'Is she alone?'
'Yes, sir.'
'If you'll be kind enough to tell me the way, I think I'll go and meet her.'
'And who shall I say called if you should miss her, and she comes back first?'
'Say her husband,' answered Litvinoff.
The woman gave him profuse directions, for which he thanked her with his usual empressement, and turned at the gate to raise his hat in farewell.
'My stars!' said Mrs Bowen, as she watched him out of sight, 'he's a real gentleman, and no mistake. Poor little Mrs Litvinoff,' she added, with a woman's instinctive interest in a romance, 'I hope they'll make it up and live happy ever after, that I do!'
Litvinoff walked along. His heart was lighter than it had been for many a long day. On these delicious fresh spring mornings—
When March makes sweet the weather
With daffodil, and starling,
And hours of fruitful breath,