to be
feared he would have added that they were all obliged to return to the
contractor by eleven, only he caught the Professor's eye and decided
that he had better refrain. "If you will wait here, I'll go out and
fetch a cab," he added.

"There is no occasion to trouble you," said the Professor; "my wife and
daughter have already got their things on, and we will walk until we
find a cab. Now, Mr. Ventimore, we will bid you good-night and good-bye.
For, after what has happened, you will, I trust, have the good taste to
discontinue your visits and make no attempt to see Sylvia again."

"Upon my honour," protested Horace, "I have done nothing to warrant you
in shutting your doors against me."

"I am unable to agree with you. I have never thoroughly approved of your
engagement, because, as I told you at the time, I suspected you of
recklessness in money matters. Even in accepting your invitation
to-night I warned you, as you may remember, not to make the occasion an
excuse for foolish extravagance. I come here, and find you in apartments
furnished and decorated (as you informed us) by yourself, and on a scale
which would be prodigal in a millionaire. You have a suite of retainers
which (except for their nationality and imperfect discipline) a prince
might envy. You provide a banquet of--hem!--delicacies which must have
cost you infinite trouble and unlimited expense--this, after I had
expressly stipulated for a quiet family dinner! Not content with that,
you procure for our diversion Arab music and dancing of a--of a highly
recondite character. I should be unworthy of the name of father, sir,
if I were to entrust my only daughter's happiness to a young man with so
little common sense, so little self-restraint. And she will understand
my motives and obey my wishes."

"You're right, Professor, according to your lights," admitted Horace.
"And yet--confound it all!--you're utterly wrong, too!"

"Oh, Horace," cried Sylvia; "if you had only listened to dad, and not
gone to all this foolish, foolish expense, we might have been so happy!"

"But I have gone to no expense. All this hasn't cost me a penny!"

"Ah, there _is_ some mystery! Horace, if you love me, you will
explain--here, now, before it's too late!"

"My darling," groaned Horace, "I would, like a shot, if I thought it
would be of the least use!"

"Hitherto," said the Professor, "you cannot be said to have been happy
in your explanations--and I should advise yo