“Well, I hope you won’t disapprove, for I have to plead guilty to being Sir Edwin Crathie.” “Sir Edwin Crathie?” in abashed tones. “They called me Squib at school.” He said it in a whimsical, humorous voice, looking down at her with very friendly eyes. But Hal had grown silent. “I’m afraid by your manner you do disapprove?” “It is certainly embarrassing. I would rather you had been… well, just any one.” “You’ll get used to it,” still with the twinkle in his eyes. “In the meantime you haven’t answered my question. When will you come for another ride?” She did not reply, and he leaned a little closer. “You will come again?” “I’m afraid Brother Dudley wouldn’t like it”; and then they both laughed. “Will you come in?” as they drew up before her door. “I’m afraid I haven’t time; and besides, I’m a little afraid of Brother Dudley. I only feel equal to the Prime Minister this evening.” She held out her hand. “Well, thank you ever so much. You saved me from a dreadfully tight corner.” “The thanks should be all mine; you saved me from unmitigated boredom. I cursed my chauffeur for going down with ‘flu’ today, but now I feel ready to raise his salary for it.” He had pulled of his thick motoring-glove, and was holding her hand in a firm, lingering clasp, which she quickly cut short, tucking both her hands into her ulster pockets, and standing up very straight and slim in the lamplight. “I’ll have to go though the confessional now,” she told him, “and sit on the stool of repentance for supper.” “No; don’t repent; come again.” He moved nearer. “I’m naturally a very busy man, and I can’t make engagements offhand, but I can easily get at you on the telephone. Will you come some afternoon, about half-past four?” “I think you are very rash. How do you know I shall not bring the colours, and wave them wildly down the street, shouting ‘Votes for Women’?” “I’ll risk it. Will you come?” She moved away, latch-key in hand. “I don’t know. I won’t promise, anyway. Good-bye, and my best thanks.” There was a rush of light through an open door, a last bright smile, and he found himself alone in the street. CHAPTER XIII When Hal entered the sitting-room and met Dudley’s eyes she felt, as she afterwards described it to Lorraine, that she was in for it. Yet it was not so very late, barely half-past nine. On the table her supper was still waiting for her. “We’ve had a slight accident,” she said, taking the bully by the horns; “something went wrong with the steering gear, and it delayed us. Have you had supper?” noticing the table was still laid for two. “I always have supper at eight on Sundays, because Mrs. White has to clear it away herself, as you know. Isn’t Dick coming in?” “No. He’s—” Hall stopped short, considering the advantages of prevarication. “I wanted to see him,” testily. “He said he would give me a particular address tonight. Why is he in such a hurry?” “It wasn’t Dick who brought me.”