He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help wondering how it must sound to the patient little crowd outside. She drank her glass of wine, however, and clanked glasses good-naturedly with Mr. Earles.
“You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go.
She wrote it down. He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no remark.
“I shall probably want you to come down to the ‘Unusual’ to-morrow morning,” he said. “Bring any new songs you may have.”
Anna nodded, and Mr. Earles attended her obsequiously to the door. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. It was a brief solitude, however. A young man, who had been spending the last hour walking up and down on the opposite side of the way, came quickly over to her. She looked up, and recognized Mr. Brendon.
Chapter XIII
“HE WILL NOT FORGET!”
The external changes in Brendon following on his alteration of fortune were sufficiently noticeable. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. Not only that, but he carried himself erect—the slight slouch which had bent his shoulders had altogether disappeared. He came to her at once, and turning, walked by her side.