"If you knew sometimes how miserable I feel after I've behaved badly to you--how I cry myself to sleep sometimes, thinking about it--you wouldn't think so badly of me," she said. "But, my darling, I don't think badly of you. Don't I tell you that everything you do is right?" "Oh, if you will only always think that; if you will be content with me just as I am; if you will remember only all my good days and forget all the bad ones!" "But there are no bad days," he replied generously. "Indeed, I have nothing to forgive or to forget. How could I have? Why, it just shows what a wonderful little woman you are, that you could run out here again to-night and say all this to me just because you thought that you'd been unkind to me. And you hadn't been unkind at all. There, good-night, and don't cry yourself to sleep, will you?" They parted happily enough, and he watched her as she ran back to the house. Turning slowly at last, with lingering feet he passed out of the garden. As he reached the road a man brushed close against him and glanced up sharply into his face in the darkness, then passed on. Comethup, with a muttered word of apology, went his way. In a few moments, however, he had an uncomfortable sensation that the man was following him--keeping well out of sight in the shadows of doorways, but still doggedly following. The young man stopped once or twice, and the man immediately stopped too and disappeared; when Comethup went on again the man's step could be distinctly heard behind. At last, with a growing feeling of anger, Comethup swung round and quickly retraced his steps; the movement was so sudden that the man was taken by surprise and stopped falteringly, evidently not quite knowing what to do. He was an old man, much bent about the shoulders--apparently not from age, but rather as a result of heavy labour of some kind. Comethup stared at him for a moment, and then, as the man glanced up again at him and made a movement to get past him, Comethup knew him; it was old Medmer Theed. His anger died away, and he held out his hand to the old man. "Why, Theed," he exclaimed, "I couldn't make out who on earth was dodging along behind me; I had no idea it was you. How are you?" "I am well, I thank you," replied the old man a little distrustfully. "You are out late, sir." "Oh, we don't call this late in London," said Comethup with a laugh. "Besides, if I'm not mistaken, you know why I'm out late. Didn't I see you five minutes ago, as I came out from Miss Vernier's?" "Yes, you did," said the old man, chopping his words off sharply. "I'd just been to see her home, you know," said Comethup. "I suppose you don't see as much of her now--not as much as you used to do? Don't you remember how she used to sit on the bench beside you in your shop when she was quite a little thing?"