She looked startled, as she had done on first meeting him. “I’ve had to go down and see my mother, and I’ve been to Richmond to see my sister,” she answered rather shortly. “And you, have you been away yet?” “Yes, I was at Brighton last week.” “Brighton?” She glanced at him quickly. “I called upon Mrs. Davison, in the hope of seeing you, Miss Rachel,” said he boldly. “I had previously called at Lady Jennings’ house--” “So I heard,” cut in Miss Davison with a frown. “I was rather surprised to hear it.” Gerard, determined to go through with the business now that he had made the plunge, summoned all his courage, and said-- “I hope you were not angry with me for calling.” “Why did you do it?” asked Miss Davison sharply. Once more he gathered together all his courage, and replied more boldly than before, as he came a step nearer and put his hand on the side of the victoria. “I did it because I had been tantalized by one meeting with you, and I could not wait patiently till chance put me in the way of another. I therefore called, first on Lady Jennings and then at Mrs. Davison’s, in the hope of seeing you.” Miss Davison seemed alarmed, he thought, though she laughed lightly, and affected to be rather amused. “To look for such a busy, hardworked creature as I am, in any particular spot, is rather a hopeless task,” she said. “I have been so overworked lately that I have had to threaten to take a long holiday if I am not allowed a little more relaxation.” He hesitated and then said quickly-- “I suppose it’s asking too much to beg you to let me call at your studio and see these designs which have made so great a mark.” She smiled. “A great deal too much,” she said. “I never let anyone see me at my work. Indeed, having to get through it in a totally inadequate time, on account of social engagements I won’t and can’t give up, I couldn’t do it unless I made it a rule that I should be left uninterrupted. Even my own friends are not allowed to visit me in my professional den. I’m an advanced woman, you see, strong-minded, and all that,” she added lightly. “The mere feminine holder of a latch-key is a slave compared to me.” But Gerard, who saw that she kept looking at the draper’s shop in front of which the victoria was standing, as if anxious to get rid of him, was not going to take his dismissal until he had paved the way for the explanation which he was by this time determined that she should give him. “You are waiting for someone?” he asked. “Yes, for Lady Jennings. This is her carriage, not mine. She is buying something that ought to have been chosen and paid for in five minutes, but she has our sex’s proverbial inability to make up its mind.” “Shall I go and look for her, and tell her you’re tired of waiting?” “Oh no, I could scarcely permit that, since I got out of helping her by saying I was tired--as indeed I am--and that I should like the rest out here.”