ted," he answered, laughing again.

"But his laugh is very pleasant," reflected Mrs. Pasmer. "Does Alice
dislike it so much?" She repeated aloud, "If it can be prevented?"

"They think I might spoil a great lawyer in the attempt."

"Oh, I see. And are you going to be a lawyer? But to be a great painter!
And America has so few of them." She knew quite well that she was
talking nonsense, but she was aware, through her own indifference to
the topic that he was not minding what she said, but was trying to bring
himself into talk with Alice again. The girl persistently listened to
Professor Saintsbury.

"Is she punishing him for something?" her mother asked herself. "What
can it be for. Does she think he's a little too pushing? Perhaps, he is
a little pushing." She reflected, with an inward sigh, that she would
know whether he was if she only knew more about him.

He did the honours of his room very simply and nicely, and he said
it was pretty rough to think this was the last of it. After which he
faltered, and something occurred to Mrs Saintsbury.

"Why, we're keeping you! It's time for you to dress for the Tree.
John"--she reproached her husband--"how could you let us do it?"

"Far be it from me to hurry ladies out of other people's
houses--especially ladies who have put themselves in charge of other
people."

"No, don't hurry," pleaded Mavering; "there's plenty of time."

"How much time?" asked Mrs. Saintsbury.

He looked at his watch. "Well, a good quarter of an hour."

"And I was to have taken Mrs. Pasmer and Alice home for a little rest
before the Tree!" cried Mrs Saintsbury. "And now we must go at once, or
we shall get no sort of places."

In the civil and satirical parley which followed, no one answered
another, but young Mavering bore as full a part as the elder ladies, and
only his father and Alice were silent: his guests got themselves out of
his room. They met at the threshold a young fellow, short and dark and
stout, in an old tennis suit. He fell back at sight of them, and took
off his hat to Mrs. Saintsbury.

"Why, Mr. Boardman!"

"Don't be bashful, Boardman?" young Mavering called out. "Come in and
show them how I shall look in five minutes."

Mr. Boardman took his introductions with a sort of main-force
self-possession, and then said, "You'll have to look it in less than
five minutes now, Mavering. You're come for."

"What? Are they ready?"

"We must fly," panted Mrs. Saintsbury, without