"Mr. Fischer!" she exclaimed. "Why, how on earth did you catch this steamer? I thought you were coming on the Thursday boat?"
"Some inducement to change my mind," Mr. Fischer replied, drawing a chair up to her side.
"Meaning me?"
"I guess that's so!"
"Of course, I'm exceedingly flattered," Pamela observed, "or rather I should be if I believed you, but I don't see how you could leave a supper-party at Henry's and go straight to Tilbury."
"Say, how did you know I was supping at Henry's?" he inquired.
"Because I was there for luncheon myself, as you know," she answered carelessly, "and I heard you order your table for supper."
Mr. Fischer nodded reminiscently.
"I always wind up with a little supper at Henry's, on my last night in London," he remarked. "It left me two hours to get down to Tilbury, but it don't take me long to start for anywhere when I once make up my mind. That's the American of us, I suppose. Besides, I never need much in the way of luggage. I keep clothes over on the other side and clothes in New York, and a grip always ready packed for a journey."
"You're so typical," she murmured, smiling.