He glanced towards me in his careless fashion. “This is quite the pleasantest thing that could have happened. I’ve often thought about the drive to Woadley and wondered whether we three should ever meet all together again.” Then, turning to Ruthita, “Your brother’s so secretive, Miss Cardover. He never breathed a word about your coming.” “My sister’s name is not Cardover,” I corrected him. He drew himself to his full height languidly. “I must apologize for having misnamed you, Miss--Miss----” “My name is Favart,” put in Ruthita. “Isn’t it strange,” he asked, “that a brother and sister should be named differently?” Then I had another illustration of how he could draw out women’s confidence. Ruthita had just run three miles in the opposite direction to avoid him, yet here she was eagerly telling him many things that were most intimate--all about her father and the Siege of Paris, and how I climbed the wall and discovered her, and how we had run off to get married and stayed with the gipsies in the forest. The tea-boy came and set crumpets and muffins down by the hearth. I lit the lamp. Still they went on talking, referring to me occasionally, but paying little heed to my presence. The bell began to toll for Hall. Halloway rose. “How long are you going to be in Oxford, Miss Favart?” “That depends on Dante, and how long he will have me. “Then you’re staying a little while?” “Yes.” “I ask, because I’d like to take Cardover and yourself out driving. I have my horses in Oxford and you ought to see some of the country.” “That depends on Dante.” “We’ll talk it over to-morrow,” I said brusquely. For the next few days, wherever we went we were unaccountably coming across Halloway. He always expressed surprise at meeting us, and always made himself delightful after we had met. If we walked out to Cumnor, or Sandford or Godstow, it made no difference in which direction, we were sure to hear the sharp trit-trotting of his tandem, and to see his high red dog-cart gaining on us above the hedges. Then he would rein up, with a display of amazed pleasure at these repeated accidents, and insist on our mounting beside him. Ruthita told me that she was annoyed at the way he broke up our privacy; but her annoyance was saved entirely for his absence. In his company she allowed him to absorb her. I had accompanied Ruthita back to the _Mitre_, where she was staying. It was her last night. On returning to my rooms, I found Halloway waiting. I was surprised, for the hour was late. I noticed that his manner was unusually serious and pre-occupied for such an habitual trifler. When I had mixed him a whiskey and soda, I sat down and watched him. He tapped his teeth with his thumbnail. I grew restless. “What is it?” I asked. “Something on your mind?” “Don’t know how to express it. You’ve made it difficult for me.” “How?”