Ah! but she was then still budding.  That was no excuse.  If a loveable woman—­aye, or any woman—­has loved a man, even though he cannot marry her, or even wish to do so, at any rate let him not forget her—­and he had forgotten Yram as completely until the last few days, as though he had never seen her.  He took her little missive, and under “Look,” he wrote, “I have;” under “Say nothing,” “I will;” under “forget,” “never.”  “And I never shall,” he said to himself, as he replaced the box upon the table.  He then lay down to rest upon the bed, but he could get no sleep.

When the servant brought him his imitation coffee—­an imitation so successful that Yram made him a packet of it to replace the tea that he must leave behind him—­he rose and presently came downstairs into the drawing-room, where he found Yram and Mrs. Humdrum’s grand-daughter, of whom I will say nothing, for I have never seen her, and know nothing about her, except that my father found her a sweet-looking girl, of graceful figure and very attractive expression.  He was quite happy about her, but she was too young and shy to make it possible for him to do more than admire her appearance, and take Yram’s word for it that she was as good as she looked.

CHAPTER XXIV:  AFTER DINNER, DR. DOWNIE AND THE PROFESSORS WOULD BE GLAD TO KNOW WHAT IS TO BE DONE ABOUT SUNCHILDISM

It was about six when George’s fiancee left the house, and as soon as she had done so, Yram began to see about the rug and the best substitutes she could find for the billy and pannikin.  She had a basket packed with all that my father and George would want to eat and drink while on the preserves, and enough of everything, except meat, to keep my father going till he could reach the shepherd’s hut of which I have already spoken.  Meat would not keep, and my father could get plenty of flappers—­i.e. ducks that cannot yet fly—­when he was on the river-bed down below.

The above preparations had not been made very long, before Mrs. Humdrum arrived, followed presently by Dr. Downie and in due course by the Professors, who were still staying in the house.  My father remembered Mrs. Humdrum’s good honest face, but could not bring Dr. Downie to his recollection till the Doctor told him when and where they had met, and then he could only very uncertainly recall him, though he vowed that he could now do so perfectly well.

“At any rate,” said Hanky, advancing towards him with his best Bridgeford manner, “you will not have forgotten meeting my brother Professor and myself.”

“It has been rather a forgetting sort of a morning,” said my father demurely, “but I can remember that much, and am delighted to renew my acquaintance with both of you.”

As he spoke he shook hands with both Professors.