I must go," says he.
It is a week later when he meets her again.

The season is now at its height, and some stray wave of life casting the professor into a fashionable thoroughfare, he there finds her.
Marching along, as usual, with his head in the air, and his thoughts in the ages when dates were unknown, a soft, eager voice calling his name brings him back to the fact that he is walking up Bond Street.
In a carriage, exceedingly well appointed, and with her face wreathed in smiles, and one hand impulsively extended, sits Perpetua.

Evidently the owner of the carriage is in the shop making purchases, whilst Perpetua sits without, awaiting her.
"Were you going to cut me ?" cries she.

"What luck to meet you here.
I am having such a _lovely_ day.

Mrs.Constans has taken me out with her, and I am to dine with her, and go with her to a concert in the evening." She has poured it all out, all her good news in a breath, as though sure of a sympathetic listener.
He is too good a listener.