“Ah, well,” said Spanswick with an effort, “me and you can’t afford to quarrel. We’ve both got our axes to grind. Whereabouts is Pall Mall?” “You’re in it now. It runs up that way to the bottom of St. James’s Street.” “That’s the best of ’aving been a parcels carman,” sighed Spanswick enviously. “I was never anything but a goods man, and I never had no chances of getting amongst the aristocracy as you have. Otherwise I should meet you on equal terms. How’s the young woman?” “What young woman?” “Are there so many of ’em as all that? Seems to me,” remarked Spanswick thoughtfully, “that some of you lead a double life. You’ll come a cropper over it some day, mark my words.” “I’ll mark your face,” retorted Erb with a sudden burst of annoyance. “I’ve put up with just about enough from you. I may be your secretary, but I’m not your slave.” “Old man, don’t let’s go kicking up a common fracass here. You don’t understand my style of humour. This newspaper, or journal, or organ, or whatever you like to call it—how’s it going?” “Well,” said Erb, returning to good temper. “I find I’m having to do it pretty nigh all myself. There’s another column to do now before the first number’s ready.” “_I’m_ pretty ’andy with me pen,” remarked the other. “I don’t prefess to be a literary man, of course, but— I’ll send you in a few items of news.” “I shall be ever so much obliged to you. Make ’em smart and readable, mind.” “_I’ll_ make ’em smart,” said Spanswick. It seemed to Erb, on the day “The Carman” was to appear, that something special of a less selfish character than the dinner in Eaton Square should be arranged to mark the event. What he vaguely desired was to give an outing to Louisa—the short sister had become too weak to take public promenade, and the current young man had to shout to her of an evening, gripping the railings in Page’s Walk. Erb had some daring thought of inviting Rosalind, and taking them both up the river. This detail of the plan he accepted and rejected, and accepted and rejected again; meeting Rosalind herself one evening in the strenuous fight for trams on the Surrey side of Blackfriars Bridge, he, after protecting her in the struggle up the steps, and allowing himself in the carrying out of his duty to press the plump arm above the elbow, found himself in the mood of accepting the detail, and he submitted the proposal in a way meant to be deferential, which, however, came out quite brusque and defiant. “Ever been to Battersea Park?” he asked gruffly. Rosalind had never been to Battersea Park. “Care to go?” Rosalind was so busy that she feared— “I’m going to take Louisa.” In that case (with a flush that went partly over her face and then ran away), in that case Rosalind would be very pleased. “Must be Wednesday next,” said Erb shortly. Wednesday was rather an awkward day, because there was a pupil at half-past one, who came in her dinner hour, and another at three. “Put her off,” commanded Erb.