“Yes, of course.  That was the way you began, you know.  You’re awfully inferior to him.”

“Well, my dear, you’re not inferior to anybody.  You’ve got a cheek!  What’s he in danger of?”

“Of being found out.  He’s in love with a lady—­and it isn’t right—­and I’ve found him out.”

“That’ll be a look-out for me!” Mr. Mudge joked.  “You mean she has a husband?”

“Never mind what she has!  They’re in awful danger, but his is the worst, because he’s in danger from her too.”

“Like me from you—­the woman I love?  If he’s in the same funk as me—­”

“He’s in a worse one.  He’s not only afraid of the lady—­he’s afraid of other things.”

Mr. Mudge selected another chocolate-cream.  “Well, I’m only afraid of one!  But how in the world can you help this party?”

“I don’t know—­perhaps not at all.  But so long as there’s a chance—­”

“You won’t come away?”

“No, you’ve got to wait for me.”

Mr. Mudge enjoyed what was in his mouth.  “And what will he give you?”

“Give me?”

“If you do help him.”

“Nothing.  Nothing in all the wide world.”

“Then what will he give me?” Mr. Mudge enquired.  “I mean for waiting.”

The girl thought a moment; then she got up to walk.  “He never heard of you,” she replied.

“You haven’t mentioned me?”

“We never mention anything.  What I’ve told you is just what I’ve found out.”

Mr. Mudge, who had remained on the bench, looked up at her; she often preferred to be quiet when he proposed to walk, but now that he seemed to wish to sit she had a desire to move.  “But you haven’t told me what he has found out.”

She considered her lover.  “He’d never find you, my dear!”

Her lover, still on his seat, appealed to her in something of the attitude in which she had last left Captain Everard, but the impression was not the same.  “Then where do I come in?”

“You don’t come in at all.  That’s just the beauty of it!”—­and with this she turned to mingle with the multitude collected round the band.  Mr. Mudge presently overtook her and drew her arm into his own with a quiet force that expressed the serenity of possession; in consonance with which it was only when they parted for the night at her door that he referred again to what she had told him.

“Have you seen him since?”

“Since the night in the Park?  No, not once.”

“Oh, what a cad!” said Mr. Mudge.

CHAPTER XX