‘I’m not going to be away more than a day or two,’ she said, smoothing a fold in her dress.

’If it was only an hour or two I couldn’t bear to think you’d altogether forgotten me.’

‘Why, of course I shan’t!’

’But—­Miss Mutimer, I’m abusing confidence.  Your brother trusts me; he’s done me a good many kindnesses.  But I can’t help it, upon my soul.  If you betray me, I’m done for.  You won’t do that?  I put myself in your power, and you’re too good to hurt a fly.’

‘What do you mean, Mr. Keene?’ Alice asked, inwardly pleased, yet feeling uncomfortable.

’I can’t go away to-night without saying it, and ten to one it means I shall never see you again.  You know what I mean.  Well, harm me as you like; I’d rather be harmed by you than done good to by any one else.  I’ve got so far, there’s no going back.  Do you think some day you could—­do you think you could?’

Alice dropped her eyes and shook her pretty head slowly.

‘I can’t give any promise of that kind,’ she replied under her breath.

‘You hate me?  I’m a disagreeable beast to you?  I’m a low—­’

’Oh dear, don’t say such things, Mr. Keene!  The idea!  I don’t dislike you a bit; but of course that’s a different thing—­’

He held out his hand sadly, dashing the other over his eyes.

’Good-bye, I don’t think I can come again.  I’ve abused confidence.  When your brother hears of it—.  But no matter, I’m only a—­a sort of crossing-sweeper in your eyes.’

Alice’s laugh rang merrily.

’What things you do call yourself!  Now, don’t go off like that, Mr. Keene.  To begin with, my brother won’t hear anything about it—­’

’You mean that?  You are so noble, so forgiving?  Pooh, as if I didn’t know you were!  Upon my soul, I’d run from here to South Kensington, like the ragamuffins after the cabs with luggage, only just to get a smile from you.  Oh, Miss Mutimer—­oh!’

’Mr. Keene, I can’t say yes, and I don’t like to be so unkind to you as to say no.  You’ll let that do for the present, won’t you?’

’Bless your bright eyes, of course I will!  If I don’t love you for your own sake, I’m the wretchedest turnip-snatcher in London.  Good-bye, Princess!’

‘Who taught you to call me that?’

‘Taught me?  It was only a word that came naturally to my lips.’

Curiously, this was quite true.  It impressed Alice Maud, and she thought of Mr. Keene for at least five minutes continuously after his departure.

She was extravagantly gay as they drove in a four-wheeled cab to the station next morning.  Mr. Keene made no advances.  He sat respectfully on the seat opposite her, with a travelling bag on his knees, and sighed occasionally.  When she had secured her seat in the railway carriage he brought her sandwiches, buns, and sweetmeats enough for a voyage to New York.  Alice waved her hand to him as the train moved away.