"How do, Deleah?" Kitty Miller had again the privilege of seeing how beautifully the hat came off, exposing for quite an appreciable time the young man's fair, smooth head. "Whoa, Nance!" to the satin-skinned, black mare, who objected to being pulled into the gutter running by the side of the pavement. "I say--there was something I particularly wanted to say to you, Deleah. Whoa! Steady, old girl! I say--how's Bessie?" "Bessie is very well, thank you, Mr. Forcus." "'Mr. Forcus?' Come, I say, Deleah! you aren't going to put me at arm's length, that fashion! I was going to ask you--How is Bessie?" "Very well, thank you." "I haven't seen Bessie for ages." "Is it so long?" "I was wondering if I might look in sometimes on Mrs. Day--" "Mama is always busy, thank you." "At your place, then?--Just to see--Bessie?" "I'm sure I don't know. You'd better ask Bessie herself." "I'll ask her when I call. Whoa! Steady, you fool! Steady! What time could I come when I shouldn't be in the way?" "We're always busy. Always. I think perhaps you'd better not come at all." "Thank you! Why?" "You used to come, if you remember; and you gave up coming," Deleah said. The small face turned to him was unsmiling and proud. The clear eyes of pale hazel looked past the fine young man on the beautiful fidgeting horse. "I'm more my own master now," he said. "I should like to look in upon you all again, Deleah." "You had better not. Good-bye." "Wait! Wait! One minute! I say, are you going to this concert to-night?" "Of course. All of us. Even Franky. Half-guinea places. Why need you ask?" "But if I get you some tickets? You and Bessie and Mrs. Day? I will, you know. I will, Deleah, if you'll say you'll go--" "The tickets were all sold a fortnight ago. You're too late," she said; and then she smiled her winning smile, in spite of herself, upon him and moved on. Kitty was waiting for the older girl a few paces farther on. "There!" she said, her eyes wide with awe. "There, Miss Day! My wish nearly came true! Oh, if he could have got you tickets and you would have gone, how heavenly, heavenly everything would have been to-night!" Tea was ready in the sitting-room above the shop when Deleah reached home. Tea with thick bread-and-butter, dry toast, water-cress, little dishes of sliced ham, and pastry-tarts made in Emily's best fashion; and Bessie and Franky were already seated at the table. By Deleah's plate a letter was lying. A letter at which she looked dubiously, shrinking a little from opening it; for it was addressed, in a fashion which had become embarrassingly familiar to her, in carefully printed characters. "It's money, this time, we think," Franky cried, jumping in his chair. "Make haste, Deda." "We're simply dying to know what he's sent you. How slow you are!" Bessie scolded. Reluctantly Deleah broke the envelope and drew forth two tickets for the evening's concert. "The ten-shilling places!" Bessie cried. "We'll go, Deleah. We'll go!"