was recognizing, respectful, interrogative,--a bow that asked "How much
farther?" But Mrs. Haughton's bow respondent seemed to declare, "Not at
all!" The stranger did not venture more that day; but a day or two
afterwards he came again into Gloucester Place on foot. On that occasion
Mrs. Haughton was with her son, and the gentleman would not seem to
perceive her. The next day he returned; she was then alone, and just as
she gained her door, he advanced. "I beg you ten thousand pardons,
madam; but if I am rightly informed, I have the honour to address Mrs.
Charles Haughton!"

The lady bowed in surprise.

"Ah, madam, your lamented husband was one of my most particular friends."

"You don't say so!" cried Mrs. Haughton. And looking more attentively
at the stranger, there was in his dress and appearance something that she
thought very stylish; a particular friend of Charles Haughton's was sure
to be stylish, to be a man of the first water. And she loved the poor
Captain's memory; her heart warmed to any "particular friend of his."

"Yes," resumed the gentleman, noting the advantage he had gained, "though
I was considerably his junior, we were great cronies; excuse that
familiar expression; in the Hussars together--"

"The Captain was not in the Hussars, sir; he was in the Guards."

"Of course he was; but I was saying--in the Hussars, together with the
Guards, there were some very fine fellows; very fine; he was one of them.
I could not resist paying my respects to the widowed lady of so fine a
fellow. I know it is a liberty, ma'am, but 't is my way. People who