"How sweet," sighed Emily, who liked the foreign title. But when alone she cast her eyes round the room, and mentally decided that Bocaros was even harder up than she expected to find him. Emily was a shrewd girl where her vanity was not concerned, and had no notion of throwing herself away. Unless she knew for certain that Bocaros was a baron and that the money would really come to him, she decided that she would never permit him to make her his wife. She was fond of fine dress, in which her wages did not permit her to indulge. Already she was in debt, and should the professor propose she knew not how she would be able to get a trousseau together worthy of the occasion. "But I can get Fanny to help," thought the astute Emily. Fanny was Mrs. Varney. "She will do anything when she hears I have decided to marry a foreign nobleman like Count Fosco in the _Woman in White!_" which comparison was rather hard on the guileless Bocaros. Shortly he returned with a cup of tea. Emily accepted the attention graciously. But the tea was inferior, the china was thick, so she made a wry face and drank very little of the comforting beverage. The professor did not notice her distaste. He closed the window, drew the threadbare curtains and lighted the lamp. Having made the room as comfortable as was possible he sat down and poked the fire into a brighter blaze, then smiled cheerfully at Miss Doon. She was secretly amazed at the result produced by her visit in the man's looks. He appeared to be years younger--there was a colour in his face, a softer light in his aggressive eyes, and his demeanour was almost gay. She thought that if he were better dressed and had more flesh on his poor bones, he might be a handsome man after a sort. She might do worse than marry him, always presuming that he really had a title, and was possessed--in the near future--of money. "You have no idea what pleasure it gives me to see you seated at my poor hearth," said Bocaros, smiling brightly. "It's very nice," replied Emily, also smiling. "But I suppose some day you will be able to afford a better house?" "I might. One never knows, as you English say. And were I rich, do you know what I should do?" "Marry, I suppose. When a gentleman has a house he always looks for a lady to share it." "The difficulty is to get the lady." "Oh, really, sir, in your case there should be no difficulty." Bocaros brightened still more. "Do you really think so, mademoiselle? I am old, I am poor, I have no position, and----" "But a baron has a position!" "Who told you I was a baron?" asked Bocaros suspiciously. "Mr. Jasher, your man of business. Isn't it true?" "Yes," said the Greek slowly, and with his eyes on the fire, "it is strictly true. I am a baron in my country, as I come of a noble family. But I dropped the title when I came to teach in England. Yes! I told Jasher I was a baron. How did he come to tell you?"