dreadful friend."

Mrs. Lewin pushed up her veil. She was a typical May-term chaperon,
always pleasant, always hungry, and always tired. Year after year she
came up to Cambridge in a tight silk dress, and year after year she
nearly died of it. Her feet hurt, her limbs were cramped in a canoe,
black spots danced before her eyes from eating too much mayonnaise. But
still she came, if not as a mother as an aunt, if not as an aunt as a
friend. Still she ascended the roof of King's, still she counted the
balls of Clare, still she was on the point of grasping the organization
of the May races. "And who is your friend?" she asked.

"His name is Ansell."

"Well, now, did I see him two years ago--as a bedmaker in something they
did at the Foot Lights? Oh, how I roared."

"You didn't see Mr. Ansell at the Foot Lights," said Agnes, smiling.

"How do you know?" asked Rickie.

"He'd scarcely be so frivolous."

"Do you remember seeing him?"

"For a moment."

What a memory she had! And how splendidly during that moment she had
behaved!

"Isn't he marvellously clever?"

"I believe so."

"Oh, give me clever people!" cried Mrs. Lewin. "They are kindness itself
at the Hall, but I assure you I am depressed at times. One cannot talk
bump-rowing for ever."

"I never hear about him, Rickie; but isn't he really your greatest
friend?"

"I don't go in for greatest friends."

"Do you mean you like us all equally?"

"All differently, those of you I like."

"Ah, you've caught it!" cried Mrs. Lewin. "Mr. Elliot gave it you there
well."

Agnes laughed, and, her elbows on the table, regarded them both through
her fingers--a habit of hers. Then she said, "Can't we see the great Mr.
Ansell?"

"Oh, let's. Or would he frighten me?"

"He would frighten you," said Rickie. "He's a trifle weird."

"My good Rickie, if you knew the deathly dullness of Sawston--every
one saying the proper thing at the proper time, I so proper, Herbert
so proper! Why, weirdness is the one thing I long for! Do arrange
something."

"I'm afraid there's no opportunity. Ansell goes some vast bicycle ride
this afternoon; this evening you're tied up at the Hall; and tomorrow
you go."

"But there's breakfast tomorrow," said Agnes. "Look here, Rickie, bring
Mr. Ansell to breakfast with us at Buoys."

Mrs. Lewin seconded the invitation.

"Bad luck again," said Rickie boldly; "I'm already fixed up for
breakfast. I'll tell him of your very kind intention