to conceal the fact that her eyes were full of tears she looked straight
up at him.

He sat down beside her on the small, low sofa and put his hand on hers.

"But I was perfectly certain to come," he said very gently, "because, you
see, I think I love you."

"Do you think I love you?" she asked, seeking information.

"I can't tell," he answered. "Your being sorry I did not come doesn't
prove anything. We'll see. You're so wonderfully young, my dear!"

"I don't think eighteen is so young. My mother was married before she
was twenty."

He sat silent for a few seconds, and she felt his hand shut more firmly
on hers. Then he got up, and, pulling a chair to the opposite side of
the table, said briskly:

"And now give me some tea. I haven't had any lunch."

"Oh, why not?" She blew her nose, tucked away her handkerchief, and began
her operations on the tea-tray.

"I work very hard," he returned. "You don't know what at, do you? I'm a
statistician."

"What's that?"