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〃I am if you say so。〃
〃You're a dear！ I promise not to tell the people back in Texas that you showed any interest in kings and such … if you will show just a little。 Otherwise I'll spread the awful news that you took off your hat when King George went by。〃
The statesman smiled。 West felt that he； who had no business to； was smiling with him。
The waiter returned； bringing grapefruit； and the strawberries West had ordered。 Without another look toward West； the girl put down her paper and began her breakfasting。 As often as he dared； however； West looked at her。 With patriotic pride he told himself： 〃Six months in Europe； and the most beautiful thing I've seen comes from back home！〃
When he rose reluctantly twenty minutes later his two compatriots were still at table； discussing their plans for the day。 As is usual in such cases； the girl arranged； the man agreed。
With one last glance in her direction； West went out on the parched pavement of Haymarket。
Slowly he walked back to his rooms。 Work was waiting there for him； but instead of getting down to it； he sat on the balcony of his study； gazing out on the courtyard that had been his chief reason for selecting those apartments。 Here； in the heart of the city； was a bit of the countryside transported … the green； trim； neatly tailored countryside that is the most satisfying thing in England。 There were walls on which the ivy climbed high； narrow paths that ran between blooming beds of flowers； and opposite his windows a seldom…opened； most romantic gate。 As he sat looking down he seemed to see there below him the girl of the Carlton。 Now she sat on the rustic bench； now she bent above the envious flowers； now she stood at the gate that opened out to a hot sudden bit of the city。
And as he watched her there in the garden she would never enter； as he reflected unhappily that probably he would see her no more … the idea came to him。
At first he put it from him as absurd； impossible。 She was； to apply a fine word much abused； a lady； he supposedly a gentleman。 Their sort did not do such things。 If he yielded to this temptation she would be shocked； angry； and from him would slip that one chance in a thousand he had … the chance of meeting her somewhere； some day。
And yet … and yet … She； too； had found the Agony Column entertaining and … quite nice。 There was a twinkle in her eyes that bespoke a fondness for romance。 She was human； fun…loving … and； above all； the joy of youth was in her heart。
Nonsense！ West went inside and walked the floor。 The idea was preposterous。 Still … he smiled … it was filled with amusing possibilities。 Too bad he must put it forever away and settle down to this stupid work！
Forever away？ Well …
On the next morning； which was Saturday； West did not breakfast at the Carlton。 The girl； however； did。 As she and her father sat down the old man said： 〃I see you've got your Daily Mail。〃
〃Of course！〃 she answered。 〃I couldn't do without it。 Grapefruit … yes。〃
She began to read。 Presently her cheeks flushed and she put the paper down。
〃What is it？〃 asked the Texas statesman。
〃To…day；〃 she answered sternly； 〃you do the British Museum。 You've put it off long enough。〃
The old man sighed。 Fortunately he did not ask to see the Mail。 If he had； a quarter way down the column of personal notices he would have been enraged … or perhaps only puzzled … to read：
CARLTON RESTAURANT： Nine A。M。 Friday morning。 Will the young woman who preferred grapefruit to strawberries permit the young man who had two plates of the latter to say he will not rest until he discovers some mutual friend； that they may meet and laugh over this column together？
Lucky for the young man who liked strawberries that his nerve had failed him and he was not present at the Carlton that morning！ He would have been quite overcome to see the stern uncompromising look on the beautiful face of a lady at her grapefruit。 So overcome； in fact； that he would probably have left the room at once； and thus not seen the mischievous smile that came in time to the lady's face … not seen that she soon picked up the paper again and read； with that smile； to the end of the column。
CHAPTER II
The next day was Sunday； hence it brought no Mail。 Slowly it dragged along。 At a ridiculously early hour Monday morning Geoffrey West was on the street； seeking his favorite newspaper。 He found it； found the Agony Column … and nothing else。 Tuesday morning again he rose early； still hopeful。 Then and there hope died。 The lady at the Canton deigned no reply。
