“There are other places,” she went on.  “There is a sweet little green-and-white place like a dairy in Oxford Street, that calls itself the ‘Hyacinth,’ which is sacred to ladies and to gentlemen properly chaperoned.  If you would invite me to dine with you there I should like it very much.”

“Anywhere,” he said.  He accepted her proposal to dine at the “Hyacinth” with the same unquestioning pleasure which he would have had in accepting her proposal to dine at the top of the Monument that evening; but he felt an under perplexity at its terms, which was vaguely disturbing.  How could it possibly matter?  Did she suppose that she advanced palpably nearer to the proprieties in dining with him in one place rather than the other?  There was an unreasonableness about that which irritated him.

He felt it more distinctly when she proposed taking an omnibus instead of the cab he had signalled.  “Oh, of course, if you prefer it,” he said; and there was almost a trace of injured feeling in his voice.  It was so much easier to talk in a cab.

He lost his apprehensions presently, for it became obvious to him that this was only a mood, coming, as he said to himself devoutly, from the Lord knew what combination of circumstances—­he would think that out afterward—­but making Elfrida none the less agreeable while it lasted.  Under its influence she kept away from all the matters she was fondest of discussing with that extraordinary candor and startling equity of hers, and talked to him with a pretty cleverness, about commonplaces of sorts arising out of the day’s news, the shops, the weather.  She treated them all with a gaiety that made her face a fascinating study while she talked, and pointed them, as it were, with all the little poises and expressions and reserves which are commonly a feminine result of considerable social training.  Kendal, entering into her whim, inwardly compared her with an acknowledged successful girl of the season with whom he had sat out two dances the night before in Eaton Square, to the successful girl’s disadvantage.  Finding something lacking in that, he came upon a better analogy in a young married lady of the diplomatic circle, who had lately been dipping the third finger of her left hand into politics with the effect of considerably increasing her note.  This struck him as satisfactory, and he enjoyed finding completion for his parallel wherever her words and gestures offered it.  He took her at the wish she implied, and eddied with her around the pool which some counter-current of her nature had made for the hour in its stream, pleasantly enough.  He made one attempt, as Elfrida unbuttoned her gloves at their little table at the “Hyacinth,” to get her to talk about her work for the Age.

“Please, please don’t mention that,” she said.  “It is too revolting.  You don’t know how it makes me suffer.”

A moment later she returned to it of her own accord, however.  “It is absurd to try to exact pledges from people,” she said, “but I should really be happier —­much happier—­if you would promise me something.”