“Oh, my dear, give that old joke a rest,” urged the most frequent user of “the old joke,” Miss Smith, flushing anew with interest, “and tell us who HE is! This is something quite new, Miss Trant, isn’t it? Doesn’t she look conscious, girls? Didn’t I know that hat meant something? How exciting! I’m _so_ glad, dear; but, do tell us! Not his name, of course——” For in the code of these girls, it’s not fair to ask for names. “—but just his _Christian_ name!” “William,” I admitted, smiling as “coyly” as I could. “William! Sounds a bit—stand-offish,” objected Miss Holt. “D’you call him ‘_Billy_,’ by any chance?” “Never,” I said solemnly, “not by any chance.” “Of course not. ‘Billy’s’ no class,” said Miss Robinson. “‘William? Ahem! _William!_’” in a pompous bass voice. “Dark or fair, Miss Trant?” “Fair.” “M’m. Well, I suppose Miss Trant _would_ pick a fair one, her being such a reel brunette,” commented Miss Holt, “but as for me, I never could take to a fair man. Puts me in mind of weak tea. About as fair ’s the Governor, Miss Trant?” “Ye-es; just about.” “Anything for a bit of a change,” said Miss Robinson satirically. “I should have thought you’d have liked another colour to sit opposite to at lunch, after having to have the same sort of thing staring you in the face all the afternoon. However!—no accounting for ’em!... I hope he’s tall, though?” “Over six foot, I should think.” “Ah! Well grown, William! Is the young gentleman in the City, may I ask?” “Yes, he is.” “Isn’t she a good sort, answering all our impertinent questions like this! One more, Miss Trant, and we won’t bother you. Where are you going to meet him?” I don’t think she expected that I _would_ answer this. But I said quite frankly, “I am to meet him just outside the front entrance in Leadenhall Street.” And I whisked out of the room to the lift. I didn’t tell the girls “Look out of that window on the other side of the landing and you’ll see him.” I knew it wasn’t necessary. In two minutes’ time I was being helped into a taxi by the august hand of our Governor himself. I lifted my head and looked straight up at the landing window. Yes, there they were, all three of them, flattening their noses against the pane. I nodded and smiled with bravado. My three colleagues were too utterly taken by surprise to even smile back at me. The expression on their three faces was even more pronounced than as I had foreseen it. Miss Holt was standing in front, and as we drove away I saw her eyebrows rise to her netted hair, while her mouth dropped open. I could almost _hear_ the gasp that came from it, of: “_Girls!_ Did you _ever_? She really _is_!—with Still Waters! Well! What _ever_ next?” CHAPTER V THE FIRST LUNCH TOGETHER “To the Carlton,” ordered Mr. Waters; and off we drove.