Just because he fervently desired not to meet anybody he knew, as he turned a corner he almost ran into the arms of May Burnside; who, on seeing him, appeared confused. He stopped and tried to conceal his parcel as well as he could, whilst talking volubly; and May stammered and fidgeted, like one detected in a guilty enterprise. Her aunt had that day presented her with half-a-crown; and, wishing to make a frock for Doris, she was on her way to buy some wonderful material she had seen marked fourpence three-farthings in a cheap, common shop she would not have cared to enter by daylight. Miss Waller would have fainted at the idea of her niece being seen going into Whittaker's, where everything was ticketed "Alarming Sacrifice!" So, the boots weighing on his uneasy conscience, and the fourpence three-farthings on hers, they continued to blush and stammer until Harold summoned up courage to say that it was rather late, and, if Mrs. Burnside was going home, he would escort her, if she wished. She hesitated, loth to lose the chance of bargain, and then said-- "My aunt is dining out, so I need not hurry back; and I wanted to go to a shop--Whittaker's, do you know it? I buy rubbish there occasionally." He did know the shop, which was close to the alley wherein dwelt his old cobbler. "If you don't mind," he said eagerly, "I'll leave you a moment, whilst I do an errand hard by, and meet you when you've done your shopping." So he went off, delighted at solving the problem of the boots; for no man appears to advantage when hugging a clumsy parcel. Having duly effected her purchase, May rejoined him, and, as they strolled towards Victoria Square, informed him that they were starting for London on Monday. "I know I shall hate it!" she added, with a sigh. He sighed too; but what could he say or do, bound as he was, hand and foot? "July _is_ rather hot for London," he answered discreetly. "Lulu wrote yesterday, and may I suggest, if you have leisure, she would be delighted if you called to see her? I will give you her address. The flat is very tiny, of course, but----" "But infinitely preferable, I am sure, to Victoria Square!" retorted May bitterly. The burden of life seemed intolerable that evening. "Are you, then, so unhappy there?" he asked, startled. "How I wish----" He checked himself hastily, and May stifled a sob which rose in her throat. "Very few people are quite happy, it seems to me," she said, trying to speak calmly. "There is always something." "Yes, but you--_you_ ought to be happy, if there were any justice in the world!" he burst out impetuously. "You deserve a sunny, sheltered life, free from worry and care. Will you believe it is the hardest of my trials to be able to offer you nothing but barren sympathy?"