“Do you think so?” I exclaimed. “That would be too good! The woman-hater! Capital!” “Stranger things have happened. Did you not see how he blushed just now? But as to the Don, do you know he is a greater mystery to me now than ever? Every woman instinctively knows what a man’s looks mean.” “Well, what did the Don’s glances signify?” “I cannot for the life of me imagine.” “What! Although every woman instinctively knows, and so forth.” “Ah,” said she, smiling, “I meant that they always knew when the looks meant—pshaw! you know very well what I mean.” “You would have me to understand that the Don’s looks, though they meant something, did not mean nascent love.” “Yes. Do you not remember that sudden and intense look he gave me when we met him on the sidewalk? Well, when I came to turn that incident over in my mind I came to the conclusion that he mistook me for some one else. Now I am all at sea again. He knows, now, that I am Lucy Poythress, and not any one else.” “Naturally.” “Don’t be silly,—and still—” “And still?” “And yet—oh, you know what I mean.” “Upon my word I do not.” “Well, he seemed to me to be studying me as a kind of problem,—no, not that,—he appeared—ah, this is my idea—he seemed to me to survey me just as I have seen mothers look at their sons after a session’s absence. ‘Has he grown? Has he changed? Has he improved?’ Do I make myself clear?” “Perfectly.” “What are you laughing at? What do I mean, then?” “I gather from all you say that your impression is that this Mystery, this Enigma, this Sphinx, this Don Miff—longs to be a mother to you.” “Mr. W-ha-c-k-e-r!” I could never understand why a man must not laugh at his own witticisms; and my hilarity on this occasion immediately drew the other girls and Mrs. Carter into the front parlor, where Lucy and I were sitting. By rapidly interposing a succession of chairs between that young woman and myself, I succeeded in giving the ladies an enlarged and profusely illustrated edition of Lucy’s views of the state of the Don’s feelings and intentions in regard to herself, when, seizing my hat, I fled, leaving the three girls in uproarious glee, and Mrs. Carter collapsed in an arm-chair, weeping, while voiceless laughter rippled along her rotund form. As I passed in front of the window Lucy’s head appeared. “Say your prayers twice to-night,” said she. CHAPTER XV. “Jack,” said Charley that night at my rooms, “have you any message for the old gentleman? I am off for home to-morrow.” “Indeed! Why this sudden resolution?” “Too many people in Richmond for me.” “It seems to me that you like some of them a good deal. Isn’t she bright?”