One day, after the even-song at St. Joseph's, Stepton saw flit across the face of the curate, whom he was meeting, a flicker of something like fear. The two men passed each other, and immediately, like one irresistibly compelled, the professor looked back. As he did so, Chichester also turned round to spy upon this unknown. Encountering the gaze of the professor, he started, flushed scarlet, and pursued his way, walking with a quickened step. The professor went homeward, chuckling. "To-day's Tuesday," he thought. "By Saturday, at latest, he'll have spoken to me. He'll have to speak to me to relieve the tension of his nerve-ganglions." Chichester did not wait till Saturday. On Friday afternoon, coming suddenly upon Stepton at a corner, he stopped abruptly, and said: "May I ask if you want anything of me?" "Sir!" barked Stepton. "Mr. Chichester!" "You know my name?" said the curate. "And probably you know mine--Professor Stepton." A relief that was evidently intense dawned in the curate's face. "You are Professor Stepton! You are Mr. Malling's friend!" "Exactly. Good day." And the professor marched on. Chichester did not follow, but the next day, on the pavement not far from the museum, he stopped once more in front of the professor with a "Good afternoon." "Good day," said Stepton. "Since you know who I am," began the curate, "and I have heard so much of you, I hope you will forgive me for asking you something." "Certainly." "What is it in me which has attracted your attention?" "I wish I knew," returned the professor. "You wish you knew! Do you mean that you don't know?" "I don't know at all." "But--but--you--I was not wrong in feeling sure that you were--that something in me had aroused your attention?" "Not wrong at all; but 'something' is not the word." "What is the word?" "Everything. Everything in you rouses my attention, Mr. Chichester. But I can't think why." "Did you know I was Mr. Harding's curate the first time you met me?" "Yes; I had seen you at St. Joseph's once or twice when I came to hear your rector preach. You didn't interest me at all then, I'm bound to say." Chichester stood in silence for a minute. Then he said: "I might walk a little way back with you, if you have no objection." Stepton jerked his head in assent. And so the acquaintance of these two men was begun. Their first conversation was a delight to the professor. After a short silence the curate said: "I could not help seeing each time we have met how your attention was fastened upon me." "Just so," rejoined Stepton, making no apology. "And I really think," continued Chichester, with a sort of pressure--"I really think I am entitled to ask for some explanation of the matter." "Certainly you are." "Well?" He paused, then said again, "Well, Professor Stepton?" "I'm afraid I've nothing to tell you, I like to stick to facts." "I only ask you for facts."