Time after time his mind mechanically began that day again, drifted through the sequence of events, minute by minute, leading him at length to where he now was seated,--but only to recommence again from the beginning. About two o’clock he fell asleep, his boyish nose touching the clove-pink. When his head sagged to a more uncomfortable position he awoke, got out of his clothes and went to sleep in the proper place. * * * * * The first thing he did after he awoke was to unhook the telephone receiver: “Is it you, Eris?” Then a perfectly damning sequence of solicitous inquiries--the regulation and inevitable gamut concerning the young lady’s health, night’s repose, condition of mind, physical symptoms. Followed a voluntary statement regarding the day before and his intense pleasure in it; then a diffident inquiry, and a hope expressed that she, also, might have found the day not insupportably unpleasant;--surprise and pleasure to learn that she, too, had considered the day “wonderful.” “Could I see you to-day?” he asked. But she had her hands full, it appeared. “I’ll try to get away after dinner,” she said. “Would you telephone about nine-thirty, Mr. Annan?” “It’s a long time--all right, then!” “I may not be able to get away,” she said. “Don’t let me spoil your evening----” “I had _rather_ be with you.” Fluency seemed no longer his: “That’s--that’s jolly of you--awfully nice of you, Eris,--most kind.... I’ll call your apartment at nine-thirty, if I may.” “If I can’t get away,” she said, “could we see each other to-morrow?” “At _any_ hour, Eris!” “But--your work----” “That’s quite all right. I can always fit that in.” “You shouldn’t. You should fit _me_ in----” “Nonsense!” “But _I_ shall have to do that, too, when we begin work----” “I understand that. When may I see you to-morrow, if you can’t see me this evening?” “Will you come to tea?” “Yes, if I can’t come earlier.” She laughed--a distant, gay little laugh--a new sound from her lips, born quite unexpectedly the day before to surprise them both. “You make our friendship so easy,” she said. “You quite reverse conditions. I’m happy and _grateful_ that you are coming to tea----” His unconsidered and somewhat impetuous reply seemed to confuse Eris. There was a silence, then: “That’s the truth,” he repeated; “--it _is_ a privilege to be with you.” Her voice came, a little wistful, yet humourously incredulous: “You say such kind things, Mr. Annan.... Thank you.” * * * * * With a buoyant sense of having begun the day right, Annan took a noisy bath, ate every scrap of breakfast, and sat down before his desk in lively spirits, when Mrs. Sniffen had finished with his quarters. “Xantippe,” he said gaily, “do you know that little Miss Odell has become a very clever and promising professional?” “That baby, sir?” “That child. What do you think of that, Xantippe?” Mrs. Sniffen’s countenance became grim: