"Oh, you're hopeless," Gay rejoined, and there the argument ended for the time being, much to the Professor's satisfaction. A remarkably handsome and intellectual-looking man, tall, but with a slight stoop, and with far-away, clear blue eyes that narrowed habitually whenever he looked at anything, possibly through years of close microscopic work, Frank Lawless had a personality (if an untidy one, as Gay said) that compelled people to ask, "Who is that man?" He seldom left his laboratory and books, though occasionally Gay prevailed upon him to accompany her to some function or other, when he donned a dress-suit of archaic pattern, and, after spoiling a dozen ties, and wandering miserably in and out of his sister's room to ask if "this will do?" waited patiently in the hall, with an obsolete opera-hat held gingerly in one hand, the while he read from a scientific treatise held close to his eyes in the other. A habit of standing first on one leg, and then on the other, had earned him the nickname of "Heron," and it was thus disrespectfully, but affectionately, that his sister usually addressed him. A man of unbounded possibilities, but indifferent achievements, only a total lack of ambition and enterprise prevented his rolling the ball still at his feet, but, as it was, he had never improved on the fame that came to him when quite a young man. "The first man in England on his subject," was what his colleagues said of him, "but doesn't seem to push his opportunities; nice fellow, too!" while Frank Lawless himself, after a merciless tirade from Gay, would remark: "My dear, I have used my brains to the best of my ability. My name is not unknown, and there are some eminent men who seek my opinion still, and value it. I do not wish to become a public character--to be obscure is to be happy--why not leave me to the work I love? I do not remember an instance in which I have interfered with you, though I must confess that some of your exploits--notably hunting, a practice I detest--have caused me some anxiety. Live and let live, my child," and waving a hand that clasped a test-tube, the Professor would flee to the safety of the laboratory, to which haven Gay never intruded, the smells were too awful, she said. Since the death of their parents, Gay had taken up her abode with her brother in London. The girl was really very fond of him, and though they had few tastes in common, she thought it her duty, as well as her pleasure, to look after him, and, as she expressed it, "dress and wash him up generally." The arrangement answered admirably. Gay was free as air to go where she liked, and do what she pleased, while the Professor followed his own pursuits, and took a secret delight in being well taken care of, without having to suffer the infliction of a wife.