The square was overlooked from its remoter corner by the house of which the young girl had spoken, a residence of considerable size, having several windows on each floor.  Inside one of these, on the first floor, the apartment being a large drawing-room, sat a lady, in appearance from twenty-eight to thirty years of age.  The blinds were still undrawn, and the lady was absently surveying the scene without, her cheek resting on her hand.  The room was unlit from within, but enough of the glare from the market-place entered it to reveal the lady’s face.  She was what is called an interesting creature rather than a handsome woman; dark-eyed, thoughtful, and with sensitive lips.  
A man sauntered into the room from behind and came forward.
 
‘O, Edith, I didn’t see you,’ he said.  ‘Why are you sitting here in the dark?’
 
‘I am looking at the fair,’ replied the lady in a languid voice.
 
‘Oh?  nuisance every year!  I wish it could be put a stop to’
 
‘I like it.’
 
‘H’m.  There’s no for taste.’
 
For a moment he gazed from the window with her, for politeness sake, and then went out again.
 
In a few minutes she rang.
 
‘Hasn’t Anna come in?’ asked Mrs. Harnham.
 
‘No m’m.’
 
‘She ought to be in by this time.  I meant her to go for ten minutes only.’
 
‘Shall I go and look for her, m’m?’ said the house-maid alertly.
 
‘No.  It is not necessary: she is a good girl and will come soon.’
 
However, when the servant had gone Mrs. Harnham arose, went up to her room, cloaked and herself, and proceeded downstairs, where she found her husband.
 
‘I want to see the fair,’ she said; ‘and I am going to look for Anna.  I have made myself responsible for her, and must see she comes to no harm.  She ought to be indoors.  Will you come with me?’
 
‘Oh, she’s all right.  I saw her on one of those whirligig things, talking to her young man as I came in.  But I’ll go if you wish, though I’d rather go a hundred miles the other way.’
 
‘Then please do so.  I shall come to no harm alone.’
 
She left the house and entered the crowd which the market-place, where she soon discovered Anna, seated on the horse.  As soon as it stopped Mrs. Harnham advanced and said , ‘Anna, how can you be such a wild girl?  You were only to be out for ten minutes.’
 
Anna looked blank, and the young man, who had dropped into the background, came to her assistance.
 
‘Please don’t blame her,’ he said politely.  ‘It is my fault that she has stayed.  She looked so on the horse that I induced her to go round again.  I assure you that she has been quite safe.’
 
‘In that case I’ll leave her in your hands,’ said Mrs. Harnham, turning to her steps.
 
But this for the moment it was not so easy to do.  Something had attracted the crowd to a spot in their rear, and the wine-merchant’s wife, caught by its sway, found herself pressed against Anna’s acquaintance without power to move away.  Their faces were within a few inches of each other, his breath fanned her cheek as well as Anna’s.  They could do no other than smile at the accident; but neither , and each waited passively.  Mrs. Harnham then felt a man’s hand clasping her fingers, and from the look of consciousness on the young fellow’s face she knew the hand to be his: she also knew that from the position of the girl he had no other thought than that the hand was Anna’s.  What prompted her to refrain from undeceiving him she could hardly tell.  Not content with holding the hand, he playfully slipped two of his fingers inside her glove, against her palm.  Thus matters continued............