"I am sorry, Maynadier," he said. "I apologize to Miss Stirling and to you. I acted like a spoiled boy." "If Miss Stirling pardons you, mine goes with it," Maynadier replied. "You are a trifle impulsive in your judgment--sometime, it will lead you into trouble." "It is the sort of impulsiveness a woman can forgive," Miss Stirling said, and leaning for a moment on his arm. Which completely captured Herford--as she intended it should do--and made it a matter of indifference how much he saw. And Maynadier smiled in understanding, perceiving the play and its motive,--and, leaving them together, he went in search of Miss Marbury. He found her, somewhat later, coming from the park with Mrs. Plater, Miss Tyler, Constable and Paca. To his surprise, she greeted him with the old smile, and motioned him beside her. "She knows she is guilty, also," he thought, "and suspects that Miss Stirling has told me." "Well, I see, sir," she said, as they dropped behind the others, "that you have lost no time in securing instruction--and have made rare progress. I foretold that you would be the favorite pupil." He made no attempt at not comprehending--she had seen him, so, why dissemble? "There are other favorite pupils, also, it would seem," he remarked, significantly. "Sir Edward Parkington?" she laughed. He was not prepared for such candor; he was astonished, and his expression showed it. "I see you understand," he said. "Why should you be surprised?" she asked--"for you were surprised, Dick, or else I cannot read your face." "I _was_ surprised--that you should admit it." She looked at him, puzzled. "I am afraid I do _not_ understand," she said. "Admit it! Admit what?" "Sir Edward Parkington." Her frown deepened. "Have you been mixing the brandy and the wine?" He laughed, a bit scornfully. "Why admit, and then deny?" he asked. "Really, Dick, either I am woefully stupid, or else you speak in riddles." "You are not stupid, and neither do I speak in riddles," he said. "You admitted the Parkington matter, just as I admitted the Miss Stirling matter; because it is useless to deny it." "I admitted the Parkington matter?" she marvelled. "I was not aware I admitted anything. You said there were other favorite pupils, and I asked you--but without expecting an answer--if it were Parkington." He shook his head. "It will not do, Judith--the explanation is an afterthought." "Dick," she said, "I lose patience with you, sometimes--just what do you mean?" "I mean this: You saw me kiss Miss Stirling, did you not?" She nodded--but her eyes were straight ahead. "Well, Sir Edward Parkington kissed _you_, in the park--so, there is not much to choose between us." For a little while, she made no answer--then, she laughed, softly and musically. "Dick!" she said--"Dick! do you believe it?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Answer me--do you believe it?" He looked at her--eyes half closed, in contemplation--and made no reply.