ly round a corner.

"Well, YOU seem to be enjoying yourself," she said as Maurice drew off
his gloves and knelt down.

"Why, yes, aren't you?" he replied so frankly that she did not continue
the subject.

"I've been trying all the evening to get a word with you. I told you
yesterday, you remember, that I wanted to speak to you. Sit down here,
for a moment, so that we can talk in peace," and she spread part of her
skirt over the snow-heap.

Maurice complied, and she could not discover any trace of reluctance in
his manner.

"I want your advice," she continued. "I was taken quite by surprise
myself. Schwarz sent for me, you know, after counterpoint. It was about
my PRUFUNG at Easter. If I play then, it's a case of the C minor
Beethoven. Well, now he says it's a thousand pities for me to break off
just at the stage I'm at, and he wants me to stay for another year. If
I do, he'll give me the G major--that's a temptation, isn't it? On the
other hand, I shall have been here my full time--three years--at
Easter. That's a year longer than I originally intended, and I feel I'm
getting too old to be a pupil. But this talk with Schwarz has upset my
plans. I'm naturally flattered at his interesting himself in me. He
wouldn't do it for every one. And I do feel I could gain an immense
deal in another year.--Now, what do you think?"

"Why, stay, of course, Madeleine. If you can afford it, that is. I
can't imagine anyone wanting to leave."

"Oh, my capital will last so long, and it's a good enough investment."

"But wasn't a place being kept open for you in a school?"

"Yes; but I don't think a year more or less will make much difference
to them. I must sound them, of course, though," said Madeleine, and did
not mention that she had written and posted the letter the night
before. "Then you advise me to stay?"

"Why, of course," he repeated, and was mildly astonished at her. "If
everything is as smooth as you say."

"You would miss me, if I left?"

"Why, of course I should," he said again, and wondered what in the
world she was driving at.

"Well, all the better," replied Madeleine. "For when one has really got
to like a person, one would rather it made a difference than not."

She was silent after this, and sat looking down the stretch of ice they
had travelled: the moon was behind a cloud, and the woods on either
side were masses of dense black shadow. Not a soul was in sight; the
river was like a deserted highway. M