le ever
to be _mildly_ angry with you. Either one would have waxed impotently
furious; or one would have wanted to--to hug you!"

The Boy leapt up.

"Sit down," said Miss Charteris, "or I shall send you away. And I do
not wish to do that; because I have quite made up my mind to tell you
to-day, a thing which I suppose I ought to have told you long ago; and
I tried to do so, Boy; but somehow you always made it impossible. I
want to--to tell you about--the Professor." She paused.

It was so very difficult. It was like rolling a heavy stone up a steep
hill. And the Boy made no attempt to help her. He lay back with an
exaggerated display of resignation. He looked at her with sleepy,
amused eyes. And he asked no questions. The army of Israel obviously
declined to parley.

"I have long felt I ought to tell you about the Professor," continued
Miss Charteris.

The Boy sighed. "I think I jolly well know all there is to know about
professors," he said.

"Not about this one," explained Miss Charteris. "He is _my_ Professor."

"Oh, if he's _your_ Professor," said the Boy, sitting up, "of course I
am interested. But I am not sure that I approve of you having a tame
Professor; especially when it arrives in goloshes, and leaves them in
the hall."

"I am afraid nobody will ask whether you approve or not, Little Boy
Blue. The Professor has been a great friend of mine during nearly
twelve years; and I think I am possibly--in fact, very probably--going
to marry the Professor."

"Really?" said the Boy. "May I ask when he proposed?"

"He has not proposed, Boy."

The Boy produced his pocket-book, took out a calendar, and studied it
attentively.

"Then I'm afraid you will have some time to wait," he said. "It will
not be leap year again until 1912."

This sounded impertinent; but the Boy could no more have been guilty of
intentional impertinence toward her, than he could have picked her
pocket; and Miss Charteris knew it. There was one thing of which those
who had dealings with Christobel Charteris could always be
sure--absolute justice. She had seen the Boy's face whiten suddenly,
to a terrible pallor, beneath his tan. She knew he was making a
desperate fight for self-control. How best could she help? Her own
part seemed almost more than she could manage.

"Come here, Boy dear," she said, holding out her hand.

He hesitated one instant; then rose unsteadily to his feet, and
came--not to his usual pla