It was not the tribute that was paid to my parentage by the respectful manner in which the words were uttered that pleased me so much as the equality that both the words and the way in which they were spoken seemed in some indefinable manner to establish between us. It seemed to me to be the most deliciously delicate and pointed way of saying, "Then you are a gentleman, and my equal." I could have thanked her more for the few words that had escaped her than if she had given me ten times the money that was in her purse. However, I merely acknowledged her last remark, which was spoken rather to herself than to me, by saying-- "Yes, madam." We had nearly got to the corner of Cavendish Square by this time. There was another momentary pause, and then she startled me by saying in a perfectly easy and unconstrained manner: "Pardon me for asking you another question. You must for the present give me credit for not being actuated by any idle or impertinent motive. Are you married, or, if not, is there any one that you at present think of marrying?" "No, madam," I answered, "I am not, and I have not any thought of being married." She paused for a moment, and I was beginning to wonder what would come next, when she asked abruptly: "At what time will you be disengaged this evening?" I use the word "abruptly" to denote the suddenness and precision with which the question was put, for her manner was too refined and self-possessed to be characterized as abrupt in the usual sense of that word. "We leave business at a little after eight," I replied. "Then you could be at York Place, Baker Street, at nine--or say half-past nine?" she said. "Yes, madam," I answered, "I could easily be there by half-past nine." "Then would you call at No. 41 York Place at half-past nine to-night?" "Certainly, madam." "Now one word," she said. "Ask for Miss Grey when the door is opened. But do not tell any one about this interview. You will see to-night why you ought not to do so in your own interest. In the meantime keep your own counsel. You will promise me that?" "Certainly, madam." "You remember the address--or had you not better take it down?" "Not at all, madam; the address is No. 41 York Place; Baker Street." "Then I shall expect you at half-past nine o'clock. Good-bye." She bowed, and, turning round the corner of Cavendish Place, walked quickly toward Regent Street.