Well； he had lost； he told himself。 He had staked all on this one bold throw； no use。 Probably if she thought of him at all it was to label him a cheap joker； a mountebank of the halfpenny press。 Richly he deserved her scorn。
On Wednesday he slept late。 He was in no haste to look into the Daily Mail； his disappointments of the previous days had been too keen。 At last； while he was shaving； he summoned Walters； the caretaker of the building； and sent him out to procure a certain morning paper。
Walters came back bearing rich treasure； for in the Agony Column of that day West； his face white with lather； read joyously：
STRAWBERRY MAN： Only the grapefruit lady's kind heart and her great fondness for mystery and romance move her to answer。 The strawberry…mad one may write one letter a day for seven days … to prove that he is an interesting person； worth knowing。 Then … we shall see。 Address： M。 A。 L。； care Sadie Haight； Carlton Hotel。
All day West walked on air； but with the evening came the problem of those letters； on which depended； he felt； his entire future happiness。 Returning from dinner； he sat down at his desk near the windows that looked out on his wonderful courtyard。 The weather was still torrid； but with the night had come a breeze to fan the hot cheek of London。 It gently stirred his curtains； rustled the papers on his desk。
He considered。 Should he at once make known the eminently respectable person he was； the hopelessly respectable people he knew？ Hardly！ For then； on the instant； like a bubble bursting； would go for good all mystery and romance； and the lady of the grapefruit would lose all interest and listen to him no more。 He spoke solemnly to his rustling curtains。
〃No；〃 he said。 〃We must have mystery and romance。 But where … where shall we find them？〃
On the floor above he heard the solid tramp of military boots belonging to his neighbor； Captain Stephen Fraser…Freer； of the Twelfth Cavalry； Indian Army； home on furlough from that colony beyond the seas。 It was from that room overhead that romance and mystery were to come in mighty store； but Geoffrey West little suspected it at the moment。 Hardly knowing what to say； but gaining inspiration as he went along； he wrote the first of seven letters to the lady at the Carlton。 And the epistle he dropped in the post box at midnight follows here：
DEAR LADY OF THE GRAPEFRUIT： You are very kind。 Also； you are wise。 Wise； because into my clumsy little Personal you read nothing that was not there。 You knew it immediately for what it was … the timid tentative clutch of a shy man at the skirts of Romance in passing。 Believe me； old Conservatism was with me when I wrote that message。 He was fighting hard。 He followed me； struggling； shrieking； protesting； to the post box itself。 But I whipped him。 Glory be！ I did for him。
We are young but once； I told him。 After that； what use to signal to Romance？ The lady at least； I said； will understand。 He sneered at that。 He shook his silly gray head。 I will admit he had me worried。 But now you have justified my faith in you。 Thank you a million times for that！
Three weeks I have been in this huge； ungainly； indifferent city； longing for the States。 Three weeks the Agony Column has been my sole diversion。 And then … through the doorway of the Carlton restaurant … you came …
It is of myself that I must write； I know。 I will not； then； tell you what is in my mind … the picture of you I carry。 It would mean little to you。 Many Texan gallants； no doubt； have told you the same while the moon was bright above you and the breeze was softly whispering through the branches of … the branches of the … of the … Confound it； I don't know！ I have never been in Texas。 It is a vice in me I hope soon to correct。 All day I intended to look up Texas in the encyclopedia。 But all day I have dwelt in the clouds。 And there are no reference books in the clouds。
Now I am down to earth in my quiet study。 Pens； ink and paper are before me。 I must prove myself a person worth knowing。
》From his rooms； they say； you can tell much about a man。 But； alas！ these peaceful rooms in Adelphi Terrace … I shall not tell the number … were sublet furnished。 So if you could see me now you would be judging me by the possessions left behind by one Anthony Bartholomew。 There is much dust on them。 Judge neither Anthony nor me by that。 Judge rather Walters； the caretaker； who lives in the basement with his gray…haired wife。 Walters was a gardener once； and his whole life is wrapped up in the courtyard on which my balcony looks down。 There he spend