least such was Romeo's case. And certainly it was not Alec's. Yet I
must confess, if he had talked stupidly before, he talked worse now;
and at length went home with the conviction that he had made a great
donkey of himself.

As he walked the lonely road, and the street now fast closing its
windows and going to sleep, he was haunted by a very different vision
from that which had accompanied him a few hours ago. Then it was the
dead face of a man, into which his busy fancy had reset the living eyes
that he had seen looking in at the window of the dissecting room; now
it was the lovely face of his new-found cousin, possessing him so that
he could fear nothing. Life had cast out death. Love had cast out fear.

But love had cast out more. For he found, when he got home, that he
could neither read nor think. If Kate could have been _conscious_ of
its persistent intrusion upon Alec's thoughts, and its constant
interruption of his attempts at study, she would have been ashamed of
that pretty face of hers, and ready to disown it for its forwardness.
At last, he threw his book to the other end of the room, and went to
bed, where he found it not half so difficult to go to sleep as it had
been to study.

The next day things went better; for he was not yet so lost that a
night's rest could do him no good. But it was fortunate that there was
no Greek class, and that he was not called up to read Latin that day.
For the anatomy, he was in earnest about that; and love itself, so long
as its current is not troubled by opposing rocks, will not disturb the
studies of a real student--much.

As he left the dissecting-room, he said to himself that he would just
look in and see how Mr Fraser was. He was shown into the professor's
study.

Mr Fraser smiled as he entered with a certain grim comicality which
Alec's conscience interpreted into: "This won't do, my young man."

"I hope your gout is better to-day, sir," he said, sending his glance
wide astray of his words.

"Yes, I thank you, Mr Forbes," answered Mr Fraser, "it is better. Won't
you sit down?"

Warned by that smile, Alec was astute enough to decline, and presently
took his leave. As he shut the study door, however, he thought he would
just peep into the dining-room, the door of which stood open opposite.
There she was, sitting at the table, writing.

"Who can that letter be to?" thought Alec. But it was early days to be
jealous.

"How do you do, Mr Forbes?" said Kate, ho