Given a steady brain and some little athletic skill, the feat was easy enough. All that was needed was to cling to two greasy iron uprights and slide from one floor to the next, where cross-bars marked the different stories and provided halting-places for the lift. It was typical of Van Hupfeldt that he had the nerve to essay this means of escape and the cunning to think of it. David was looking into the well of the building a hundred feet below, when an electric bell jarred over his head. Some one was at the front door. It was a porter. "You are wanted down-stairs, sir," said he, his honest face all of a grin. "Down-stairs?" repeated David, puzzled. "Yes, sir. There's a hansom waitin', sir." "Oh," said David, wondering what he had left in his cab. He went down, hatless, and not a word said Jim, though he watched David out of the corner of his eye, and smiled broadly when he saw David's sudden recognition of Violet through the side-window of the hansom. She, too, smiled delightedly when David appeared. "I want you to come with me for a little drive," she said; "but not without a hat. That would be odd." David, casting off three months' cobwebs in a second, was equal to the emergency. Somehow, the damask of Violet's flushed cheeks banished the dull tints in his. "Jim," he said, "here's my key. Bring me a hat--any old hat--first you can grab." Then he climbed into the vacant seat by her side. "Do you know," he said, "I was nearly going to Rigsworth to-day?" "I only know," she replied, "that you were to write to me, and I have had no letter." "Don't put me on my self-defense, or I shan't care tuppence if you are worth ten thousand or ten millions a year," he said. Violet leaned over the door. "That man is a long time going for your hat," she said. "By the way, can you spare the time to drive with me to Kensal Green? And then I am to take you to Porchester Gardens, where mother expects you to dine with us, _en famille_, so you need not return here." She was a little breathless, and spoke in a fluster. Jim arrived, with the missing head-gear. The driver whipped up his horse, and David's left arm went round Violet's waist. She bent forward, astonished, with a sidelong glance of questioning. "It is a reasonable precaution," said David. "If the horse goes down, you don't fall out." Violet laughed and blushed prettily. A bus-driver, eying them, jerked his head at the cabman. "All right, the lydy," he said, and the cabman winked. But the two inside knew nothing of this ribaldry. So, you see, David simply couldn't help himself, or rather, from another point of view, he did help himself to a remarkably charming wife and a considerable fortune.