"I'd much rather walk. I love to walk." I must know why she was meeting Tom without her mother's knowledge. "I'll send the car home and we'll walk together. It isn't often I have an afternoon without something that must be done in it. I'll wait here while you get your hat and coat." Into the girl's face came flush that spread slowly to the temples, and uncertainly she looked at me. Steadily my eyes held hers and after half a moment she turned and went out of the room. Coming back, she followed me into the hall and to the elevator, but, eyes on the gloves she was fastening, she said nothing until we reached the street. On the corner opposite us Tom Cressy was standing in the doorway of a cigar-shop, and as he saw the car dismissed, saw us cross the street and come toward him, into his honest, if not handsome, face came puzzled incredulity. Not until in front of him did I give evidence of seeing him; then I stopped. "Why, Tom Cressy!" I held out my hand and, as he took it, I noticed the one holding his hat was not entirely steady. "It's ages since I've seen you, Tom. You know Miss Swink, I believe." I pretended not to see their formal and somewhat frightened bow. "We're going to walk. Can't you go with us? Come on. We're going to the park." Slipping my arm through Madeleine's, I caught step, and on the other side of her Tom did likewise, hands in his pockets, and into both faces came glow that illuminated them and enlightened me. At the end of our walk I would know pretty well what I wanted to know. For an hour and a half we walked briskly and talked along lines usually self-revealing; and by the time the hotel was again reached I was quite satisfied concerning a complicated situation that needed skilful steering to avoid a dangerous and disastrous smash-up. "Can't I go home with you, Miss Dandridge?" Tom twisted his hat nervously. "It's too late for you to go so far by yourself. Please let me go with you." "Of course you're going with me. After dark I'm only a baby person and I like a nice, big man with me! Good-by, dear." I turned to Madeleine. "Some afternoon, if your mother does not mind, come down and have tea with me in Scarborough Square. Tom can come, too, and bring you home. I'll telephone you one day next week." With a nod I walked away, but not before I saw a flash of joy pass between two faces which were raised to each other, and, guiltily, I wondered if I had again done something I shouldn't. I was always doing it. Hurrying on with Tom, I talked of many things, but at my door I turned to him and held out my hand. "I haven't any right to ask you, but I'm going to ask you. You care for each other and something is the matter. What is it, Tom?"