"I'm not one to chop and change."

"When we run across him, I'll make myself scarce."

"You'll do nothing of the kind, Mr. Trew."

He pointed out, in the crocodile house, one or two regular customers of the Baker Street to Victoria route, and when they recognized him he became purple with content. A short youth was making notes near a tank in the corner. Mr. Trew, nudging Gertie, went to him and, in a gruff voice, asked what the deuce he was doing there; the youth turned to give a retort.

"I've got your young lady cousin with me," explained Mr. Trew. "Come along, and help with the task of looking after her."

Clarence Mills was pleased to meet Gertie, and, as the three went towards the red-bricked lions' house, mentioned that he proposed to write a dialogue sketch of the Zoo; up to the present little worth recording had been overheard, and he expected he would, as usual, be compelled to invent the conversations.

"I read all of yours, Clarence, that appear in the newspapers," said Gertie.

"That doesn't take up a great deal of your time," he remarked.

"But you're getting on, aren't you?"

"I think of going in for the boot-black business," he said. "I believe I could make a reputation there."

"Don't you go losing 'eart," advised Mr. Trew. "I shouldn't be in the position I occupy now if I hadn't made up my mind, from the start, not to get low-spirited. If any disappointments come your way, simply laugh at 'em. They can stand anything but that. Who is this I see on the far horizon?"

"Don't let him catch sight of us just yet," begged the girl apprehensively. "He seems to have ladies with him."

Henry's companions entered the house, as the roaring within became insistent, and he looked up and down eagerly. Gertie gave a whistle.

"You and I have met before," he said smilingly to Mr. Trew.

"I was a Boy Messenger then, sir."

Gertie introduced her cousin with a touch of pride.

"I am trying to think," said Clarence, "where I saw your name to-day."

"Haven't made a name yet," remarked Henry. "Only been at it for about eighteen months. I say! We don't want to go into that enormous crowd.

We'll stroll round and see how the penguins are getting on. They sometimes look as though they were thinking of giving me a commission to draw up plans for new Law Courts."

At one of the open windows the two ladies were standing, watching over many heads the high tea that was being served to the impatient animals.

The younger one happened to turn as Gertie and her friends went by; she raised her eyebrows.

"Everybody one knows appears to be here," said Henry Dougla.s.s. "I wish you had agreed instead to run out with me from Baker Street Station into the country."

"Can't do that yet," she answered definitely. "Not until we know each other a great deal better."

"Your rules of conduct are precise."

"You'll like me all the better later on," said Gertie, "because of that. Always supposing," she continued, "that you do go on liking me."

"So far as I can gather," he remarked good-temperedly, "I am _persona grata_ now at Praed Street."

"I don't know what that means," she said; "but aunt has quite taken to you. Just look at this! Isn't it extr'ordinary?--Clarence," she called over her shoulder to her cousin, "here is most likely where you saw the name this afternoon."

She examined the inscription framed on the bars. "Presented to the Society by Sir Mark Dougla.s.s."

"No," said Clarence Mills. "That wasn't it. My sluggish memory will arouse presently, and then I shall be able to exhibit signs of intelligence."

They were looking down from the terrace at the white bear in his pit, when a high voice came above the moderate tones of the crowd; Henry took Gertie's arm, and began to talk rapidly of Nansen and the North Pole, but this did not prevent her from glancing over her shoulder.

The people gave way to the owner of the insistent voice, and she, after inspection through pince-nez, made bitter complaint of the clumsiness of the bear, his murky appearance, the serious consequences of indiscriminate feeding. Henry endeavoured to detach the members of his party, but they appeared enthralled by the commanding tones.

"I thought we should meet again," said the younger woman, addressing Henry.

"Miss Loriner," he said to Gertie, with signs of reluctance. "A friend of my sister-in-law."

"I am Lady Dougla.s.s's companion," remarked Miss Loriner.

"She seems ratty about something," said Gertie.

"She has what they call the critical faculty," mentioned the other, with a twinkle of the eye. "I happen to be aware of the fact."

Lady Dougla.s.s was looking around with the air of one searching for fresh subjects; Henry led Gertie to her, and made the introductions.

Lady Dougla.s.s expressed the view that the Gardens were horribly tiring, regretted her ill-luck in visiting on a crowded afternoon. "But no misfortune," she added wearily, "seems to escape me!"

It was not until they descended the steps that the group had an opportunity for forming itself. Miss Loriner, recognizing the girl's perturbation of mind, took her ahead, thus foiling the intentions of Lady Dougla.s.s; they could hear her talking of literature to Clarence Mills in a patronizing way. Gertie's cousin said resolutely, "But George Meredith never wrote a poem with that t.i.tle. You are thinking of Owen Meredith." Lady Dougla.s.s answered, with pride, that she never troubled to remember the names of authors.

"Clarence is standing up to her," remarked Gertie.

"She gets so little contradiction," said Miss Loriner, "that it will have all the charm of novelty. I daren't do it, of course."

"You're thinking of your bread and b.u.t.ter."

"That's about all I should have to eat if I lost this berth."

"Wouldn't care for the job myself."

"I can't do anything else," explained Miss Loriner. "Did you say your cousin was a journalist? I wish I could do something like that. I want to write a novel, badly."

"That's probably how you would write it. Why, even Clarence is finding some trouble over the job. And he's got a brain."

"I suppose that is an advantage," admitted the other serenely. "How long have you known Mr. Dougla.s.s?"

"Her husband must get precious tired of the sound of her voice."

"He does. He goes away a good deal. The war in South Africa was a G.o.dsend to him. Just now he is out somewhere--I forget where. How long have you--"

"Any youngsters?"

"There are no children."

Gertie glanced back at Lady Dougla.s.s in a more friendly way. Clarence had been dropped owing, apparently, to want of sympathy, and Trew was selected as one more likely to agree with arguments.