We found Dolly standing under the piazza of Covent Garden market. She made no movement toward us until we were close upon her, and then she greeted us with a shy wriggle and a little blush. She was very daintily dressed, with a fur tippet about her throat, and looked as pretty as a young Hebe. “Oh,” she said, “I didn’t suppose you would come, too, Mr. Trender.” “There!” I cried to Duke, with perfect good nature. “I told you I should be in the way.” “Nonsense!” he said. “Miss Mellison didn’t mean it like that, did you, Dolly?” “Didn’t I? You see how he answers for me, Mr. Trender?” And she turned half from him with a rosy pout. “Come!” I cried gayly. “I’ll risk it. I do not believe you’ve the heart to be cruel, Miss Mellison.” “Thank you for the surname, and also for telling me I’m heartless.” “You can’t be that as long as mine goes a-begging,” I said, impudently. She peeped up at me roguishly from under her long lashes and shook her head. “Come,” said Duke, impatiently; “what are we going to do? Don’t let’s stand chattering here all day.” “I’ll tell you,” I cried in a sudden reckless flush of extravagance. “Aren’t there pretty places on the Thames one can get to from here?” “Oh, plenty,” said Duke, dryly, “if one goes by train.” “Then let’s go and make a pleasant water party of it.” He shook his head with a set of the lips. “Those are rare treats,” he said. “Our sort can’t afford such jinks except after a deal of saving.” “I don’t want you to,” said I. “It’s my business and you’re to come as my guests.” “Oh, nonsense,” he said, sharply; “we can’t do that.” “Please speak for yourself, Mr. Straw,” said Dolly. I had noticed her eyes shine at the mere prospect. “If Mr. Trender is so kind as to offer, and can afford it, I’m sure, I, for one, don’t intend to disappoint him.” “Can he afford it?” said Duke, doggedly. “I shouldn’t propose it if I couldn’t,” said I, very much on the high horse. “Of course you wouldn’t,” said Dolly. “I wonder at you, Mr. Straw, for being so insulting.” “Very well,” said Duke, “I meant it for the best; but let’s be off. I’m for a shallop in Arcady, with Pleasure in a pork-pie hat (it’s very pretty, Dolly) at the helm.” We went down to Richmond by train, and Duke--good fellow that he was--made a merry company of us. If he felt any soreness over his rebuff he hid it out of sight most effectually. It was early in November--a beautiful, sparkling morning, and the river bore a fairish sprinkling of pleasure craft on its silvery stretches. We were neither of us great oarsmen and at first made but poor way, owing to a tendency Duke of the iron sinews showed to pulling me completely round. But presently we got into a more presentable swing and fore-reached even upon a skiff or two whose occupants had treated us to some good-humored chaff upon our starting. “Woa!” cried Duke. “This pulling is harder than pulling proofs, Renny. Let’s stop by the bank and rest a bit.”