I'll tell you," says Hardinge's voice at this moment.
"After all, you are her guardian--her father almost--though I know you scarcely relish your position; and you ought to know about it, and perhaps you can give me your opinion, too, as to whether there was anything in it, you know.

The fact is, I,"-- rather shamefacedly--"asked her for a flower out of her bouquet, and she gave it.

That was all, and," hurriedly, "I don't really believe she meant anything _by_ giving it, only," with a nervous laugh, "I keep hoping she _did!"_ A long, long sigh comes through the professor's lips straight from his heart.

Only a flower she gave him! Well---- "What do _you_ think ?" asks Hardinge after a long pause.
"It is a matter on which I could not think." "But there is this," says Hardinge.

"You will forward my cause rather than your brother's, will you not?
This is an extraordinary demand to make I know--but--I also know _you."_ "I would rather see her dead than married to my brother," says the professor, slowly, distinctly.
"And---- ?" questions Hardinge.
The professor hesitates a moment, and then: "What do you want me to do ?" asks he.
"Do?
'Say a good word for me' to her; that is the old way of putting it, isn't it?
and it expresses all I mean.