'Will he be long gone?' she asked tremulously. 'Perhaps he's at lecture. I must sit down and wait for him.' Gillespie motioned her into a chair, and instinctively pulled a few things straight in the room to receive a lady. 'Well, to tell you the truth,' he said, 'Plantagenet's gone down this morning to Chiddingwick. I--I beg your pardon, but I suppose you're his sister.' Maud let herself drop into the chair he set for her, with a despondent gesture. 'Gone to Chiddingwick! Oh, how unfortunate!' she cried, looking puzzled. 'What am I ever to do? This is really dreadful!' And, indeed, the situation was sufficiently embarrassing; for she had run up in haste, on the spur of the moment, when she received Dick's letter threatening instant return, without any more money than would pay her fare one way, trusting to Dick's purse to frank her back again. But she didn't mention these facts, of course, to the young man in Dick's rooms, with the blue-and-white boating jacket, who sat and looked hard at her with profound admiration, reflecting to himself, meanwhile, how very odd it was of Plantagenet never to have given him to understand that his sister was beautiful! For Maud was always beautiful, in a certain delicate, slender, shrinking fashion, though she had lots of character; and her eyes, red with tears, and her simple little black dress, instead of spoiling her looks, somehow served to accentuate the peculiar charms of her beauty. She sat there a minute or two, wondering what on earth to do, while Gillespie stood by in respectful silence. At last she spoke. 'Yes, I'm his sister,' she said simply, raising her face with a timid glance towards the strange young man. 'Did Dick tell you when he was coming back? I'm afraid I must wait for him.' 'I don't think he'll be back till rather late,' Gillespie answered, with sympathy. 'He took his name off Hall. That means to say,' he added in explanation, 'he won't be home to dinner.' Maud considered for a moment in doubt. This was really serious. Then she spoke once more, rather terrified. 'He won't stop away all night, I suppose?' she asked, turning up her face appealingly to the kindly-featured stranger. For what she could do in that case, in a strange, big town, without a penny in her pocket, she really couldn't imagine. Gillespie's confident answer reassured her on that head. 'Oh no; he won't stop away,' he replied, 'for he hasn't got leave; and he wouldn't be allowed to sleep out without it. But he mayn't be back, all the same, till quite late at night--perhaps ten or eleven. It would be hardly safe for you, I think, to wait on till then for him. I mean,' he added apologetically, 'it might perhaps be too late to get a train back to Chiddingwick.' Maud looked down and hesitated. She perused the hearthrug. 'I think,' she said at last, after a very long pause, 'you must be Mr. Gillespie.'