"What have I done that you should doubt it?" the young man asked with
delight.

Miss Fancourt turned instantly to St. George, who had now joined them,
and announced triumphantly: "He's coming on Sunday--this next Sunday!"

"Ah my day--my day too!" said the famous novelist, laughing, to their
companion.

"Yes, but not yours only. You shall meet in Manchester Square; you shall
talk--you shall be wonderful!"

"We don't meet often enough," St. George allowed, shaking hands with his
disciple. "Too many things--ah too many things! But we must make it up
in the country in September. You won't forget you've promised me that?"

"Why he's coming on the twenty-fifth--you'll see him then," said the
girl.

"On the twenty-fifth?" St. George asked vaguely.

"We dine with you; I hope you haven't forgotten. He's dining out that
day," she added gaily to Paul.

"Oh bless me, yes--that's charming! And you're coming? My wife didn't
tell me," St. George said to him. "Too many things--too many things!" he
repeated.

"Too many people--too many people!" Paul exclaimed, giving ground before
the penetration of an elbow.