"That was intended for humour," he explained.

"I so diagnosed it," she flashed back at him.

He looked down at her diminutive figure with its well-shaped, patrician
head, its sensitive mouth, its wide-set, shining eyes.

"Star-shine," he smiled.

She poked him with a sharp "What?"

"You don't think I ought to--to--kiss you, possibly, do you?"

"Mercy, no!"

"Good! I was afraid you might expect something of me."

"Oh, no. Think what you have done for the girl," she quoted, and he
heard her laugh down the hall and out into the garden. He took a step as
if to follow her. Then, with a shake of his shoulders, he climbed the
stairs to his new workshop with a smile on his lips.



III

The Professor was working in his garden. It was one of his few
relaxations, and he took it as seriously as a problem. He had great
success with flowers, owing to what he called his system. He was