She touched his fingers with her own, bowed slightly to the Professor, and left them. 'My dear boy,' said the Professor, when the door was shut, 'I foresee a great opportunity. And as for that sermon you spoke of----' 'Well, Professor?' 'You may begin to compose it as soon as you please, and on the road I will help you. Meantime, hold your tongue.' With these enigmatic words the Professor left him. * * * * * There was really nothing very remarkable in Lord Chester's leaving London even at the height of the season. Most of the athletic meetings were over; it was better to be in the country than in town: a young man of two-and-twenty is not supposed to take a very keen delight in dinner-parties. Had it not been for the Appeal and the way in which people occupied themselves in every kind of gossip over Lord Chester--what he said, how he looked, and what he hoped--he might have left town without the least notice being taken. As it was, his departure gave rise to the wildest rumours, not the least wild being that the Duchess, or, as some said, the Countess, intended to follow and carry him off from his country house. Without troubling themselves about rumours and alarms of this kind, the Professor and her pupil drove away in the forenoon of Monday. The air was clear and cool; there was a fresh breeze, a warm sun, and a sky flecked with light clouds. The leaves on the trees were at their best, the four horses were in excellent condition. What young fellow of two-and-twenty would have felt otherwise than happy at starting on a holiday away from the restraints of town, and in such weather? 'There is only one thing wanting,' he said, as they finally cleared the houses, and were bowling along the smooth highroad between hedges bright with the flowers of early summer. 'What is that?' asked the Professor. 'Constance,' he replied boldly; 'she ought to be with us to complete my happiness.' The Professor laughed. 'A most unmanly remark,' she said. 'How can you reconcile it with the precepts of morality? Have you not been taught the wickedness of expressing, even of allowing yourself to feel an inclination for any young lady?' 'It is your fault, my dear Professor. You have taught me so much, that I have left off thinking of unmanliness and immodesty and the copy-book texts.' 'I have taught you,' she replied gravely, 'things enough to hang myself and send you to the Tower for life. But remember--remember--that you have been taught these things with a purpose.' 'What purpose?' he asked. 'I began by making you discontented. I allowed you to discover that everything is not so certain as boys are taught to believe. I put you in the way of reading, and I opened your mind to all sorts of subjects generally concealed from young men.' 'You certainly did, and you are a most crafty as well as a most beneficent Professor.'