And yet--she certainly seemed to like--that is not to _dislike_ my being with her; and once--well,"-- confusedly--"that was nothing." "It must have been something." "No, really; and I shouldn't have mentioned it either--not for a moment." The professor's face changes.

The apathy that has lain upon it for the past five minutes now gives way to a touch of fierce despair.

He turns aside, as if to hide the tell-tale features, and going to the window, gazes sightlessly on the hot, sunny street below.
What was it--_what ?_ Shall he never have the courage to find out?
And is this to be the end of it all?
In a flash the coming of the girl is present before him, and now, here is her going.

Had he--had she--what _was_ it he meant?
No wonder if her girlish fancy had fixed itself on this tall, handsome, young man, with his kindly, merry ways and honest meaning.

Ah! that was what she meant perhaps when last night she had told him "she would not be a worry to him _long!"_ Yes, she had meant that; that she was going to marry Hardinge! But to _know_ what Hardinge means! A torturing vision of a little lovely figure, gowned all in white--of a little lovely face uplifted--of another face down bent! No! a thousand times, no! Hardinge would not speak of that--it would be too sacred; and yet this awful doubt---- "Look here.