"Thank you, Miss Bentley. May I give you a chair?" he asked.

"Thank you, I will sit here by the window." The window was some distance
from the fire, but as she sat down Margaret Elizabeth loosened her furs
as if she felt its heat.

The Candy Man waited, uncertain what course he should pursue.

"Please sit down, Mr. Reynolds. I should like to talk to you, now the
opportunity has so unexpectedly offered." She regarded him still
seriously, her hands clasped within her large muff. "I think you owe me
an explanation."

"I am not sure I understand." The Candy Man's heart was beating in an
absurd and disconcerting way, but he would keep his head and follow her
lead.

"Of course you are aware that you allowed me to talk to you that morning
in the park, in a--most unsuitable manner, without even----"

"How could I?" cried the Candy Man entreatingly. "I did not know."

"Did not know what?" demanded Miss Bentley sternly, as he hesitated.

"I thought perhaps--I was dreadfully lonely, you see, and I thought--it
was preposterous--but I hoped you--don't you see?--didn't mind talking
to an unknown Candy Man."

"Oh! was that it?" exclaimed Margaret Elizabeth in a tone difficult to
interpret. Did she think it preposterous, or not? It seemed to indicate