started the novel at last."

"Tell me about it," she begged, with sparkling eyes.

"Presently," he answered, "Eat your fish now, please. Over our coffee I
will tell you the first chapter. And what excuse have you for wearing a
new frock to dazzle the eyes of a lonely bachelor with?"

"Like it?" she asked, turning round on her chair towards him.

"Immensely."

"I made it myself," she said, continuing her dinner, "all since last
Thursday, too."

"Wonderful," he exclaimed, looking at her once more with admiration.
"You must be worn out. Let me fill your glass."

"Oh, I rather like dressmaking," she said. "Joan's disapprobation was
much more trying."

"And how is she?"

"Better, I believe, and inclined to be more sensible," she answered
cheerfully. "She has given up those horrid walks, and is thinking about
taking a situation. I can't tell you how grateful I am."

"So am I," he answered fervently.

They avoided, by mutual though unspoken consent, any further reference