"Now you are pushing an unfair advantage. She thinks, probably, that it might hurt _me_. Really, _really_," she added urgently, "it isn't so serious as all this seems to make it. The one serious thing is that it _would_ hurt mamma, and that is why I make such a mountain out of my mole-hill. How mystery does magnify the tiniest things!" "Tell me, at least, where you go in the afternoon. I mean to what part of Paris, to what street." "I go to several streets," said Hilda, smiling resignedly, "since you _will_ be so curious." "Where are you going to-morrow? Give me just an idea of your prowess." "I go to-morrow to the Rue d'Assas." "Near the Luxembourg Gardens?" "Yes." "I fancied you were walking yourself to death. And next day?" "Next day--the Rue Poulletier." "And where may that be? I fancied I knew my Paris well." "It is a little street in the Île St. Louis. That is my favorite walk; home along the quays. I get the view of Notre Dame from the back, with all the flying buttresses, and the sunset beyond." "No wonder you are tired every night. You always walk?" "Usually. I have Palamon with me, and they would not take him in a 'bus. But from the Île St. Louis I often take the boat, and that is one of the treats of Paris, I think, especially when the lights are lit. And on some days I go to the Boulevard St. Germain. There; now you shall ask me no more questions." Odd made no further comment on the information he had received, but he resolved to be in the Rue d'Assas to-morrow. He did not intend to spy, but he did intend to walk home with Hilda, and to make her understand that one of the brotherly offices he claimed was the right to protecting companionship. He revolved the _rôle_ and its possibilities, as he lay back in the sofa watching Hilda's profile, and listening to Schumann--a _rôle_ that could, at all events, not last long, since Allan Hope arrived on Wednesday. Allan's arrival would put an end to mysteries, to a need for brotherly protection. Odd felt a certain curiosity on this point; indeed his attitude towards Hilda was one of continual curiosity. "So Allan Hope turns up Wednesday week," he said. "I shall be glad to see Allan again." Hilda's silence might imply displeasure, but Odd, in an attitude of manly laziness, one leg crossed over the other, one hand holding an ankle, thought a little gentle teasing quite allowable. "Will you go bicycling with him, unkind Hilda?" He was not prepared for the startled look she turned on him. "When I would not go with _you_?" Her own vehemence seemed to embarrass her. "I hardly know how to bicycle at all," she added lamely; "I would have gone with you if I had had time." She looked away again, and then, taking a book from the table beside her--