putting them on again in an anxious fashion. They are both speaking
in whispers, and the professor is conscious of feeling a strange
sort of pleasure in the thought that he is sharing a secret with
her. "Besides," says he, "I couldn't very well come here again."

"Not come again? Why?"

"I'd be afraid," returns he simply. Whereon Miss Wynter, after a
second's pause, gives way and laughs "consumedly," as they would
have said long, long years before her pretty features saw the light.

"Ah! yes," murmurs she. "How she did frighten you. She brought you
to your knees--you actually"--this with keen reproach--"took her
part against me."

"I took her part to _help_ you," says the professor, feeling
absurdly miserable.

"Yes," sighing, "I daresay. But though I know I should have suffered
for it afterwards, it would have done me a world of good to hear
somebody tell her his real opinion of her for once. I should like,"
calmly, "to see her writhe; she makes me writhe very often."

"This is a bad school for you," says the professor hurriedly.

"Yes? Then why don't you take me away from it?"

"If I could----but---- Well, I shall see," says he vaguely.

"You will have to be very quick about it," says she. Her tone is