Rash thought! It had scarcely passed through her mind before a voice behind her said-- "How do you do, Miss Maclean?" and looking round she saw two of her fellow-students, bag in hand. As ill-luck would have it, one of them was the only student of her own year with whom Mona had always found herself absolutely out of sympathy. This one it was who spoke. "It is a surprise to see you! Miss Reynolds said you were not coming back this winter." "Nor am I. I am only in town for a day or two." "Are you reading at home?" "At present I am not reading at all." "It seems a great pity." "Do you think so? I think it does us no harm to climb up occasionally on the ridge that separates our little furrow from all the others, and see what is going on in the rest of the field." "But you always did that, did you not? I thought you were a great authority on the uses of frivolling." "And you thought it a pity that the results of my examinations did not do more to bear out my teaching? Never mind. It is only one of the many cases in which a worthy cause has suffered temporarily in the hands of an unworthy exponent." The girl coloured. Mona's hypersensitive perception had read her thought very correctly. "We miss you dreadfully," put in the other student hastily. "I do wish you would come back." "I suppose," continued the first, glancing at the window before which they had met, "you are busy with your winter shopping. Regent Street has not lost its old attractions, though the Medical School has." "What would they say," thought Mona, "if I calmly told them the whole truth?--that I am, with the utmost care and economy, buying goods for a very small shop in Borrowness, behind the counter of which I have the honour of standing, and serving a limited, and not very enlightened, public." For a moment the temptation to "make their hair stand on end" was almost irresistible; but fortunately old habits of reserve are not broken through in a moment, and she merely said, "Oh no. It will be a serious symptom when Regent Street loses its attractions. That would indeed be a strong indication for quinine and cod-liver oil, or any other treatment you can suggest for melancholia. Good-bye, and success to you both!" She shook hands--rather cavalierly with the first, cordially with the second. "_You_ all right?" she asked quietly, as they parted. "Yes, thank you." "She _is_ queer," said the student who had spoken first, when Mona was out of hearing. "My private opinion is that she is going to be married. My brother saw her on board one of the Fjord steamers in Norway a month or two ago, with a very correct party; and he said a tall fellow 'with tremendous calves' was paying her a lot of attention." "Did your brother speak to her?" "No. He was much smitten with her at the last prize-giving, and wanted me to introduce him, but I did not get a chance. She knows a lot of people. I think she gives herself too many airs, don't you?"