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post…office where she and he shall meet no more。 In these windy
days she is like a homeless leaf blown about by passers…by。
There is nothing I can do except thunder at William。
At last she accomplished her unworthy ambition。 It was a wet
Thursday； and from the window where I was writing letters I saw
the forlorn soul taking up her position at the top of the street：
in a blast of fury I rose with the one letter I had completed；
meaning to write the others in my chambers。 She had driven me
from the club。
I had turned out of Pall Mall into a side street； when whom
should I strike against but her false swain！ It was my fault；
but I hit out at him savagely； as I always do when I run into
anyone in the street。 Then I looked at him。 He was hollow…eyed；
he was muddy； there was not a haw left in him。 I never saw a
more abject young man； he had not even the spirit to resent the
testy stab I had given him with my umbrella。 But this is the
important thing： he was glaring wistfully at the post…office and
thus in a twink I saw that he still adored my little governess。
Whatever had been their quarrel he was as anxious to make it up
as she； and perhaps he had been here every Thursday while she was
round the corner in Pall Mall； each watching the post…office for
an apparition。 But from where they hovered neither could see the
other。
I think what I did was quite clever。 I dropped my letter unseen
at his feet； and sauntered back to the club。 Of course； a
gentleman who finds a letter on the pavement feels bound to post
it； and I presumed that he would naturally go to the nearest
office。
With my hat on I strolled to the smoking…room window； and was
just in time to see him posting my letter across the way。 Then I
looked for the little nursery governess。 I saw her as woe…begone
as ever； then； suddenlyoh； you poor little soul； and has it
really been as bad as that！
She was crying outright； and he was holding both her hands。 It
was a disgraceful exhibition。 The young painter would evidently
explode if he could not make use of his arms。 She must die if
she could not lay her head upon his breast。 I must admit that he
rose to the occasion； he hailed a hansom。
〃William；〃 said I gaily； 〃coffee； cigarette； and cherry brandy。〃
As I sat there watching that old play David plucked my sleeve to
ask what I was looking at so deedily； and when I told him he ran
eagerly to the window； but he reached it just too late to see the
lady who was to become his mother。 What I told him of her
doings； however； interested him greatly； and he intimated rather
shyly that he was acquainted with the man who said；
〃Haw…haw…haw。〃 On the other hand； he irritated me by betraying
an idiotic interest in the two children； whom he seemed to regard
as the hero and heroine of the story。 What were their names？
How old were they？ Had they both hoops？ Were they iron hoops； or
just wooden hoops？ Who gave them their hoops？
〃You don't seem to understand； my boy；〃 I said tartly； 〃that had
I not dropped that letter； there would never have been a little
boy called David A。〃 But instead of being appalled by this he
asked； sparkling； whether I meant that he would still be a bird
flying about in the Kensington Gardens。
David knows that all children in our part of London were once
birds in the Kensington Gardens； and that the reason there are
bars on nursery windows and a tall fender by the fire is because
very little people sometimes forget that they have no longer
wings； and try to fly away through the window or up the chimney。
Children in the bird stage are difficult to catch。 David knows
that many people have none； and his delight on a summer afternoon
is to go with me to some spot in the Gardens where these
unfortunates may be seen trying to catch one with small pieces of
cake。
That the birds know what would happen if they were caught； and
are even a little undecided about which is the better life； is
obvious to every student of them。 Thus； if you leave your empty
perambulator under the trees and watch from a distance； you will
see the birds boarding it and hopping about from pillow to
blanket in a twitter of excitement； they are trying to find out
how babyhood would suit them。
Quite the prettiest sight in the Gardens is when the babies stray
from the tree where the nurse is sitting and are seen feeding the
birds； not a grownup near them。 It is first a bit to me and then
a bit to you； and all the time such a jabbering and laughing from
both sides of the railing。 They are comparing notes and
inquiring for old friends； and so on； but what they say I cannot
determine； for when I approach they all fly away。
The first time I ever saw David was on the sward behind the
Baby's Walk。 He was a missel…thrush； attracted thither that hot
day by a hose which lay on the ground sending forth a gay trickle
of water； and David was on his back in the water； kicking up his
legs。 He used to enjoy being told of this； having forgotten all
about it； and gradually it all came back to him； with a number of
other incidents that had escaped my memory； though I remember
that he was eventually caught by the leg with a long string and a
cunning arrangement of twigs near the Round Pond。 He never tires
of this story； but I notice that it is now he who tells it to me
rather than I to him； and when we come to the string he rubs his
little leg as if it still smarted。
So when David saw his chance of being a missel…thrush again he
called out to me quickly： 〃Don't drop the letter！〃 and there were
tree…tops in his eyes。
〃Think of your mother；〃 I said severely。
He said he would often fly in to see her。 The first thing he
would do would be to hug her。 No； he would alight on the water…
jug first； and have a drink。
〃Tell her； father；〃 he said with horrid heartlessness； 〃always to
have plenty of water in it； 'cos if I had to lean down too far I
might fall in and be drownded。〃
〃Am I not to drop the letter； David？ Think of your poor mother
without her boy！〃
It affected him； but he bore up。 When she was asleep； he said；
he would hop on to the frilly things of her night…gown and peck
at her mouth。
〃And then she would wake up； David； and find that she had only a
bird instead of a boy。〃
This shock to Mary was more than he could endure。 〃You can drop
it；〃 he said with a sigh。 So I dropped the letter； as I think I
have already mentioned； and that is how it all began。
III
Her Marriage； Her Clothes； Her Appetite； and an Inventory of Her
Furniture
A week or two after I dropped the letter I was in a hansom on my
way to certain barracks when loud above the city's roar I heard
that accursed haw…haw…haw； and there they were； the two of them；
just coming out of a shop where you may obtain pianos on the hire
system。 I had the merest glimpse of them； but there was an