising his hat, "and more especially for having come upon you so suddenly, and caused, as I am afraid I see by your startled looks, some annoyance; but though I have never had the pleasure of a personal introduction, we have met before, and I believe you know who I am." His manner was perfectly easy and gentlemanly, but thoroughly respectful withal; and though, as he had noticed, Daisy's first impulse was to turn aside and leave him without a word, a moment's reflection caused her to bow and say: "I believe I recognise Colonel Orpington."