"Oh!" He swung round, peering into her face--at first not remembering her. Then something in her bright glance reminded him. "So it is you, is it? Hurrying home to get ready to dance again to-night, I suppose?" He spoke indifferently, disinclined for adventure in the chill, damp atmosphere of this late afternoon. Still he went on, being by nature somewhat expansive. "Is Miss Wilson at home this afternoon, do you know?" then fell into step by Caroline's side without thinking of it. "Yes. Were you wanting to see her?" said Caroline; but underneath, she was saying to herself: "If I'd done what Aunt Creddle wanted, and been a servant out and out, I should never have walked with Mr. Wilson like this." She felt consciously proud of being a "business girl"--one of the great company that had every evening free, and could wear low necks and powder their faces. But there was more than that in it---- Wilson glanced sideways at her, vaguely satisfied with the lightness of her step by his side and the look of her lips and eyes through the mist. His interest was beginning to wake again. "I am going to the Cottage with some tickets for that Garden Fete for the Hospital which Miss Ethel and Miss Temple are helping to get up." "Oh, can I take them?" said Caroline. "No, thank you. I have a message from Miss Temple to deliver as well," he answered. There was practically no one to be seen on the road--only a few distant objects moving in the mist--and it would have been awkward for either of them to leave the other, so they settled down to walk all the way to the Cottage together. She spoke abruptly, nervously. "I'm leaving soon, you know. I'm going into an office. I can type, but I can't do shorthand. Still, I aren't afraid of work. If only I could get a bit more practice I should be a very quick typist--the teacher says so." He walked on, saying nothing, and she thought she had offended him--no doubt he feared she was going to ask him to give her a job. She flushed crimson and added quickly: "I shall find a job all right. A friend of mine is looking round for me." He turned to her, smiling, and his tone was slightly more familiar than it would have been to a girl of his ordinary acquaintance. "I see. The friend I saw you with at the dance. Well, I hope he'll find what you want." "I have no doubt he will, thank you," said Caroline. Wilson was silent for a few minutes. "Look here," he said, "I think we have a spare machine at the office that I could lend you for a time to practise on. You must have practice." Then he waited complacently for her to swing round towards him--as she did--her eyes and voice filled with surprised gratitude: for he was getting on well in the world himself, and he liked sometimes to feel what a good-hearted fellow he was, in spite of it. "Oh, that's all right," he said. "But I am sorry you have to leave Miss Wilson."