"No," she answered coldly, "what I have to say can very well be said where I am, and it will be as well to get through with it at once. You will think it rather sudden no doubt after my note of Wednesday, but, as I told you, I have been subjected to a great deal of annoyance lately and what I experienced yesterday has decided me to put an end to the existing state of affairs. I regret having to spring this upon you so abruptly, and in the middle of a quarter too, but I wish you to understand that I cannot teach you any longer, I wish you to leave this Art School." St. John looked mystified and incredulous, he was astounded at her request, at the cold precision of her voice, and the apathy of her expression. He felt annoyed with her and not a little hurt. "May I enquire why you dismiss me thus suddenly?" he asked schooling himself to keep his vexation in check. "I should like to know what has induced you to act so precipitately." "No, you may not," Jill answered crossly; "I only took you on trial, remember." "For a quarter yes, but then the probation was over, and it is hardly etiquette to dismiss a pupil in the middle of a term without vouchsafing any reason." "I consider it quite sufficient that I do dismiss you," Miss Erskine responded. "We will not discuss the matter further, if you please." "Oh! yes, we will," he answered, his temper like her own beginning to get the upper hand. "In fact I refuse to leave without an alleged complaint before my term is expired; you are bound to give a proper notice." "Not if I expel you," Jill retorted. "Expel me!" he scoffed. "What would you expel me for? You couldn't do that without a reason." "But I have a reason." "A reason!" he repeated aghast, "a reason sufficient to expel me? What reason pray?" "Making love to me." Silence followed--a depressing silence during which neither of them moved. She had spoken in the heat of the moment, the next she could have bitten out her tongue for her indiscretion. St. John stared at her fully a minute. Then he smiled rudely. "Making love to you!" he repeated. "Absurd! I have never spoken a word of love to you in my life." It was true; he had not, and Jill's cup of humiliation was full. What had induced her to make such an egregious error? "You'll be running me in for breach of promise, I suppose?" he continued ruthlessly. "Don't you think that you're a little--a little--well, conceited to be so premature?" Jill turned upon him wrathfully. "How dare you speak to me like that?" she cried. "It is only what people think. For myself it wouldn't have mattered whether you had made love to me or not; I should soon have settled that." He changed from angry crimson to dead white, and gazed at her in hurt displeasure. "You mean that?" he asked. "Certainly," she answered with vindictive and unnecessary emphasis, "I am not in the habit of prevaricating."