“Wilfred!” cried the scandalised Mysie, “when it is all the other way, and he is ever so much too good for her.” “Consummate prig! The cheek of him pretending to a lady!” “But, Wilfred,” went on downright Mysie, “is it only mischief, or do you want to marry her yourself?” “Draw your own conclusions,” responded Wilfred, mounting his machine, and spinning down the hill faster than they could follow on foot. “What is to be done, Gill?” sighed Mysie. “Ought we to get mamma to speak to him?” “Better not,” said Gillian, with more experience. “It would only make it worse to take it seriously. Half of it is play—and half to tease you.” “And,” said Mysie, with due deference to the engaged sister, “how about Mr. Delrio? Will it make him unhappy?” “If he finds out in time what a horrid little thing it is, I should say it would be very well for him; but I don’t want Will to be the means.” “Oh! when his examination is over, and he gets an appointment, he will go away, and it will be safe.” “I have not much hopes of his getting in!” “Oh, Gill, none of us ever failed before.” On the side of the Goyle not much was known or cared about Wilfred’s little attentions, which were generally out of sight of Magdalen, and did not amount to much; but Paula saw enough of them to consult Agatha on, and to observe that Flapsy was going on just as she used to at Filsted, and she thought Hubert would not like it. “I believe Flapsy can’t live without it,” sighed Agatha. “But would you speak to her? I don’t think she ought to let him give her boxes of bonbons—to keep up in her room, and never give a hint to Maidie.” Agatha did speak but the effect was to set Vera into crying out at every one being so intolerably cross about such a trifle, Gillian Merrifield and all! “Did Gillian speak to you?” “Yes, as if she had any business to do so!” “I am sure it is not the way she would treat Captain Armitage.” “I don’t believe she cares for Captain Armitage one bit! You said yourself that all the girls at Oxford thought she cared much more for her horrid examination! I wouldn’t be a dry, cold-hearted, insensible stick like her for the world.” “Perhaps she is the more quietly in earnest,” said Agatha, repenting a little that she had told before Vera the college jokes over what had leaked out of Gillian’s reception of Ernley Armitage when he had hastened up to Oxford as soon as his ship was paid off, and she had been called down to him in the Lady Principal’s room. Report said that she had only prayed him to keep out of the way, and not to upset her brain, and that he had meekly obeyed—as one who knew what it was to have promotion depending on it.