LOVE AND MR. LEWISHAM
—nothing right. Not even a white favour. Only you and I."
"Only you and I. Oh!"
"This is nonsense," said Lewisham, after an interval.
"And think what we lose in the way of speeches," he resumed. "Cannot you imagine the best man rising;—'Ladies and gentlemen—the health of the bride.' That is what the best man has to do, isn't it?"
By way of answer she extended her hand.
"And do you know," he said, after that had received due recognition, "we have never been introduced!"
"Neither have we!" said Ethel. "Neither have we! We have never been introduced!"
For some inscrutable reason it delighted them both enormously to think that they had never been introduced. . . .
In the later afternoon Lewisham, having unpacked his books to a certain extent and so forth, was visible to all men, visibly in the highest spirits, carrying home Ethel's shopping. There were parcels and cones in blue and parcels in rough grey paper and a bag of confectionery, and out of one of the side pockets of that East-end overcoat the tail of a haddock protruded from its paper. Under such magnificent sanctions and amid such ignoble circumstances did this honeymoon begin.
On Sunday evening they went for a long rambling walk through the quiet streets, coming out at last into Hyde Park. The early spring night was mild and clear and the kindly moonlight was about
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