She would let him settle everything to-night, then would tell him.

These winter nights were troublesome to an unfortunate pair who wished to talk in a leisurely way together, yet had no shelter save that of a place of public entertainment, or an archway under the line.  And to-night it was particularly cold; there had even fallen a little snow.  Totty and Ackroyd met, as usual, at the end of Paradise Street.  It being Sunday, they could not go to the music-hall, and it was really impossible to stand about in the open air.

‘Look here, Totty,’ said Ackroyd, ’you must come into the house.  You needn’t see any one, unless you like.  We can have the sitting-room to ourselves.  The others always sit downstairs.’

Totty hesitated, but at length assented.  If the truth were known, her two hundred and fifty pounds had probably something to do with her yielding on this point.  At present she could face Mrs. Poole on equal terms.

So they entered the house, and Luke, having left his companion in the parlour, went down to apprise his sister.  Jane came up, and gave the girl a civil greeting.  It was not cordial, nor did Totty affect warmth of feeling.  Mrs. Poole speedily left the two to themselves.

Totty sat in her chair rather stiffly.  She was not accustomed to take her ease in rooms even as well appointed as this.  Luke tried to be merry, to show that be was delighted, to be affectionate; he did not succeed very well.  Presently they were sitting at a little distance from each other, each waiting for the other to speak.

‘When is it to be?’ Ackroyd said at length, bending forward.

‘I don’t know.  Is it really to be?’

‘Why not?  Of course it is.’

Totty had felt colder to him than ever before, since she had entered this room.  The strangeness of the surroundings affected her disagreeably.  She wished they had walked about in the snowy streets.

‘Of course you know we shall always be quarrelling,’ she said, with a laugh.

’No, we shan’t.  It’ll be different then.  At all event, it’ll be your fault if we do.’

Silence came again.

‘What day?’ Luke asked.

‘When you like, If you really mean it.’

’Now what’s the use of talking in that way?  Why shouldn’t I mean it?’

‘If I ask you a question will you answer me honest?’

She was leaning forward, with a touch of colour on her cheeks, and a sudden curious light in her eyes; she seemed ashamed at something, and both eager and reluctant.

‘What is it?  Yes, I’ll answer you the truth.’

’The very truth?  No, I shan’t ask you.  What day do you want it to be?’

’Nonsense!  What was the question?  I won’t listen to anything till you’ve told me.’

’It was a silly question.  I don’t really want to ask you.  I forget what it was.’

Totty was strangely unlike herself, hesitating, diffident, ashamed.  He insisted; she refused to speak.  He got vexed, turned mute.