Having stopped, Charles did not start again upon the instant: far from it. Friday's and Monday's run of luck had not been expected to keep up indefinitely, at the best. And Donald's blundering remark betraying his ruse had inevitably suggested the idea of experimenting a bit with opposite tactics, to wit: quietly turning his schedule backward, for variety's sake, and starting to lunch very late. Thus it was that Charles, having said all he had to say to the old lady, lingered to say it all again, and again, clinging verbosely to his oldest living pupil as it were, while one eye shot perpetually out the front window, close beside which he had taken up his position. For the third time, the old lady promised to be studious on her holiday. "Don't you remember how well I knew the plurals of the _-ou_ nouns yesterday?" said she, chipper as a boy. "Well, my husband had heard them every one to me the night before!--that was how I did it! Well, don't you see, I'll make him hear me the verbs every afternoon while he's taking his nap--over and over!" "Exactly, ma'am. Do just that. Have him hear them over and over--every afternoon. That's the only way really to master them--the only possible way. And as I say--be sure to take along your dictionary and your Fontaine's 'Fables,' and read three or four pages every day--except Sunday. I said that just now, I know. But, ma'am, it's one of those things that--ah--can't be said too often--" Here the tutor's eye, reconnoitering out the window again, fell upon a motor-car just coming to a standstill before the old lady's door. He started, nervously. But, of course, this was not the Fordette: it was five times too big, at least. And he said, in a quickened voice: "Whose car is that standing out there?" "Why, mine, of course! Eustace stops for orders before going down to bring my husband up and I just sign to him out of the window if there's nothing. Indeed I hoped you wouldn't make me read my 'Fables' while I was away, but I will if you say so, for of course I'm going to learn French. And you take care of yourself, young man. You haven't looked well to me for several days." "I'm not quite well, ma'am, I fear," said Charles. "I was just thinking I'd better let Eustace drive me down with him, if you don't mind. I--ah--scarcely feel like walking to-day." "Of course. And have him bring you up again when he takes my husband back, why don't you? My dear young man, I reproach myself. I'd have had him call for you at the Demings' and take you down every day, but you know you always said you loved to walk." "I did--I used to--but--ah--I rather think I've been overdoing it, of late. I've been walking more than is good for me. Well!--thank you very much. I'll go and get right in, shall I?"