fluttered about her lips. She did not feel very well, but that was a
matter of course; the ride in an omnibus would perhaps make her head
clearer.

Monica's face was of a recognized type of prettiness; a pure oval;
from the smooth forehead to the dimpled little chin all its lines
were soft and graceful. Her lack of colour, by heightening the
effect of black eyebrows and darkly lustrous eyes, gave her at
present a more spiritual cast than her character justified; but a
thoughtful firmness was native to her lips, and no possibility of
smirk or simper lurked in the attractive features. The slim figure
was well fitted in a costume of pale blue, cheap but becoming; a
modest little hat rested on her black hair; her gloves and her
sunshade completed the dainty picture.

An omnibus would be met in Kennington Park Road. On her way thither,
in a quiet cross-street, she was overtaken by a young man who had
left the house of business a moment after her, and had followed at a
short distance timidly. A young man of unhealthy countenance, with a
red pimple on the side of his nose, but not otherwise ill-looking.
He was clad with propriety--stove-pipe hat, diagonal frockcoat,
grey trousers, and he walked with a springy gait.

'Miss Madden--'

He had ventured, with perturbation in his face, to overtake, Monica.
She stopped.

'What is it, Mr. Bullivant?'