air was hid from the shop. But was it
possible? Was it possible that in those tiny bedrooms on the third
floor, where the heavy evening hours were ever lightened with breathless
interminable recitals of what some 'he' had said and some 'she' had
replied, such an enthralling episode should escape discovery? The
dormitories knew of Eva's 'attachment' before Eva herself. Yet none knew
how it was known. The whisper arose like Venus from a sea of trivial
gossip, miraculously, exquisitely. On the night when the first rumour of
it traversed the passages there was scarcely any sleep at Brunt's, while
Eva up at Pireford slumbered as a young girl.

On the Thursday afternoon with which we began, Brunt's was deserted save
for the housekeeper and Eva, who was writing letters in her room.

'I saw you from my window, coming up the street,' she said to Clive,
'and so I ran down to open the door. Will you come into father's room?
He is in Manchester for the day, buying.

'I knew that,' said Timmis.

'How did you know?' She observed that his manner was somewhat nervous
and constrained.

'You yourself told me last night--don't you remember?'

'So I did.'

'That's why I sent the note round this morning to say I'd call this
afternoon. You got it, I suppose?'

She nodded thoughtfully.

'Well, what is this business you want to talk about?'

It was spoken with a brave carelessness, but he caught the tremor in her
voice, and saw her little hand shake as it lay on the table amid her
father's papers. Without knowing why he should do so, he stepped hastily
forward and seized that hand. Her emotion unmanned him. He thought he
was going to cry; he could not account for himself.

'Eva,' he said thickly, 'you know what the business is; you know, don't
you?'

She smiled. That smile, the softness of her hand, the sparkle in her
eye, the heave of her small bosom ... it was the divinest miracle!
Clive, manufacturer of majolica, went hot and then cold, and then his
wits were suddenly his own again.

'That's all right,' he murmured, and sighed, and placed on Eva's lips
the first kiss that had ever lain there.

'Dear boy,' she said later, 'you should have come up to Pireford, not
here, and when father was there.'

'Should I?' he answered happily. 'It just occurred to me all of a sudden
this morning that you would be here, and that I couldn't wait.'

'You will come up to-night and see father?'

'I had meant to.'

'You had better go hom