"It is rather a hard and unpleasant life I should imagine." "Perhaps so--but you know beggars cannot be choosers; but I must not bore you any longer with my foolish history." "On the contrary I am deeply interested--and you say you have no friends at all in London?" "None!" she replied with a forlorn sigh that went to his heart. After a pause he spoke again in earnest tones. "I wish you would allow me to become a friend. I think it would be very foolish of us to separate to-day without arranging any plans about meeting again. We have already agreed that conventionality ought sometimes to be dispensed with. Here surely is a very good case in point. I should like exceedingly to see you again; I should be very sorry if we did not continue this friendship. Have you any objection?" "Of course not. I should very much like it," she replied looking at once into his eyes. "The idea is charming to me. Ah! if you knew how terrible it is to have no friend, no one to confide in, you would feel for me I know." "I find my own life a little lonely too sometimes," he said, "I am a barrister--" "A barrister!" she interrupted. "Ah! I have long wished to know a barrister. I have always thought they must be such clever men." "Well, I suppose we are quite up to the other professions. But now I think, as we have settled that we are to be friends, it is not worth our while to delay about it. Let us imagine we have been friends quite a long time--and will you do me the honour of dining with me to-night?" "Dine with you!" she exclaimed, as if startled by the idea. "Yes--why not? It will enable us to learn more of each other. We will dine at a restaurant, and if you like we will go to a theatre afterwards." She only hesitated a moment, then replied, "You are very kind--you don't know what a treat you are proposing to me. I have been so very dull of late--No!" she cried joyfully, "I cannot refuse you. The prospect is too delightful." They passed an exceedingly pleasant evening together. When the play was over he put her in a cab and they separated. She would not tell him where she lived, but gave him an address at a stationer's shop to which he might write; and also made an appointment to meet him on the following day. He walked home aflame with a passion which he fondly believed was love. He considered that he had fallen into a very lucky adventure. Knowing well the weakness of his own character, he argued with himself that it would be an excellent thing for him to be fond of a really nice little woman like this. An intrigue of this kind would keep him straight. It had always been one of his maxims that to have a mistress was a grand thing for a man; it settled him, and preserved him from dissipation. It was perhaps a rather wild thing to hope to find salvation in such a union as the one he contemplated; nevertheless it has happened to many men of his nature to be regenerated by a mistress.