"You are going to take that dog out on a day like this! I cannot allow it! Think of its feet when it comes in!" Nell found that she had to moisten her dry lips; she took a moment or two to choke back unexpectedly rude words. She said then in an even tone:— "I’ll carry her upstairs, Aunt Kezia." "But when it gets there! The carpet! Ruining my carpet!" "I’ll put her on her rug till she’s dry." "Microbes!" Miss Kezia said. There was a little, pregnant silence. Nell’s face had grown suddenly hot; she felt she dared not trust her tongue to speak again; she was shaken with longing to be very rude to Miss Kezia. Miss Kezia hesitated, then she said:— "Very well. And make her _stay_ on her rug, and you had better not go far; the fog is deepening again." Nell went out into the street. At the corner she met Ted. "You? Where are the others?" he asked innocently, showing faint surprise. "At Madame Tussaud’s. Good-bye," she said. "Where are you off to, Nell?" "A walk—-a long walk—" Something prompted her to add, "just me and Kate Kearney." "You needn’t be afraid that I shall offer my escort. Am I allowed to suggest that it’s beginning to sleet, and that the fog is getting thicker?" The deadly politeness of his tone afforded her a small satisfaction. "You may suggest what you like," she assured him, "only—do you mind suggesting it to the lamp-post? It’s cold standing here." "Oh, certainly. I’ve never come to embracing a lamp-post yet, but I daresay it’s better to talk to than some people are!" The grand sweep with which he raised his hat, and the dignified sarcasm of his tone, lifted the words above mere childishness. Nell walked on down Gardiner Street. The fact that she could not help feeling that it would be comfortable to have Ted’s sturdy figure beside her irritated her. She felt a touch on her arm. Through the yellowing fog Ted smiled at her. "I say, Nell, I can’t stand it! You’d be on my conscience. You know you don’t know your way about a bit, and if the fog comes down—" She began to smile warmly. "Since Denis has deserted you," cheerfully he blundered, "you’ll let me order you about, eh?" The "eh" held a suddenly surprised inflection, brought about by the change in her face. "You’re downright impertinent!" she stormed. "Do go away! How can you thrust yourself where you’re not wanted?" She hurried on, leaving silence behind her. The lamps were alight; they shone pale and blurred through the fog. The lights from the shops made little pathways of misty light across the pavement. It was very raw, the air was bitter, wet, laden with sleet. She had not brought an umbrella with her; she was so unused to umbrellas. She turned up the collar of her coat, and valiantly suppressed a shiver. Kate Kearney trotted dejectedly at her heels.