He paused; there was the sound of steps coming down the road, and he had no wish to be overheard courting. Thus drawn back to real life, conscience pricked him, and he wondered if there was any danger of Mrs. Peters reappearing. In a panic he looked over his shoulder.... No! the lawn was deserted: he still had time. But when he turned to the hedge he was surprised to see his love with her head pushed right through the privet, scarlet from excitement. A hand, too, appeared, enjoining caution and silence. You must have recognized ere this that Brown, the odd-job man beneath the thrall of Mrs. Peters, was none other than Mr. Henry Brown, cab-proprietor, under different auspices. You will remember, then, the type of man he was but a few chapters ago, middle-aged, reserved, cautious and a little unenterprising. But you will not forget that love had made a change in his habits, outlook and elan. He was younger now, more alert, audacious and full of guile. So you must not be surprised that when he saw his lady beckoning, appealing to him to come closer, be careful, not talk, but observe--when he saw her head (and it was a very pretty head) framed in harmonious privet--when he saw this gift of fortune, you must not be surprised that he accepted it. He drew near and kissed her very quietly but very heartily. She, for some obscure reason wishing to remain unseen, did not dare to withdraw her head or box his ears. All she could do was to bite her lip and stamp her dainty heel, while she remained, ostrich-like, in the hedge. The footsteps passed, but before they began to grow fainter Henry Brown repeated the salutation. "Couldn't help it!" he said meekly, answering the sparkle in her eyes. "You shouldn't tempt a man. Now, what's the row?" She was too excited to rebuke him; the moment was too precious to be lost. "You see him?" she queried, pointing to the retreating figure of Lionel, who was on the road to The Quiet House. "Well, that is the man you are to watch! That is he from whom you are to recover the document!" "The deuce it is!" said Henry, gazing after Lionel with interest. "Well, he's big enough to give trouble...." "You are not afraid?" "Not particularly," he said with a slow smile. "It's not a job I hanker after, but I've promised you to try, and I will try. You'll tell me, I dare say, what you think the best way of setting about it?" "Of course. You are far too stupid to think for yourself. And now, good-by!" "I say, you're not going! And I had such a lot to talk about ... that wedding, for instance...." "What wedding?" She paused, chin in air. "Come! that's a good 'un. Ours." "Pstt! the assurance of these male creatures!--As if I would marry a man who kisses me by force! No, Mr. Brown, do not count on that. Do what you have promised first, and then I will think about it. If I choose, well ... If I do not choose, well ... I promise nothing." "That's a poor sort of bargain."