Thrusting his hand into his pocket for money, he found only a sovereign--pretty nearly his last!--and some silver.

'That's on account,' he said loftily, giving the sovereign to the shopman; 'send the things home to-morrow afternoon--to-morrow _afternoon_, mind--and I'll pay for them on delivery.' Then he jumped into his hansom again, and for sheer excitement told the man to hurry, and he should have an extra shilling.

On they sped down Park Lane.

The beds of many-coloured hyacinths in the Park shone through the cheerful dusk; the street was crowded, and beyond, the railings, the seats under the trees were full of idlers.

There was a sparkle of flowers in the windows of the Park Lane houses, together with golden sunset touches on the glass; and pretty faces wrapt in lace or gauze looked out from the hansoms as they passed him by.