Coleman did not seem to mind the professor's formality. " Don't fear anything. Won't you sit down again? Will you have a cigar. * * No, I couldn't tell you how glad I am. How glad I am. I feel like a fool. It--" But the professor fixed him with an Arctic eye and bluntly said: " You love her ? " The question steadied Coleman at once. He looked undauntedly straight into the professor's face. He simply said: " I love her! " " You love her ? " repeated the professor. " I love her," repeated Coleman. After some seconds of pregnant silence, the professor arose. " Well, if she cares to give her life to you I will allow it, but I must say that I do not consider you nearly good enough. Good-night." He smiled faintly as he held out his hand. " Good-night, sir," said Coleman. " And I can't tell, you, now-" Mrs. Wainwright, in her room was languishing in a chair and applying to her brow a handkerch-ief wet with cologne water. She, kept her feverish glarice upon the door. Remembering well the manner of her husband when he went out she could hardly identify him when he came in. Serenity, composure, even self-satisfaction, was written upon him. He, paid no attention to her, but going to a chair sat down with a groan of contentment. " Well ? " cried Mrs. Wainwright, starting up. " Well ? " " Well-what ? " he asked. She waved her hand impatiently. " Harrison, don't be absurd. You know perfectly well what I mean. It is a pity you couldn't think of the anxiety I have been in." She was going to weep. "Oh, I'll tell you after awhile," he said stretching out his legs with the complacency of a rich merchant after a successful day. "No! Tell me now," she implored him. "Can't you see I've worried myself nearly to death?" She was not going to weep, she was going to wax angry. "Well, to tell the truth," said the professor with considerable pomposity, " I've arranged it. Didn't think I could do it at first, but it turned out " "I Arranged it,"' wailed Mrs. Wainwright. " Arranged what? " It here seemed to strike the professor suddenly that he was not such a flaming example for diplomatists as he might have imagined. " Arranged," he stammered. " Arranged ." " Arranged what? " " Why, I fixed-I fixed it up." " Fixed what up? " "It-it-" began the professor. Then he swelled with indignation. " Why, can't you understand anything at all? I-I fixed it." " Fixed what? " " Fixed it. Fixed it with Coleman." " Fixed what with Coleman? The professor's wrath now took control of him. "Thunder and lightenin' ! You seem to jump at the conclusion that I've made some horrible mistake. For goodness' sake, give me credit for a particle of sense." " What did you do? " she asked in a sepulchral voice. " Well," said the professor, in a burning defiance, " I'll tell you what I did. I went to Coleman and told him that once-as he of course knew-I had re- fused his marriage with my daughter, but that now---" " Grrr," said Mrs. Wainwright.