h, but a young person who assures me she can hear my
watch ticking in my pocket, when I am in the next room, might undoubtedly
tell many secrets, if so disposed. Number Five is pretty nearly
omniscient, and she and I are on the best terms with each other. These
are all the hints I shall give you at present.

The Teacups of whom the least has been heard at our table are the Tutor
and the Musician. The Tutor is a modest young man, kept down a little, I
think, by the presence of older persons, like the Professor and myself.
I have met him several times, of late, walking with different lady
Teacups: once with the American Annex; twice with the English Annex; once
with the two Annexes together; once with Number Five.

I have mentioned the fact that the Tutor is a poet as among his claims to
our attention. I must add that I do not think any the worse of him for
expressing his emotions and experiences in verse. For though rhyming is
often a bad sign in a young man, especially if he is already out of his
teens, there are those to whom it is as natural, one might almost say as
necessary, as it is to a young bird to fly. One does not care to see
barnyard fowls tumbling about in trying to use their wings. They have a
pair of good, stout drumsticks, and had better keep to them, for the most
part. But that feeling does not apply to young eagles, or even to young
swallows and sparrows. The Tutor is by no means one of those ignorant,
silly, conceited phrase-tinklers, who live on the music of their own
jingling syllables and the flattery of their foolish friends. I think
Number Five must appreciate him. He is sincere, warmhearted,--his poetry
shows that,--not in haste to be famous, and he looks to me as if he only
wanted love to steady him. With one of those two young girls he ought
certainly to be captivated, if he is not already. Twice walking with the
English Annex, I met him, and they were so deeply absorbed in
conversation they hardly noticed me. He has been talking over the matter
with Number Five, who is just the kind of person for a confidante.

"I know I feel very lonely," he was saying, "and I only wish I felt sure
that I could make another person happy. My life would be transfigured if
I could find such a one, whom I could love well enough to give my life to
her,--for her, if that were needful, and who felt an affinity for me, if
any one could."

"And why not your English maiden?" said Number Five.

"What makes you think