delia gave him no sign; she remained friendly and interested; but during these weeks following his break with Alice, Fidelia never by word or act did one thing to lead him on. He considered: "She never actually made a lead for me; yet, she went with me as far as I asked her. . . . But I never asked any distance."
He was in his room one warm, May noon preparing to go to town when he saw Fidelia come from Mrs. Fansler's. Fidelia was in blue street dress with scarf; she had on hat and veil and gloves, all evidences of no mere local errand but of an expedition to Chicago. Dave picked up that bundle of his mother's dress, which had been long waiting his decision, and he went out and turned in the direction of the railroad station.
He saw Fidelia half a block ahead but intentionally he did not overtake her until she reached the station platform.
"Going to a matinée?" Dave asked; the day happened to be Wednesday.
"I don't know," Fidelia admitted. "Maybe."
As the train roared in, he waited until they were seated side by side before he pursued: "You mean you want to go to a show but aren't sure of tickets?"
"No," said Fidelia. "I'm just going to the city. I don't know what I'll do; maybe a play; maybe shopping; maybe just seeing lots of people. Don't you like to be that way?"
"I never have," Dave replied. "I say, how about lunch? Have you had it?"
"No. I'm going to have that in the city."
"Where?"
She smiled, her pretty nose shortening in its attrac-
