y wondered. "'Mentioned' it?"

"In which," said Nanda, "he hasn't pleased him."

Mitchy after an instant risked it. "But what other matter?"

"Oh he says that when I speak to him Mr. Longdon will know."

Mitchy gravely took this in. "And shall you speak to him?"

"For Mr. Van?" How, she seemed to ask, could he doubt it? "Why the very
first thing."

"And then will Mr. Longdon tell you?"

"What Mr. Van means?" Nanda thought. "Well--I hope not."

Mitchy followed it up. "You 'hope'--?"

"Why if it's anything that could possibly make any one like him any
less. I mean I shan't in that case in the least want to hear it."

Mitchy looked as if he could understand that and yet could also imagine
something of a conflict. "But if Mr. Longdon insists--?"

"On making me know? I shan't let him insist. Would YOU?" she put to him.

"Oh I'm not in question!"

"Yes, you are!" she quite rang out.

"Ah--!" Mitchy laughed. After which he added: "Well then, I might
overbear you."

"No, you mightn't," she as positively declared again, "and you wouldn't
at any rate desire to."

This he finally showed he could take from her--showed it in the silence
in which for a minute their eyes met; then showed it perhaps even more
in his deep exclamation: "You're complete!"

For such a proposition as well she had the same detached sense. "I don't
think I am in anything but the wish to keep YOU so."

"Well--keep me, keep me! It strikes me that I'm not at all now on a
footing, you know, of keeping myself. I quite give you notice in
fact," Mitchy went on, "that I'm going to come to you henceforth for
everything. But you're too wonderful," he wound up as she at first said
nothing to this. "I don't even frighten you."

"Yes--fortunately for you."

"Ah but I distinctly warn you that I mean to do my very best for it!"

Nanda viewed it all with as near an approach to gaiety as she often
achieved. "Well, if you should ever succeed it would be a dark day for
you."

"You bristle with your own guns," he pursued, "but the ingenuity of
a lifetime shall be devoted to my taking you on some quarter on which
you're not prepared."

"And what quarter, pray, will that be?"

"Ah I'm not such a fool as to begin by giving you a tip!" Mitchy on this
turned off with an ambiguous but unmistakeably natural sigh; he looked
at photographs, he took up a book or two as Vanderbank had done, and for
a couple of minutes there was silence between them. "What does