Every day his infatuation, for it was nothing less, seemed to grow stronger. While coquetting with him, and leading him on to believe that she really did care a little for him in her heart, she was careful to restrain all lover-like familiarities within the smallest possible limits. She could not prevent his pressing her hand now and then, and she even schooled herself into letting him once and again, and as an immense favour, touch the tips of her fingers with his lips. But that was all. Never once was his arm allowed to insinuate itself round her waist. Never once would she sit alone in the room with him for even five minutes. Her father, infirm and deaf as he was, or appeared to be, was always there--a power to be appealed to should the necessity for such an appeal ever arise. Van Duren growled a little occasionally at being so persistently forced to keep his distance; but Miriam was as obdurate as a flint. "I don't believe you have a heart!" he said to her, rather savagely, one night, after she had refused to let him kiss even the tips of her fingers. "I thought you told me only ten minutes ago that I was the happy possessor of yours," she said, demurely. "Pshaw! You know well enough what I mean. In any case, you can't be possessed of much feeling." "I pricked my finger this morning, and it seemed to me that my feelings were very acute indeed. But doubtless you know best." "I wonder whether you have anything beyond the very vaguest idea of what it is to love." "Are you not doing your best to teach me? And do you not find me an apt pupil?" "On the contrary, you are uncommonly dull." "My natural stupidity, doubtless. But then, you know, some people set up for being teachers who have no right to the name." "In the present case the teacher's lessons are treated with contempt." "The teacher expects his pupil to read before she has properly learned to spell; expects, too, to be paid for his services before he has earned his first quarter's salary." Miriam's tongue had a readiness about it that Van Duren could not match, and in such encounters he was invariably worsted. He liked Miriam all the better in that she was ready of speech and quick of tongue. This bright, clever girl would be his own property before long, and it could not but redound to his credit that his wife should not only have the good looks which go so often without brains, but that she should be keen-witted into the bargain--a woman whom he could introduce to his friends with pride, and with the knowledge that they would envy him his new-found treasure. Presently Mr. Van Duren's birthday came round, and nothing would satisfy him on this occasion but that he should drive Miriam and her father down to Greenwich, and that they should all dine together at the "Ship." As he wished, so it was agreed.