neighbour. She had been away more or less all winter, but there had
been no announcement of any engagement--nor sign of one.

The Skeptic, enjoying my stupefaction, proceeded to give what he
considered an explanation. "I don't see why you should be so surprised,"
he said. "You knew Dahlia's methods. Her net was always spread, and
though a certain wise man declares it in vain to spread it in the sight
of any bird, humans are not always so wary. A man who chanced to be
walking along with his head in the clouds might get his feet entangled
in a cunningly laid net. And so it happened to the Professor."

"The Professor!" I ejaculated. "Not--our Professor?"

The Skeptic nodded solemnly.

"He was our Professor," he amended. "He's hers now. And day before
yesterday he was free!"

He glanced at his watch, folded his napkin in haste, seized his coat and
hat, kissed his wife, patted her shoulder, nodded at me, and was gone. A
minute later we heard the whirr and slide of his car, and Hepatica, at
the window, was returning his wave.

"He's looking extremely well," I observed. "He must be twenty pounds
heavier than he was that summer. Avoiding being avoided was probably
rather thinning."

"He does seem to enjoy his food," admitted Hepatica, regarding the
Skeptic's empty plate with satisfaction.