“That is true,” he replied.  “And I love her with all my heart!”

“She ought never to have told you of that girlish fancy,” said his hostess.  “It was putting you in a very embarrassing position, and I am bound to say to you, Mr. Hemphill, that I also am very much to blame.  Knowing all this, as I did, I should not have allowed you to meet her.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” exclaimed Mr. Hemphill.  “Don’t say that!  Not for the world would I give up the memory of hearing her say she once loved me!  I don’t care how many years ago it was.  I am glad you let me come here.  I am glad she told me.  I shall never forget the happiness I have had in this house.  And now, Mrs. Easterfield, let me ask you one thing—­”

At this moment Mrs. Easterfield, who was facing the door, saw her husband enter the hall, and by his manner she knew he was looking for her.

“Excuse me,” she said to Hemphill, “I will be back in an instant.”

And she ran out.  “Tom,” she cried, “you must go away.  I can not see you now.  I am very busy declining the addresses of a suitor, and can not be interrupted.”

Mr. Tom looked at her in surprise, although it was not often Mrs. Easterfield could surprise him.  He saw that she was very much in earnest.

“Well,” said he, “if you are sure you are going to decline him I won’t interrupt you.  And when you have sealed his fate you will find me in my room.  I want particularly to see you.”

Mrs. Easterfield went back to the library and Hemphill continued:  “You need not answer if you do not think it is right,” said he, “but do you believe at any time she thought seriously of me?”

Mrs. Easterfield smiled as she answered:  “Now, you see the advantage of an agent in such matters as this.  You could not have asked her that question, or if you did she would not answer you.  And now I am going to tell you that she did have some serious thought of you.  Whatever encouragement she gave you, she treated you fairly.  She is a very practical young woman—­”

“Excuse me,” said Hemphill hurriedly, “but if you please, I would rather you did not tell me anything more.  Sometimes it is not well to try to know too much.  I can’t talk now, Mrs. Easterfield, for I am dreadfully cut up, but at the same time I am wonderfully proud.  I don’t know that you can understand this.”

“Yes, I can,” she said; “I understand it perfectly.”

“You are very kind,” he said.  As he was about to leave the room he stopped and turned to Mrs. Easterfield.  “Is she going to marry Professor Lancaster?” he asked.

“Really, Mr. Hemphill,” she replied, “I can not say anything about that.  I do not know any more than you do.”

“Well, I hope she may,” he said.  “It would be a burning shame if she were to accept that Austrian; and as for the other little man, he is too ugly.  You must excuse me for speaking of your friends in this way, Mrs. Easterfield, but really I should feel dreadfully if I thought I had been set aside for such a queer customer as he is.”