'Very good. Then I shall see you to-morrow night at one o'clock.'
'You will do nothing of the kind.'
'No, I shall not see you, because it will be dark; but you will be there. You will find the doors open, and everything as I have said. It is already late; I must go. Good-bye.'
She went, fluttering from him up the street at a gait which was half walk, half run. He stood looking after her, a little taken aback by the abruptness of her departure.
'That woman appears to have formed a high opinion of my character. She flatters me.'
CHAPTER VI
[MISS BROAD COMMANDS A SECOND TIME]
The next morning, although he was early at the rendezvous, Miss Broad was there before him. He saw her before she saw him--or thought he did--and, unperceived, as he fancied, stood and watched her. She was reading a book, sitting a little sideways, so that he saw her profile clearly. It was a brilliant morning, and she was attired for the sun. She had on a light grey silky dress, which was covered with flowers, and a huge hat, about a yard round, which matched the dress. He thought how nice she looked. Of a charm so delicate. Instinct with the essence of all things spiritual. He had been depressed as he had come through the park. The mere sight of her dispelled the clouds. The blood moved brisker through his veins. Seeing how engrossed she was by what she read, thinking to take her by surprise, he began to steal towards her across the grass--which he ought not to have done. Hardly had he stepped over the little iron fence than a stentorian voice bawled,--
'Come out of that!'
The invitation was addressed to him, as others, including Miss Broad, perceived as well as he did. It was a keeper's civil method of suggesting that he should keep off the grass, which, just there, was fenced about. He bowed to Miss Broad with a feeble smile, she merely nodding in return, without rising from her seat. As he advanced towards her along the proper gravel path, he was a little conscious that his approach had been robbed of dignity. She received him with an air which was a little frigid--still without rising--and beginning at once on a subject which he would have liked postponed.