He shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps you are right,” he said. “I would not tell you mine if you asked me.” “I have not the slightest intention of asking you.” “No? Then Smilash shall do for you, and Agatha will do for me.” “You had better take care.” “Of what?” “Of what you say, and--are you not afraid of being found out?” “I am found out already--by you, and I am none the worse.” “Suppose the police find you out!” “Not they. Besides, I am not hiding from the police. I have a right to wear corduroy if I prefer it to broadcloth. Consider the advantages of it! It has procured me admission to Alton College, and the pleasure of your acquaintance. Will you excuse me if I go on with my rolling, just to keep up appearances? I can talk as I roll.” “You may, if you are fond of soliloquizing,” she said, turning away as he rose. “Seriously, Agatha, you must not tell the others about me.” “Do not call me Agatha,” she said impetuously. “What shall I call you, then?” “You need not address me at all.” “I need, and will. Don’t be ill-natured.” “But I don’t know you. I wonder at your--” she hesitated at the word which occurred to her, but, being unable to think of a better one, used it--“at your cheek.” He laughed, and she watched him take a couple of turns with the roller. Presently, refreshing himself by a look at her, he caught her looking at him, and smiled. His smile was commonplace in comparison with the one she gave him in return, in which her eyes, her teeth, and the golden grain in her complexion seemed to flash simultaneously. He stopped rolling immediately, and rested his chin on the handle of the roller. “If you neglect your work,” said she maliciously, “you won’t have the grass ready when the people come.” “What people?” he said, taken aback. “Oh, lots of people. Most likely some who know you. There are visitors coming from London: my guardian, my guardianess, their daughter, my mother, and about a hundred more.” “Four in all. What are they coming for? To see you?” “To take me away,” she replied, watching for signs of disappointment on his part. They were at once forthcoming. “What the deuce are they going to take you away for?” he said. “Is your education finished?” “No. I have behaved badly, and I am going to be expelled.” He laughed again. “Come!” he said, “you are beginning to invent in the Smilash manner. What have you done?” “I don’t see why I should tell you. What have you done?” “I! Oh, I have done nothing. I am only an unromantic gentleman, hiding from a romantic lady who is in love with me.” “Poor thing,” said Agatha sarcastically. “Of course, she has proposed to you, and you have refused.” “On the contrary, I proposed, and she accepted. That is why I have to hide.” “You tell stories charmingly,” said Agatha. “Good-bye. Here is Miss Carpenter coming to hear what we are taking about.”