'All right, Jane! I'll walk on with you,' was the reply. And whilst
the other two men were laughing good-naturedly, Kirkwood strode away
by the girl's side. He seemed to be absent-minded, and for some
hundred yards' distance was silent; then he stopped of a sudden and
looked down at his companion.

'Why, Jane,' he said, 'you'll get your death, running about in
weather like this.' He touched her dress. 'I thought so; you're wet
through.'

There followed an inarticulate growl, and immediately he stripped
off his short overcoat.

'Here, put this on, right over your head. Do as I tell you, child!'

He seemed impatient to-night. Wasn't he going to talk with her as
before? Jane felt her heart sinking. With her hunger for kind and
gentle words, she thought nothing of the character of the night, and
that Sidney Kirkwood might reasonably be anxious to get over the
ground as quickly as possible.

'How is Mrs. Hewett?' Sidney asked, when they were walking on again.
'Still poorly, eh? And the baby?'

Then he was again mute. Jane had something she wished to say to
him--wished very much indeed, yet she felt it would have been
difficult even if he had encouraged her. As he kept silence and
walked so quickly, speech on her part was utterly forbidden.
Kirkwood, however, suddenly remembered that his strides were
disproportionate to the child's steps. She was an odd figure thus