He did not reply, but hailed a four-wheeler that was passing.
"Oh, Gerald, why did you do that? I do dislike these dirty growlers," she said.
"You won't get a decent hansom in this God-forsaken part of the world. Better take this now."
"Very well, I suppose we must."
"And may I sit beside the driver?" said Dicky. "I should like to awfully."
"Oh, I don't know, dear. I am afraid of your catching cold."
"No fear of that," replied Gerald. "It's quite warm, and he's well wrapped up. Jump in, Hilda."
He helped her in, and confided Dicky to the care of the cabby. The boy's proposition suited him in every way. Indeed, it had been an essential part of his plan. As for Hilda, she had a very shrewd idea of what she might expect. It is only fair to her to say that she hesitated—but the eloquent appeal from those blue eyes of Gerald's had been too much for her. She was surprised at herself now, for her heart was beating as she had never known it beat before.
"I wish you could get a hansom," she said; "we shall be hours getting home in this."
"And would that be so very terrible?" he asked. "It would not have been once, Hilda."