sense but that of smell, she could still have found this room by the rich, unctuous odour of cigar smoke which emanated from it.
'Can I come in, Matt?' she murmured.
'Enter,' came a studied voice from within.
She entered. As she came in he who had spoken so dispassionately did not look up, but seated in his shirt sleeves upon the bed in the exact position where, with the looking-glass upon his chest of drawers tilted to the correct angle, he could best see himself, continued placidly to admire himself and to puff great clouds of smoke appreciatively towards his image.
'What a lovely smell your cigar has, Matt,' she remarked, with ingenuous approval.
Matthew removed the weed from his lips in a dashing manner, still regarding himself approvingly.
'Yes,' he agreed, 'and it should have at the money. This is a Supremo, meaning the best. Five for sixpence, but this single one cost me three halfpence. It was a sample and if I like it I’ll go in for a few. The smell is good, Mary, but the bouquet is what we smokers appreciate. No cigar is really first class unless it has bouquet. This has what is called a nutty bouquet.' He removed his eyes unwillingly from the mirror and contemplating his cigar more closely added,
'Now I'll stop; I think I've smoked enough.'
'Oh! Go on,' she encouraged. 'It's lovely! Far nicer than a pipe!'
'No! I must keep the other half for this evening' he replied firmly, carefully extinguishing the glowing end against the cold china of his wash basin and preserving the stubb in his waistcoat pocket.
'Does Aggie Moir like you to smoke?' she murmured, drawing her conclusions from his actions.
'Agnes, if you please not Aggie,' he replied in a pained voice. 'How often have I told you not to be familiar like that. It's vulgar. It's it's a liberty on your part.'
She lowered her eyes. 'I'm sorry, Matt.'
'I should hope so! Remember, Mary, that Miss Moir is a young lady, a very worthy young lady, and my intended as well. Yes, if you must know, she does like me to smoke. She was against it at first but now she thinks it manly and romantic. But she objects to the odour of the breath afterwards and therefore gives me cachous. She prefers the variety called 'Sweet Lips.' They're very agreeable.'
'Do you love Agnes very much, Matt?' she demanded earnestly.
'Yes, and she loves me a great deal,' he asserted. 'You shouldn't talk about things you know nothing about, but you've surely the sense to know that when people are walking out they must be fond of one another. Agnes worships me. You should see the things she gives me. It's a great thing for a young man to have an affinity like that. She's a most estimable girl.'
Mary was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed upon him intently, then suddenly pressing her hand to her side, she asked involuntarily, wistfully:
'Does it hurt you when you think of Agnes when you're away from her?'
'Certainly not,' replied Matthew primly. 'That's not a nice thing to ask. If I had that pain I should think I had indigestion. What a girl you are for asking questions and what questions you do ask! We'll have no more of it, if you please. I'm going to practise now, so don't interrupt.'
He rose up and stooping carefully to avoid creasing his best trousers, took a mandolin case from under the bed and extracted a mandolin decorated with a large bow of pink satin ribbon. Next he unrolled a thin yellow-covered music book entitled in large letters: 'First Steps in the Mandolin', and in smaller print below: 'Aunt Nellie's Guide for Young Mandolin Players, after the method of the famous Sefior Rosas', opened it at page two, laid it flat upon the bed before him, and sitting down beside it, in an attitude of picturesque ease, drew the romantic instrument to him and began to play. He did not, alas, fulfil the expectation which his experienced posture aroused, or dash ravishingly into an enchanting serenade, but with a slow and laborious touch picked out two or three bars of 'Nelly Ely', until his execution grew more and more halting and he finally broke down.
'Begin again,' remarked Mary helpfully.
He rewarded her with an aggrieved look.
'I think I asked you to remain silent, Miss Chatterbox. Remember this is a most difficult and complicated instrument. I must perfect myself in it before I leave for India. Then I can play to the ladies on board during the tropical evenings. A man must practise! You know, I'm getting on splendidly, but perhaps you would like to try as you're so clever.'
He did, however, begin again and eventually tweaked his way through the piece. The succession of tuneless discords was excruciating to the ear, and, in common with the art of smoking, could only be indulged in during the absence of his father; but Mary, nevertheless, with her chin cupped in her hands, watched, rather than listened, admiringly.
At the conclusion Matthew ran his fingers through his hair with a careless, yet romantic gesture.
'I am perhaps not in my best form to-night; I think I am a little 'triste, pensive, Mary, you know. Perhaps a little upset at the office to-day these confounded figures it disturbs an artistic temperament like mine. I'm not really understood down at the Yard.' He sighed with a dreamy sadness befitting his unappreciated art, but soon looked up, anxious for encouragement, asking:
'But how did it really go? How did it seem?'
'Very like it,' replied Mary reassuringly.
'Like what?' he demanded doubtfully.
'The Saucy Kate Galop, of course!'
'You little ninny,' shouted Matthew. 'It was 'Nelly Ely'.' He was completely upset, looked at her crushingly, then jumped off the bed and put the mandolin away in a huff, remarking, as he bent down, 'I believe you only said it to spite me,' and asserting disdainfully as he got up, 'You've no ear for music, anyway.' He did not seem to hear her profuse apologies, but turning his back took a very stiff high collar and a bright blue spotted tie from the drawer, and still occupied by his pique, continued:
'Miss Moir has! She says I'm very musical, that I've got the best voice in the choir. She sings delightfully herself. I wish you were more worthy to be her sister-in-law.'
She was quite upset at her clumsy tongue and well aware of her un worthiness, but she pleaded:
'Let me tie your necktie anyway, Matt.'
He turned sulkily and condescendingly permitted Mary to knot the cravat, a task she always undertook for him, and which she now performed neatly and dexterously, so that presenting himself again before the mirror, he regarded the result with satisfaction.
'Brilliantine,' he demanded next, forgiving her by his command. She handed him the bottle from which he sprinkled copious libations of mellifluous liquid upon his hair and with a concentrated mien he then combed his locks into a picturesque wave.
'My hair is very thick, Mary,' he remarked, as he carefully worked the comb behind his ears. 'I shall never go bald. That ass Couper said it was getting thin on the top the last time he cut it. The very idea! I'll stop going to him in future for his impertinence.'
When he had achieved the requisite undulation amongst his curls, he extended his arms and allowed her to help him to assume his coat, then took a clean linen handkerchief, scented it freshly with Sweet Pea Perfume, draped it artistically from his pocket, and surveyed the finished result in the glass steadily.
'Smart cut,” he murmured, 'neat waist. Miller does wonderfully for a local tailor, don't you think ?' he queried. 'Of course I keep him up to it and he's got a figure to work on! Well, if Agnes is not pleased with me to-night, she ought to be.' Then, as he moved away, he added inconsequently, 'And don't forget, Mary, half-past ten to-night, or perhaps a little shade later.'
'I'll be awake, Matt,' she murmured reassuringly.
'Sure now?'
'Sure!'
This last remark exposed the heel of Achilles, for this admirable, elegant young man, smoker, mandoliiiist, lover, the future intrepid voyager to India had one amazing weakness he was afraid of the dark. He admitted Mary to his confidence and companionship incontestably for the reason that she would meet him by arrangement on these nights when he was late and escort him up the obscure and
gloomy stairs to his bedroom, without fail and with a loyalty which never betrayed him. She never considered
