the cordial grip of his hand as he accompanied the other to the door.

On the threshold Wallace turned irresolutely. 'It will be a risk next
Sunday,' he said; 'I'm determined it shan't be anything more. She is not
the woman, I think, to make a quarrel out of a thing like that.'

'Oh no,' said Kendal; 'keep your courage up. I think it may be managed.
You give me leave to handle _Elvira_ as I like.'

'Oh heavens, yes!' said Wallace; 'get me out of the scrape any way you
can, and I'll bless you for ever. What a brute I am never to have asked
after your work! Does it get on?'

'As much as any work can in London just now. I must take it away with me
somewhere into the country next month. It doesn't like dinner-parties.'

'Like me,' said Wallace, with a shrug.

'Nonsense!' said Kendal; 'you're made for them. Good-night.'

'Good-night. It's awfully good of you.'

'What? Wait till it's well over!'

Wallace ran down the stairs and was gone. Kendal walked back slowly into
his room and stood meditating. It seemed to him that Wallace did not
quite realise the magnificence of his self-devotion. 'For, after all,
it's an awkward business,' he said to himself, shaking his head over his
own temerity. 'How I am to come round a girl as frank, as direct, as
unconventional as that, I don't quite know! But she ought not to have