"But----"

"There is no 'But,' sir. The subject doesn't admit of argument. In
my young days, and I should think"--scrutinising him exhaustively
through her glasses--_"in yours_, it was not customary for a young
_gentlewoman _to go out walking, alone, with _'a man'!!"_ If she
had said with a famished tiger, she couldn't have thrown more horror
into her tone.

The professor had shrunk a little from that classing of her age with
his, but has now found matter for hope in it.

"Still--my age--as you suggest--so far exceeds Perpetua's--I am
indeed so much older than she is, that I might be allowed to escort
her wherever it may please her to go."

"The _real_ age of a man nowadays, sir, is a thing impossible to
know," says Miss Majendie. "You wear glasses--a capital disguise! I
mean nothing offensive--_so far_--sir, but it behoves me to be
careful, and behind those glasses, who can tell what demon lurks?
Nay! No offence! An _innocent_ man would _feel_ no offence!"

"Really, Miss Majendie!" begins the poor professor, who is as red as
though he were the guiltiest soul alive.

"Let me proceed, sir. We were talking of the ages of men."

_"We?"_