"How is it that you have never been to see us?" Tom asked reproachfully.
"Mr. Girdlestone thinks that I have been too idle lately, and that I should stay at home. I am afraid it will be some little time before I can steal away to Kensington."
Tom consigned her guardian under his breath to a region warmer even than the scene of that gentleman's commercial speculations.
"Which way are you going?" he asked.
"I was going to Victoria Street to change my book, and then to Ford Street."
"What a strange thing!" the young man exclaimed; "I was going in that direction too." It seemed the more strange, as he was walking in the opposite direction when she met him. Neither seemed inclined to make any comment upon the fact, so they walked on together. "And you have not forgotten the days in Edinburgh yet?" Tom asked, after a long pause.
"No, indeed," his companion answered with enthusiasm. "I shall never forget them as long as I live."
"Nor I," said Tom earnestly. "You remember the day we had at the Pentlands?"
"And the drive round Arthur's Seat."
"And the time that we all went to Roslin and saw the chapel."