She thought: 'I wish George would leave this place to-day. This man makes me most uncomfortable. I do not know what he means, and I don't see why he cannot let me alone. I shall avoid a _tête-à-tête_ with him in future. What can the meaning be of all he said to me? Perhaps it is a scientific experiment of some kind; perhaps he wants to find out something about the human mind. I shouldn't mind it a bit if 'twas that. I wish George would take Marie and me down to Stratford to-morrow. I never met anyone like Mr Nevill before; he frightens me, and yet I am not afraid of him. I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt me, and yet he invented that story about my thinking him a fool. I don't think him a bit a fool; I think him very clever, like George, only his cleverness runs in a different way. I wonder what is this other thing he has to say to me; I wonder will he say it soon? I wish George would come back. How fond of George Marie must be! It must be very strange to be fond of any man not your brother. But Marie has no brother; she must be very fond of George, for she has no brother to divide her affection with. I wonder is she afraid of George, and does he set her riddles and tell her he'll ask her another question another day? I wonder is there any likelihood of George going home soon? He will go home at Easter, of course; but I mean before that.' Miss Osborne took up a book, and Nevill went to the piano and rattled off airs from comic operas, now and then addressing a word or two about music to Miss Osborne. He could play tolerably well any slap-dash music, but could not sing. The door opened, and a servant entered. 'Miss Gordon?' 'She is not here,' answered Kate. 'A gentleman wants to see her, miss, and I don't know where she is.' 'Have you tried the other rooms?' 'Yes, miss.' 'You'd better take the gentleman's name, and say she is out' 'When I asked him for his name to take up, he said she would not know it.' The servant shut the door. In a minute she returned and brought word the gentleman had gone, but would return in a little while. In the afternoon Marie and Osborne came back. Nevill was a little shy for a few minutes, but then turned the conversation in a new channel. He noticed something peculiar about the two. 'I can't make it out,' he thought, while Miss Gordon had gone to take off her hat and coat, and Osborne was speaking to his sister. 'I can't make it out. They went away looking anything but jolly. He looked worn and anxious, and she seemed disconcerted by his manner. They have been out an hour or two, and they come back as calm and collected as if they were brother and sister, not lovers. There is what I call a domestic look about them. Osborne appears as if he had nothing more important on his mind than the quarter's bills. I never saw so great a change in so short a time. By Jove! it can't be they have gone and got married on the quiet! No, no; Osborne isn't the man to do that.'