The foolish pair started at the sound, assumed a correct attitude with remarkable swiftness, and turning, recognised Jimmie. Tony Merewether, who was a fair youth, grew very red and looked sheepish; Aline awaited events demurely, with downcast eyes. Jimmie pushed his old Homburg hat to the back of his head, and in two or three strides confronted them. He tried to look fiercely at Tony. The young man drew himself up. “I have asked Aline to marry me, sir,” he said frankly. “I was going to speak to you about it.” “Good Lord!” said Jimmie, helplessly. “We can't marry just yet,” said Tony, “but I hope you will give your consent.” Jimmie looked from one to the other. “Why did n't you let me know of this state of things before?” “I have n't done anything underhand. I thought you guessed,” said Tony. “And you, Aline?” She stole a shy glance at him. “I was n't quite sure of it until just now,” she replied. And then she blushed furiously and ran to Jimmie's arms. “Oh, Jimmie dear, don't be cross!” “Cross, my child?” he said. The world of tender reproach in his tone touched her. The ready tears started. “You are an angel, Jimmie.” The hand that was on her shoulder patted it comfortingly. “No, dear, I am a blind elderly idiot. O Lord, Tony, I hope you feel infernally ashamed of yourself.” “As Tony says, we sha'n't be able to get married for a long, long time,” said Aline, by way of consolation, “so for years and years we'll go on in just the same way.” “I only ask you to consent to our engagement, sir,” said Tony, diplomatically. “I am quite willing to wait for Aline as long as you like.” The abandonment of Jimmie by Aline had been the subject of the last half-hour's discussion between the lovers. The thought of Jimmie alone and helpless appalled her. She was a horrid selfish wretch, she had informed Tony, for listening to a word he said. How could Jimmie live by himself? She shuddered at the dismal chaos of the studio, the gaping holes in his socks, the impossible meals, the fleecing of him by every plausible beggar in frock coat or rags, the empty treasury. He needed more care than a baby. She would marry Tony, some day, because her head was full of him, and because she had let him kiss her and had found a peculiar, dreamy happiness during the process, and because she could not conceive the possibility of marrying any one else. But she was more than content to leave the date indefinite. Perhaps, in the stretch of aeons between now and then, something would happen to release her from her responsibilities. She had made the position luminously clear to Mr. Merewether before she had consented to be foolish and walk about with her head on his shoulder. “No, until Jimmie gets properly suited,” she said, quickly following Tony's last remark.