"So you are the messenger boy?" she said. "You are to take me to Daly's Theater."
"Yes, miss. So I heard."
"Let us go at once. We will take the horse cars at Sixth Avenue, and get out at Thirtieth Street."
Before she had finished they were already in the street.
"I must explain," she said, "that my uncle bought two tickets this morning and expected to accompany me, but an important engagement has prevented. I was resolved to go, and so I sent for a messenger. Perhaps you had better take the tickets."
"All right, Miss——."
"Gilbert. As you are to be my escort I will ask your name."
"Mark Mason."
"Shall I call you Mark, or Mr. Mason?" she asked with a roguish smile.
"I would rather you would call me Mark."