won't mind my saying so," were the next words that
pierced his brain. "You must not be offended at my telling you; but you
are hardly fulfilling the expectations we, your friends, you know, had
formed of you. My dear fellow, you really must pull yourself together,
or February will find you still unprepared."

Maurice went a shade paler; he was clear, now, as to the object of
Dove's visit. But he answered in an off-hand way. "Oh, there's time
enough yet."

"No. That's a mistaken point of view, if I may say so," replied Dove in
his blandest manner. "Time requires to be taken by the forelock, you
know."

"Does it?" Maurice allowed the smile that was expected of him to cross
his face.

"Most emphatically--And we fellow-students of yours are not the only
people who have noticed a certain--what shall I say?--a certain
abatement of energy on your part. Schwarz sees it, too--or I am much
mistaken."

"What?--he, too?" said Maurice, and pretended a mild surprise. For some
seconds now he had been mentally debating with himself whether he
should not, there and then, show Dove the door. He decided against it.
A "Damn your interference!" meant plain-speaking, on both sides; it
meant a bandying of words; and more expenditure of strength than he had
to spare for Dove. Once more he drew out and consulted his watch.

"Unfortunately, yes," said Dove, ignoring the hint. "I assume it, from
something he let drop this afternoon. Now, you know, your Mendelssohn
ought to have been a brilliant piece of work--yes, the expression is
not too strong. And it still must be. My dear Guest, what I came to say
to you to-day--one, at any rate, of the reasons that brought me--was,
that you must not allow your interest in what you are doing to flag at
the eleventh hour."

Maurice laughed. "Oh, certainly not! Most awfully good of you to
trouble."

"No trouble at all," Dove assured him. He flicked some dust from his
trouser-knee before he spoke again. "I ... er ... that is, I had some
talk the other day with Miss Wade."

"Indeed!" replied Maurice, and was now able accurately to gauge the
motor origin of Dove's appearance. "How is she? How is Madeleine?"

"She was speaking of you, Guest. She would, I think, like to see you."

"Yes. I've rather neglected her lately, I'm afraid.--But when there's
so much to do, you know ..."

"It's a pity," said Dove, passing over the last words, and nodding his
head sagaciously. "She's a staunch friend of yours,