By this time Lionel was in a very good humor with himself. Warned by his recent heroism and virtue, flattered by the interest shown in him by this delightful creature, he was prepared for anything. "I never ask a woman for a reason," he said, smiling. "I have the most complete faith." "How old are you?" she asked; and when he answered "Twenty-seven," she laughed. They drove in silence for a space; presently she asked what time it was. He put his hand to his pocket and then withdrew it. She had observed the action--"Your pocket has been picked?" "No," he said frankly. "As a matter of fact, I pawned my watch a week ago." "Then you are poor!" she cried impulsively. "Oh! I beg your pardon,--I did not mean----" Lionel was never disconcerted by his lack of means, and the chuckle was perfectly honest as he replied, "Distinctly poor. I am glad to think I can still create an illusion of wealth in an artificial light, but really I am worth very little." "You do not mind?" she said, her eyes dancing. "I admit," he said, "that I should prefer to be well off. But, being poor, I see no use in making myself unhappy. I should prefer to pay half a guinea for a stall rather than a shilling for the gallery. Still, I contrive pretty tolerably to enjoy the play." "You are a philosopher," she approved. "A poor man can't afford to be anything else." After a pause she said, "It must be getting late. Will you please tell the man to drive to the Macready Theater?--the stage-door." He opened the window, smiling to himself. "An actress!" he thought; "the young man's dream of an adventure! This is absurdly conventional." After directing the chauffeur, he sat back, wondering what the end would be, content to wait on fortune. The lady, too, did not speak again until they had almost reached their destination. Then she took a purse from her satchel and said with friendly good-humor, "This is my frolic, and I wish to pay for it. Please!" Lionel was too well-bred to interpose bourgeois objections. Besides, it was a case of necessity: his sixpence-ha'penny had been burning a hole in his pocket for the last ten minutes. "Fair lady," he said lightly, "I would if I could, but I can not. Five shillings will be more than enough." She gave him half a sovereign, and he wished he had been a street arab to whom she could have said, "And keep the change." This, however, was clearly impossible, nor did it appear to enter the lady's head. After he had paid the man she received the balance with a careless gravity. He raised his hat. "You are not going?" she asked in surprise. "Unless I can be of further service." "But that is why I have brought you here! You have not heard my reason yet, and you must--at least in justice to myself. This is only the beginning: you can be of the greatest service if you will. Come!"