ards the window, and suddenly her
cheeks became a rosy red. She instantly looked another way.

'Having my own office so near, it was not necessary, thank you,' replied
Havill, as, noting her countenance, he allowed his glance to stray into
the street. Somerset was walking past on the opposite side.

'The time is--the time fixed for sending in the drawings is the first
of November, I believe,' she said confusedly; 'and the decision will be
come to by three gentlemen who are prominent members of the Institute of
Architects.'

Havill then accompanied her to the carriage, and she drove away.

Havill went to the back window to tell Dare that he need not stay in the
garden; but the garden was empty. The architect remained alone in his
office for some time; at the end of a quarter of an hour, when the
scream of a railway whistle had echoed down the still street, he beheld
Somerset repassing the window in a direction from the railway, with
somewhat of a sad gait. In another minute Dare entered, humming the
latest air of Offenbach.

''Tis a mere piece of duplicity!' said Havill.

'What is?'

'Her pretending indifference as to which of us comes out successful in
the competition, when she colours carmine the moment Somerset passes
by.' He described Paula's visit, and the incident.

'It may not mean Cupid's Entire XXX after all,' said Dare judicially.
'The mere suspicion that a certain man loves her would make a girl blush
at his unexpected appearance. Well, she's gone from him for a time; the
better for you.'

'He has been privileged to see her off at any rate.'

'Not privileged.'

'How do you know that?'

'I went out of your garden by the back gate, and followed her carriage
to the railway. He simply went to the first bridge outside the station,
and waited. When she was in the train, it moved forward; he was all
expectation, and drew out his handkerchief ready to wave, while she
looked out of the window towards the bridge. The train backed before
it reached the bridge, to attach the box containing her horses, and the
carriage-truck. Then it started for good, and when it reached the bridge
she looked out again, he waving his handkerchief to her.'

'And she waving hers back?'

'No, she didn't.'

'Ah!'

'She looked at him--nothing more. I wouldn't give much for his chance.'
After a while Dare added musingly: 'You are a mathematician: did you
ever investigate the doctrine of expectations?'

'Never.'

Dare dre