In Mrs. Cartwright's case, the Charm was not working as swiftly as in the case of Miss Walsh. She seemed, so far, on the same terms with the Professor that she had always been; as ready to listen to his interpretations of Welsh names--"Olwen," for instance, meaning "White Track," and belonging to a maid of Celtic mythology in whose path daisies were wont to spring up--as interested in his special subjects. As friendly at table d'hôte or in the evenings; yes, as friendly ... but no more so! At their age, Olwen thought, people strolled into Love, perhaps, instead of falling into it, as they did at nineteen. In her own case, she thought--and she hugged the thought!--the Charm did seem to be working. Not at that perilous speed with which it had served Miss Agatha Walsh; not yet with results which meant these definite and pole-axing announcements! Still ... wasn't it working a little? Without looking at him, the girl had several times been aware that Captain Ross's dark quick glance had sought her out as soon as she appeared, and that it had followed her as she went out. Several times since the encounter in the hall, when she had told him that he "didn't know everything about girls," he had stopped to talk to her; always to "rag" her with some question or comment. But he had stopped. Often she thought: "That means nothing! He never could think of me seriously. Why should he?" Then again she felt that a time must come when he would stop longer, say more. She waited for that time, outwardly indifferent, just as a branch studded with the brown scentless swellings of mid-winter waits for the spring that shall see them break into sweetest buds. She waited, fixing her bright gaze upon some point beyond her idol's broad shoulder as she answered his greeting with some snippy girlish flippancy, while her heart whispered--ah! what volumes of tenderness. She just waited; biding her time as a girl needs must, whether or not she knows of some secret Charm that backs her power. She waited ... but now waiting and secret watching, uttered retort and unuttered yearning, were all alike tinged with a new apprehension. That Charm! What unexpected way of its own was it going to take _next_? CHAPTER IX UNFORSEEN EFFECTS OF THE CHARM "Does the wood-pecker flit round the young ferash? Does the grass clothe a new-built wall? Is she under thirty, the woman who holds a boy in her thrall?" Kipling. It would have been a shock to little Olwen had she realized what other result of the Charm was manifesting itself already at that moment. Probably the first, imperceptible manifestations would have been lost upon this quite young girl.