intended; she felt something of the recklessness which formerly
excited her wonder when she remarked it in the other shop-girls. She
could no longer be without a male companion, and as she had given
her promise to this man--

He had seen her, and was coming forward. Today he carried a
walking-stick, and wore gloves; otherwise his appearance was the
same as at Richmond. At the distance of a few yards he raised his
hat, not very gracefully. Monica did not offer her hand, nor did
Widdowson seem to expect it. But he gave proof of an intense
pleasure in the meeting; his sallow cheeks grew warm, and in the
many wrinkles about his eyes played a singular smile, good-natured
but anxious, apprehensive.

'I am so glad you were able to come,' he said in a low voice,
bending towards her.

'It has been even finer than last Sunday,' was Monica's rather vague
reply, as she glanced at some people who were passing.

'Yes, a wonderful day. But I only left home an hour ago. Shall we
walk this way?'

They went along the path by the river. Widdowson exhibited none of
the artifices of gallantry practised by men who are in the habit of
picking up an acquaintance with shop-girls. His smile did not
return; an extreme sobriety characterized his manner and speech; for
the most part he kept his eyes on the ground, and when silent he had
the look of one who inwardly debates a grave question.