"Can't be done, I'm afraid. The race finishes miles from Ditton, where you will be; and I shouldn't be able to get back in time. You had better drive home with the others." "When shall I see you again, then?" demanded Miss Gaymer, who was not of an age to be reticent about the trend of her virgin affections. "About seven. You are all coming to dine in my rooms." "Ooh!" exclaimed his companion in a flutter of excitement. "How long can I sit up?" "Ask Mrs. Ames," replied the diplomatic Hughie. "Till _ten_?" hazarded Joey, with the air of one initiating a Dutch auction. "Don't ask _me_, old lady." "Supposing," suggested Miss Gaymer craftily, "that you was to say you wanted me to sit up and keep you company?" Hughie laughed. "Afraid that wouldn't work. I have to go out about nine to a Bump Supper." "What's that?" "A College supper, in honour of the men who have been rowing." "I like suppers," said Miss Gaymer tentatively. Hughie smiled. "I don't think you'd like this one, Joey," he said. "Why? Don't they have any sixpences or thimbles in the t'ifle?" said Miss Gaymer, in whose infant mind the word supper merely conjured up a vision of sticky children, wearing paper caps out of crackers, distending themselves under adult supervision. "I don't think they _have_ any trifle." "Perfectly p'eposte'ous!" commented Miss Gaymer with heat. (I think it has already been mentioned that she spent a good deal of her time in the company of Jimmy Marrable.) "Ices?" "Let me see. Yes--sometimes." "Ah!" crooned Joey, with a happy little sigh. "_Can't_ I come?" "Afraid not, madam. Bump Suppers are for gentlemen only." "I should like that," said madam frankly. "And they are rather noisy. You might get frightened." "Not if I was sitting alongside of you," was the tender reply. Joey's anxiety for his company renewed Hughie's depression of spirits. Admiration and confidence are very desirable tributes to receive; but when they come from every quarter save the right one the desirability of that quarter is only intensified. Poor human nature! Hughie sighed again in a manner which caused the entire canoe to vibrate. Miss Gaymer suddenly turned the conversation. "What was that person talking to you about, Hughie?" she inquired. "Who?" "That person that came with us in the t'ain. Miss--" Joey's mouth twisted itself into a hopeless tangle. "Freshwater?" said Hughie, reddening. "Yes. When you were taking us round the Co'ege after lunch you and her stayed behind on the top of the Chapel, while the rest of us were coming down. When I was waiting for you, I heard her say: 'You're the first to hear of it, Hughie.' To hear of what?" Hughie looked genuinely disturbed. "I don't know whether she wants it known yet, Joey," he said. Miss Gaymer assumed an expression before which she knew that most gentlemen of her acquaintance, from Uncle Jimmy down to the coachman at home, were powerless. "Hughie dear, you'll tell _me_, won't you?" she said.