exclaimed in surprise, not without some jealousresentment rising within me. "Why are you friendly towards him?"
"Because it is judicious not to offend him," she said. "One girl did,and within a week she was discharged."
"But such truckling to a greasy, oily-mouthed tailor's dummy is simplynauseating," I cried fiercely. "Do you mean to say that you actuallyhave to smile and be amiable to this man--perhaps even to flirt withhim--in order to save yourself from being driven to death?"
"Certainly!" she answered, quite frankly.
"And who is this man?" I inquired, perhaps a trifle harshly.
"The man with whom you saw me on that night when you followed me fromAldersgate Street," she responded.
"That tall, thin man!" I cried, amazed. "The man who was your lover!"
She nodded, and her eyes were again downcast.
I sat staring at her in amazement. I had never thought of that.
"What's his name?" I asked quickly.
"Henry Hibbert."
"And he is shop-walker at your place?"
"Certainly."
"Why didn't you tell me this before, when I asked you?" I inquired.
"Because I had no desire that you should sneer at me for walking outwith a man of that kind," she responded. "But now that it is all past,I can fearlessly tell you the truth."
"But what made you take up with him?" I asked, eager now to at leastpenetrate some portion of the mystery, for I recollected that night inthe Park, when I had overheard this man Hibbert's strange conversationwith Aline.
"I really don't know what caused me to entertain any regard for him,"she answered.
"How did it come about?"
"We were introduced one night in the Monico. I somehow thought himpleasant and well-mannered, and, I don't know how it was, but I foundmyself thinking always of him. We met several times, but then I did notknow what he was. I had no idea that he was a shop-walker. It wasbecause of my foolish infatuation, I suppose, that I cast aside yourlove. But from that moment my regret increased, until I could bear theseparation no longer, and I came to-night to seek your forgiveness."
"But what knowledge of this man had you before that night in the cafe?"I inquired. "Who introduced you?"
"A girl friend. I knew nothing of him before, and have since come tothe conclusion that she knew him but slightly."
"Then was he, at this time, engaged in the shop in the Holloway Road?"I asked, feeling that this fact should be at once cleared up.
"I think so."
"Are you absolutely certain?"
"No, I'm not. Why do you ask?"
"Because," I answered reflectively, "because it is strange that youshould have taken an engagement at the very shop where he was employed."
"It was he who gave me the introduction there," she said. "Only when Igot there and commenced work did I find to my surprise that the man whohad interested himself on my behalf was actually the shop-walker. Hesaw the look of surprise upon my face, and laughed heartily over it."
"Did you never seek to inquire how long previously he had been employedthere?"
"No. It never occurred to me to do so," she answered.
"But you can discover now easily enough, I suppose?"
"Of course I can," she replied. "But why are you so anxious to know?"
"I have a reason for desiring to know the exact date on which he enteredthe firm's employ," I said. "You will find it out for me at once, won'tyou?"
"If you wish."
"Then let me know by letter as soon as you possibly can," I urgedquickly.
"But you need not be jealous of him, Clifton," she said, seeking toreassure me. With her woman's quick instinct she saw that my anger hadbeen raised against him.
"How can I help being annoyed?" I said. "The facts seem quite plainthat he first took service with this firm, and then most probablyobtained the dismissal of one of the girls in order to make a vacancyfor you. He was in love with you, I suppose," I added, rather harshly.
"Love was never mentioned between us," she declared. "We merely wentout and about together, and in business he used to chat and joke withme. But as for love--"
And she laughed scornfully, without concluding her sentence.
"And the other girls were jealous of you--eh?"
She laughed.
"I suppose they were," she answered.
"Was this man--Hibbert was his name?--an experienced shop-walker?"
"I think so," she replied. "But he was disliked on account of hisharshness and his constant fining of everybody."
"Except you."
"Yes," she laughed. "I generally managed to escape."
She noticed the hard look in my face, as I pondered over the strangefact. That this man who was such an intimate acquaintance of Aline'swas actually shop-walker where Muriel was employed added to the mysteryconsiderably, rather than decreasing it.
"Why need we discuss him now?" she asked. "It is all over."
"But your acquaintance with this man who has evidently striven to winyour love must still continue if you remain where you are," I said in atone of annoyance.
"No," she replied. "It is already at an end."
"But he's your shop-walker. If you have refused to go out with him, infuture he'll undoubtedly vent his spiteful wrath upon you."
"Oh no, he won't," she laughed.
"Why?"
"Because he has left."
"Left!" I echoed. "Of course you know where he is?"
"No, I don't," she replied. "He annoyed me in business by speakingharshly to me before a customer, and I told him plainly that I wouldnever again go out in his company. He apologised, but I was obdurate,and I have never seen him since. He went away that night, and has notreturned. His place was filled up to-day. At first it was thought thathe might have stolen something; but nothing has been missed, and now hissudden departure is believed to be due to his natural impetuousness andeccentricity."
"Then it would seem that owing to a disagreement with you he left hisemployment. That's really very remarkable!" I said.
"Yes. Everybody thinks it strange, but, of course, they don't know thatwe quarrelled."
"And you swear to me that you have never loved him, Muriel?" I asked,looking straight into her upturned face.
"I swear to you, Clifton," she answered. "I swear that he has neveronce kissed me, nor has he uttered a word of affection. We were merelyfriends."
"Then that makes the aspect of affairs even more puzzling," I observed."That he had some motive for leaving secretly there is no doubt. What,I wonder, could it have been?"
"I don't know, and it really doesn't trouble me," she replied. "I wasexceedingly glad when he went, and now am doubly glad that I came andsought your forgiveness."
"And I too, dearest," I said, holding her hand tenderly in mine. "But,truth to tell, I have no confidence in that man. There was somethingabout him that I didn't like, and this latest move has increased mysuspicion."
"What suspicion?"
"That his intentions were not honest ones!" I answered.
"Why, Clifton," she cried, "what an absurd fancy! Do you think thatbecause I broke off his acquaintance, he intends to murder me?"
"I have no definite views on the subject," I answered, "except that heintended to do you some evil, and has up to the present been thwarted."
"You'll make me quite nervous if you talk like that," she responded,laughing. "Let us forget him. You once admired that woman, AlineCloud, but that circumstance has passed out of my mind."
"You must leave that place and go down to Stamford," I said decisively."A rest in the country will do you good, and in a few months we willmarry."
"I'll have to give a month's notice before I leave," she answered.
"No. Leave to-morrow," I said. "For I cannot bear to think, dearest,that now you are to be my wife you should still bear that terribledrudgery."
She sighed, and her countenance grew troubled, as if something oppressed
her. This caused me some apprehension, for it seemed as though, evennow, she was not perfectly happy.
I gave tongue to this thought, but with a light laugh she assured me ofher perfect contentment, and that her regret was only of the past.
Then we sat together, chatting in ecstatic enthusiasm, as I suppose alllovers do, planning a future, wherein our bliss was to be