'
'I am afraid I am very awkward,' said John, blushing.
'No; you are very honest, that's all. You are not accomplished in the art
of telling what is not true. Now, this is where we live; will you come
in?'
'Thank you, no; I'm afraid not,' said John. 'I must really be going now.'
'Let the coachman take you to your station.'
'No, no, it is not worth the trouble; it is only a step from here.'
'It is no trouble. Which is your station--South Kensington?'
'Yes.'
'Very well. Drive to South Kensington Station, Parker,' she said to the
coachman; and then, running up the steps, she waved her hand in good-bye,
as the carriage turned.
And so John Kenyon, feeling abashed at his own poverty, was driven in
this gorgeous equipage to the Underground Railway station, where he took
the train for the City.
As he stepped from the carriage at South Kensington, young Mr. Longworth
came out of the station on his way home, and was simply dumfounded to see
Kenyon in the Longworths' carriage.
John passed him without noticing who he was, and just as the coachman was
going to start again, Longworth said to him:
'Parker, have you been picking up fares in the street?'
'Oh no, sir,' replied the respectable Parker; 'the young gentleman as
just left us came from the City with Miss Longworth.'
'Did he, indeed? Where did you pick him up, Parker?'
'We picked him up in Cheapside, sir.'
'Ah, indeed;' and with that, muttering some imprecations on the cheek of
Kenyon, he stepped into the carriage and drove home.
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