t at once.

They obeyed, Nevill stricken dumb by the thought of his coming
happiness. Stephen would have liked to ask a question or two about the
school, but he refrained, sure that if Nevill were forced into speech he
would give random answers.

This was being in love--the real thing! And Stephen dimly envied his
friend, even though Caird seemed to have small hope of winning the girl.
It was far better to love a woman you could never marry, than to be
obliged to marry one you could never love.

He imagined himself waiting to welcome Margot, beautiful Margot,
returning from Canada to him. He would have to go to Liverpool, of
course. She would be handsomer than ever, probably, and he could
picture their meeting, seven or eight weeks from now. Would his face
wear such an expression as Nevill's wore at this moment? He knew well
that it would not.

"She is coming!" said Nevill, under his breath.

The door of the schoolhouse was opening, and Nevill moved forward as a
tall and charming young woman appeared, like a picture in a dark frame.

She was slender, with a tiny waist, though her bust was full, and her
figure had the intensely feminine curves which artists have caused to be
associated with women of the Latin races; her eyes were like those of
her elder sister, but larger and more brilliant. So big and splendid
they were that they made the smooth oval of her olive face seem small.
Quantities of heavy black hair rippled away from a forehead which would
have been square if the hair had not grown down in a point like a Marie
Stuart cap. Her chin was pointed, with a deep cleft in the middle, and
the dimples Nevill had praised flashed suddenly into being, as if a ray
of sunshine had touched her pale cheeks.

"Mon bon ami!" she exclaimed, holding out both hands in token of
comradeship, and putting emphasis on her last word.

"She's determined the poor chap shan't forget they're only friends,"
thought Stephen, wishing that Caird had not insisted upon his presence
at this first meeting. And in a moment he was being introduced to
Mademoiselle Josette Soubise.

"Did I surprise you?" asked Nevill, looking at her as if he could never
tear his eyes away, though he spoke in an ordinary tone.

"Ah, I know you want me to say 'yes'," she laughed. "I'd like to tell a
white fib, to please you. But no, I am not quite surprised, for my
sister wrote that you might come, and why. What a pity you had this long
journey for nothing. M