Shortly afterwards we took our leave, but not until Maitland had been reminded by the lady's appearance of a certain charming woman of whom he had seen a good deal at one time in years gone by, who, womanlike, had been unable to understand the claims which the intellectual life make on a man, and who had, in consequence, believed him cold and quarrelled with him to his great regret, because it was impossible for him to dance attendance on her as she expected, and as he would gladly have done had he been a man of leisure. Having warned us young tyros against the danger of frankness in all dealings with women, and how often it had got him into hot water with the sex, he bade us good evening. As we came out we saw across the court that the melon had been taken in, so judged that Parker had returned. He had. We were so tickled by the way Maitland had accounted for the roses that we quite forgot to score off Parker about them, and actually told him what Maitland supposed. Barrett then suggested that we should at once form a committee to deliberate on the situation. Parker and I did not quite see why a committee was necessary to laugh at old Maitland, but we agreed. "Did you really see the woman he means, or were you only pulling Maitland's leg?" I asked. "I saw her all right," retorted Barrett. "Don't you remember, Parker, how I nudged you when she passed." Parker nodded. "She was such a picture that I asked who she was, and found she was a high school mistress, the niece of old Cooper, the vet. She is going to be married to a schoolmaster, and go out to Canada with him. I don't mind owning I was rather smitten myself, or I should not have taken the trouble." "She has left Cambridge," said Parker slowly. "When I got out of the train half-an-hour ago she was getting in. Cooper was seeing her off." "Oh, don't--don't tell poor old Maitland," I broke in. "Let him go on holding out his chest and thinking she sent him the roses. It won't matter to her, if she is off to Canada, and never coming back any more. And it will do him such a lot of good." "I don't mean to tell him--immediately," said Barrett ominously. "I think with you he ought to have his romance. Now I know she is safely gone forever, though I don't mind owning it gives me a twinge to think she is throwing herself away on a schoolmaster: but as she really can't come back and raise a dust, gentlemen, I lay a proposal before the committee, that the lady who sent the roses should follow them up with a little note." The committee agreed unanimously, and we decided, at least Barrett decided, that he should compose the letter, and Parker, who was rather good at a feigned handwriting, should copy it out. Parker and I wanted Barrett to make the letter rather warm, and saying something complimentary about Maitland's appearance, but Barrett would not hear of it. I did not see where the fun came in if it was just an ordinary note, but Barrett was adamant. He said he had an eye on the future.