But, taking a broad view of youth, he forbore to rebuke the young man, and turned the conversation upon certain points in the recently delivered lecture. When he reached his turning he shook hands and disappeared. Goddard looked at his watch, and gave a little whistle of dismay. An omnibus from the west lumbered up. Goddard climbed on to the roof, and returned down the High Street. At the “Golden Stag,” where the ’bus route ended, he descended, and proceeded almost at a run down some side streets and lanes, and eventually knocked at a door in a row of workmen’s cottages. “Well, you _are_ late,” said a girl who opened the door to him. “I’ve been waiting with my ’at on for the last three-quarters of an hour. No; you ain’t going to kiss me. If you’d wanted to do that, you’d have found your way here before.” “I’ve come as fast as I could, Lizzie,” said the young man, somewhat out of breath. “But I went back part of the way with Mr. Gleam, who wanted to speak to me.” “That’s all very fine,” said Lizzie. “But I think I count for something.” She led the way into a little front room, where a couple of girls were busy with dressmaking. One of them was bending over a sewing-machine. Bits of stuff and patterns littered the table. A few spotted fashion-plates adorned the walls. The air was heavy with the smell of new mercery. “Here’s Dan at last!” said Lizzie. “It’s only a case of how d’ye do and good-bye. These are my two cousins. This one’s Emily, and that’s Sophie. Oh, look at the clock! It _is_ a shaime!” Goddard shook hands with the two cousins of his affianced--pale, anemic girls, who giggled a little, while Lizzie saw to the straightness of her hat in the gilt mirror over the mantelpiece. When that was done, she admired herself for a moment. She was pretty--with the devil’s prettiness; fluffy fair hair, a pink complexion and small, watery blue eyes--a poetic but discarded admirer had termed them “liquid azure,” which had pleased her mightily. Her mouth had a ripe way of pouting that took the edge off tart speeches, at any-rate in a lover’s opinion, but otherwise it was loose and devoid of character. “I can’t let him stop to talk,” she said, turning to her cousins. “Father’ll be in an awful stew. I’ll bring him round another day.” “If he’ll come,” said Emily, the elder of the two. “Oh, of course I will,” said Goddard. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.” He was feeling, somewhat abashed amid these feminine surroundings, and laughed awkwardly. When the door closed behind Lizzie and himself he was relieved. “I hope you are not vexed with me, Lizzie,” he said humbly. “I really did not know it was so late.” “It’s no use talking about it,” said Lizzie in an injured tone. “But just let me keep you waiting, and see how you’d like it.” However, after a time, Lizzie was mollified, and in token thereof drew Daniel’s arm, correctly loverwise, within her own.