"Yes, I would. I wish to become superficially monotonous. I'm too varied; I realise that. I want to resemble that make-up I wore----" "That! Goodness! What a horrid idea----" "Horrid? Didn't you like it well enough to net me?" "I--there was nothing expressive of my personal taste in my capturing you--I mean the kind of a man you appeared to be. It was my duty--a purely scientific matter----" "I don't care what it was. You went after me. You wouldn't go after me as I now appear. I want you to tell me what is lacking in me which would prevent you going after me again--from a purely scientific standpoint." She sat breathing irregularly, rather rapidly, pretty head bent, apparently considering her hands, which lay idly in her lap. Then she lifted her blue eyes and inspected him. And it was curious, too, that, now when she came to examine him, she did not seem to discover any faults. "My nose doesn't suit you, does it?" he asked candidly. "Why, yes," she said innocently, "it suits me." "That's funny," he reflected. "How about my ears?" "They seem to be all right," she admitted. "Do you think so?" "They seem to me to be perfectly good ears." "That's odd. What _is_ there queer about my face?" She looked in vain for imperfections. "Why, do you know, Mr. Langdon, I don't seem to notice anything that is not entirely and agreeably classical." "But--my legs are thin." "Not very." "Aren't they too thin?" "Not _too_ thin. . . . Perhaps you might ride a bicycle for a few days----" "I will!" he exclaimed with a boyish enthusiasm which lighted up his face so attractively that she found it fascinating to watch. "Do you know," she said slowly, "the chances are that I would have netted you anyway. It just occurred to me." "Without my make-up?" he asked, in delighted surprise. "I think so. Why not?" she replied, looking at him with growing interest. "I don't see anything the matter with you." "My chest improver exploded," he ventured, being naturally honest. "_I_ don't think you require it." "Don't you? That is the nicest thing you ever said to me." "It's only the truth," she said, flushing a trifle in her intense interest. "And, as far as your legs are concerned, I really do not believe you need a bicycle or anything else. . . . In fact--in fact--_I_ don't see why you shouldn't go with me to the University if--if you--care to----" "You darling!" "Mr. Langdon! Wh-what a perfectly odd thing to s-say to me!" "I didn't mean it," he said with enthusiasm; "I really didn't mean it. What I meant was--you know--don't you?" She did not reply. She was absorbed in contemplating one small thumb. "I'm all ready to go," he ventured. She said nothing. "Shall we?" She looked up, looked into his youthful eyes. After a moment she rose, a trifle pale. And he followed beside her through the sun-lit woods. [Illustration] [Illustration] VIII