"My dog-skin coat is very warm, Mrs. Gower; don't wait; I must speak to them," she said, in the greatest excitement, her eyes glistening, her color coming and going.
"But you will take cold, dear; get in beside me again until they come up."
"No, no, I beg; I wish to meet them alone," she whispered.
"On one condition; are they friends?"
"Yes; oh, yes, she is one of my best."
Mrs. Gower, seeing them almost close, wishing her an affectionate good-bye, bade the man drive on, and, as was natural, fell into a reverie over the strange occurrence happening to a girl of Miss Crew's remarkably reticent character. She seemed pleased, but so intensely excited, one could scarcely tell her real feelings. She thought, "But I sincerely hope it will be a bright incident for her to begin 1888 with; for a more truly pious, gentle, amiable girl I have never met."
On the driver drawing in his horses, to allow a gentlemanly-looking man to pass, who was crossing Bloor West, at the head of St. George street, Mrs. Gower waking from her reverie, sees Mr. Buckingham.
"The compliments of the season, Mrs. Gower," he said, lifting his hat.
"The same to you. Whither bound?"
"To Holmnest."