“It is settled, then,” said Cheiron, “at five o’clock I will be upon the terrace.”

Halcyone returned to her grammar, and silence obtained between them.  Then presently Mr. Carlyon spoke.

“I am going to have a visitor for a week or perhaps more,” he announced.

A startled pair of eyes looked up at him.

“That seems odd,” Halcyone said.  “I hope whoever it is will not be much in our way.  I do not think I am glad—­are you?”

“Yes, I am glad.  It is someone for whom I have a great regard,” and Mr. Carlyon knocked the ashes from his long pipe.  “It is a young man who used to be at Oxford and to whom also I taught Greek.”

“Then he will know a great deal more than I do, being older,” returned Halcyone, not at all mollified by this information.

“Yes, he knows rather more than you do as yet,” the Professor allowed.  “Perhaps you will not like him; he can be quite disagreeable when he wishes—­and he may not like you.”

Halcyone’s dark brows met.

“If he is someone for whom you have a regard he must be of those who count.  I shall be angry then, if he dislikes me—­is he coming soon?”

“On Monday, by the four o’clock train.”

“Our lesson will be over—­that is something.  You will not want me on Tuesday, I expect?” and a note of regret grew in her voice.

“I thought you might have a holiday for a while, all pupils have holidays in the summer,” the Professor returned.

“Very well,” was all she said, and then was quiet for a time, thinking the matter over.  She wished to hear more of this visitor who was going to interrupt their pleasant intercourse.

“Of what sort is he?” she asked presently.  “A hunter like Meleager—­or cunning like Theseus—­or noble like Perseus, whom I love best of all?”

“He is not very Greek to look at, I am afraid, except perhaps in his length of limb,” and the Professor smiled.  “He is just a thin, lanky, rather distinguished young Englishman and was considered to be the most brilliant of my pupils, taking a Double First under my auspices and leaving Oxford with flying colors when I retired myself a year or two ago.  He has been very lucky since, he is full of ambitions in the political line, and he has a fearless and rather caustic wit.”

“I must think of him as Pericles, then, if he is occupied with the state,” said Halcyone.  “But how has he been lucky since?  I would like to know—­tell me, please, and I will try not to mind his being here.”

“Yes—­try—­” said Mr. Carlyon.  “After he took his degree he studied law and history, you know, as well as the Greek philosophy which you may come to some day—­he went to London to the Temple to read for the bar.  He never intended to be a practicing barrister, but everything is a means to his career.  Then his luck came—­he has lots of friends and relations in the great world and at one of their country houses