He got as pale as he had been red. "Are you trying to make it impossible for us to remain under the same roof?" he demanded. What a spoiled stupid! "I'm sure, sir," said I, and I think my eyes must have shown what an unpleasant mood his hinted threat had put me in, "that I'm not even succeeding in making it impossible for us to remain in my private office at the same time. Do you understand me, or do you wish me to make my meaning--" He had given a sort of snort and had rushed from the room. I suppose I ought to be more charitable toward him. A small person, brought up to regard himself as a sort of god, and able to buy flattery, and permitted to act precisely as his humors might suggest--what is to be expected of such a man? No, not a man but boy, for he's only twenty-six. _Only_ twenty-six! One would think I was forty to hear me talking in that way of twenty-six. But women always seem older than men who are even many years older than they. And how having to earn my own bread has aged me inside! I think Jessie was right when she said in that solemn way of hers, "And although, dear Augusta, they may think you haven't brains enough, I assure you you'll develop them." Poor, dear Jessie! How she would amuse herself if she could be as she is, and also have a sense of humor! At any rate, Mr. Bucyrus came striding back after half an hour, and, rather surlily but with a certain grudging manliness, said: "I beg your pardon, Miss Talltowers, for what I said. I am ashamed of my having forgotten myself and made that tyrannical speech to you." "Thank you, sir," said I, without raising my eyes. "You are most gracious." "And I hope," he went on, "that you will try to treat me as an equal." "It'll be very hard to do that, sir," said I. And I lifted my eyes and let him see that I was laughing at him. He shifted uneasily, red and white by turns. "I think you understand me," he muttered. "Perfectly," said I. He waved his arm impatiently. "Please don't!" he exclaimed rather imperiously. "I could have got my mother to--" "I hope you won't complain of me to your mother," I pleaded. He flushed and snorted, like a horse that is being teased by a fly it can reach with neither teeth, hoofs nor tail. "You know I didn't mean that. I'm not an utter cad--now, don't say, 'Aren't you, sir?'" "I had no intention of doing so," said I. "In fact I've been trying to make allowances for you--for your mother's sake. I appreciate that you've been away from civilization for a long time. And I'm sure we shall get on comfortably, once you've got your bearings again." He was silent, stood biting his lips and looking out of the window. Presently, when I had resumed my work, he said in an endurable tone and manner: "I hope you will be kind enough to include me in that admirable social scheme of yours. Are those your books?"