"Well, I confess I have seen a good deal of her of late."

"And to some purpose. Your knowledge of her should lead you to
making a way out of this difficulty."

"I have thought of one," says Hardinge boldly, yet with a quick
flush. "You are her guardian. Why not arrange another marriage for
her, before this affair with Sir Hastings goes too far?"

"There are two parties to a marriage," says the professor, his tone
always very low. "Who is it to whom you propose to marry Miss
Wynter?"

Hardinge, getting up, moves abruptly to the window and back again.

"You have known me a long time, Curzon," says he at last. "You--you
have been my friend. I have family--position--money--I----"

"I am to understand then, that _you_ are a candidate for the hand
of my ward," says the professor, slowly, so slowly that it might
suggest itself to a disinterested listener that he has great
difficulty in speaking at all.

"Yes," says Hardinge, very diffidently. He looks appealingly at the
professor. "I know perfectly well she might do a great deal better,"
says he, with a modesty that sits very charmingly upon him. "But if
it comes to a choice between me and your brother, I--I think I am
the better man. By Jove, Curzon," growing hot, "it's awfully rude of
me, I know, but it is so hard to remember that he _is_ your
brother."