"Are you doing anything particular to-night?" he asked. She turned round; he was smiling at her in an open but friendly amusement. "No," she murmured. "I'm going back home, I suppose." "To Blent?" he asked quickly. "No, to our house. Mina's there and----" Her face was puzzled; she left her sentence unfinished. "Well, I've got nothing to do. Let's have dinner and go somewhere together?" Their eyes met. Gradually Cecily's lightened into a sparkle as her lips bent and her white teeth showed a little. She was almost laughing outright as she answered readily, without so much as a show of hesitation or a hint of surprise, "Yes." Nothing else can be so ample as a monosyllable is sometimes. If it had been Harry's object to escape from a tragic or sensational situation he had achieved it triumphantly. The question was no longer who should have Blent, but where they should have dinner. Nothing in his manner showed that he had risked and succeeded in a hazardous experiment; he had brought her down to the level of common-sense--that is, to his own view of things; incidentally he had secured what he hoped would prove a very pleasant evening. Finally he meant to have one more word with her on the matter of her visit before they parted. His plan was very clear in his head. By the end of the evening she would have forgotten the exalted mood which had led her into absurdity; she would listen to a few wise and weighty words--such as he would have at command. Then the ludicrous episode would be over and done with forever; to its likeness, superficially at least rather strong, to that other scene in which he had been chief actor his mind did not advert. A very pleasant evening it proved; so that it prolonged itself, naturally as it were and without express arrangement, beyond dinner and the play, and embraced in its many hours a little supper and a long drive in a cab to those distant regions where Cecily's house was situated. There was no more talk of Blent; there was some of Harry's new life, its features and its plans; there was a good deal about nothing in particular; and there was not much of any sort as they drove along in the cab at one o'clock in the morning. But Harry's purpose was not forgotten. He bade the cabman wait and followed Cecily into the house. He looked round it with lively interest and curiosity. "So this is where you came from!" he exclaimed with a compassionate smile. "You do want something to make up for this!" She laughed as she took off her hat and sank into a chair. "Yes, this is--home," she said. "Have you had a pleasant evening?" he demanded. "You know I have." "Are you feeling friendly to me?" Now came the attitude; she threw herself into it and smiled. "That's what I wanted," he went on. "Now I can say what I have to say."