Gaddy came in while I was saying this, and patted me on the back. I told him that Mr. Wilting had not paid for my article, and Gaddy snorted, “The old swine, he wants a kick in the pants. He was too tight to turn in any copy and filled his space with your article.”

There was a letter from Big Ears which thickened that plot. He said that it would be the aim of his life to turn me to spiritual things. If I would marry him, to show his tender regard, when he brought me home, prayers would be discontinued until I expressed a wish for them to be resumed. Would I meet him in the morning to give him my answer. He said he would be praying for me all night. I thought, “‘Bust him,’ he ought to join the Salvation Army.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A GAME FOR TWO.

In the morning Mrs. Crasterton was again called to the telephone by Sir James Hobnob, who asked for me. “Dear me, poor old Sir James must be getting senile,” she remarked. “Old men can be very silly about young girls. You must exercise common sense, my dear.”

It was Mr. Hardy, chuckling. “Say, I’ve arranged for you to lunch with Mrs. Simms today, and we shall have all the afternoon together.”

He rang again in a few moments in propria persona and arranged the day with Mrs. Crasterton. She was busy otherwise, and content to let me go. I went with bubbles of anticipation inflating me.

Lunch with Mrs. Simms was mere morning tea, as that lady was overworked opening things like bazaars to aid poor babies or golf clubs for rich ladies, and she was glad to be done with me. She said she would see more of me at her house. Would I come tomorrow? She had a big family and many friends and constituents, and some of them were always at home. She lived at Burwood, and a tram would take me to her door. This meeting had been arranged by Mr. Simms and Mr. Hardy, and I was to be left at the publishers. Mrs. Simms said I would be wise to strike while the iron was hot.

Mr. Hardy was nearing the publishers as Mrs. Simms deposited me on the pavement, and he saluted her very politely. She was in a hurry, and away swung the cab. Mr. Hardy, without seeming to see me, eased me off into the crowd and strode along to his Aunt’s flat.

“Hooray!” he exclaimed when we were safely immured. “Another day free from the crowd.”

I said no word lest I should expose my inexperience. I was a scientist with her first case, terrifically interested and as clear-headed as a cucumber. Mr. Hardy was having lunch sent in, and was free until the evening.

“Dear me,” said he, sitting down and looking at me with his bright abashing gaze. “I’m back among the tall trees again with their bloom filling the world like heaven, when I look at you. To think I was once as eager and sensitive as you, ready to worship at the feet of the great! I wouldn’t give up an hour with you for a week with the best girls that Sydney can bring to the post.”