John Girdlestone had been by no means overjoyed upon the return of the Dimsdales from Edinburgh to learn that his ward had been thrown into the company of her young cousin.  He received her coldly and forbade her to visit Phillimore Gardens for some time to come.  He took occasion also to speak of Tom, and to assure her that he had received very serious accounts as to his spiritual state.  “He is addicted to all manner of debasing pursuits,” he remarked, “and it is my particular wish that you should avoid him.”  Learning that young Dimsdale was in London, he even took the precaution of telling off a confidential footman to walk behind her on all occasions, and to act either as an escort or as a sentry.

It chanced, however, that one day, a few weeks after her return, Kate found an opportunity of recovering her freedom.  The footman had been despatched upon some other duty, so she bethought herself that a book was to be bought and some lace to be matched, and several other important feminine duties to be fulfilled.  It happened, however, that as she walked sedately down Warwick Street, her eyes fell upon a very tall and square-shouldered young man, who was lounging in her direction, tapping his stick listlessly against the railings, as is the habit of idle men.  At this Kate forgot incontinently all about the book and the lace, while the tall youth ceased to tap the railings, and came striding towards her with long springy footsteps and a smiling face.

“Why Cousin Tom, who would have thought of meeting you here?” she exclaimed, when the first greetings had been exchanged.  “It is a most surprising thing.”

It is possible that the incident would not have struck her as so very astonishing after all, had she known that Tom had spent six hours a day for the last fortnight in blockading the entrances to Eccleston Square.

“Most remarkable!” said the young hypocrite.  “You see, I haven’t anything to do yet, so I walk about London a good deal.  It was a lucky chance that sent me in this direction.”

“And how is the doctor?” Kate asked eagerly.  “And Mrs. Dimsdale, how is she?  You must give my love to them both.”

“How is it that you have never been to see us?” Tom asked reproachfully.

“Mr. Girdlestone thinks that I have been too idle lately, and that I should stay at home.  I am afraid it will be some little time before I can steal away to Kensington.”

Tom consigned her guardian under his breath to a region warmer even than the scene of that gentleman’s commercial speculations.

“Which way are you going?” he asked.

“I was going to Victoria Street to change my book, and then to Ford Street.”

“What a strange thing!” the young man exclaimed; “I was going in that direction too.”  It seemed the more strange, as he was walking in the opposite direction when she met him.  Neither seemed inclined to make any comment upon the fact, so they walked on together.  “And you have not forgotten the days in Edinburgh yet?” Tom asked, after a long pause.