Undoubtedly Lucy would refuse to be passed along from one man to another like a bale of goods, and Archie knew that, so far as in her lay, she would keep to her engagement, especially as she denied Braddock’s right to dispose of her hand.  All the same, the Professor, in spite of his cherubical looks, could make himself extremely disagreeable, and undoubtedly would do so if thwarted.  The sole course that remained, should Braddock begin operations to break the present engagement, would be to marry Lucy at once.  Archie would willingly have done so, but pecuniary difficulties stood in the way.  He had never told any one of these, not even the girl he loved, but they existed all the same.  For many years he had been assisting needy relatives, and thus had hampered himself, in spite of his income.  By sheer force of will, so as to force Braddock into giving him Lucy, he had contrived to secure the necessary thousand pounds, without confusing the arrangements he had made to pay off certain debts connected with his domestic philanthropy; but this brought him to the end of his resources.  In six months he hoped to be free to have his income entirely to himself, and then—­small as it was—­ he could support a wife.  But until the half year elapsed he could see no chance of marrying Lucy with any degree of comfort, and meanwhile she would be exposed to the persecutions of the Professor.  Perhaps persecutions is too harsh a word, as Braddock was kind enough to the girl.  Nevertheless, he was pertinacious in gaining his aims where his pet hobby was concerned, and undoubtedly, could he see any chance of obtaining the money from Random by selling his step-daughter, he would do so.  Assuredly it was dishonorable to act in this way, but the Professor was a scientific Jesuit, and deemed that the end justified the means, when any glory to himself and gain to the British Museum was in question.

“But I may be doing him an injustice,” said Archie, when he was explaining his fears to Miss Kendal on the third day after the dinner party.  “After all, the Professor is a gentleman, and will probably hold to the bargain which he has made.”

“I don’t care whether he does or not,” cried Lucy, who had a fine color and a certain amount of fire in her eyes.  “I am not going to be bought and sold to forward these nasty scientific schemes.  My father can say what he likes and do what he likes, but I marry you—­to-morrow if you like.”

“That’s just it,” said Archie, flushing, “we can’t marry.”

“Why?” she asked, much astonished.

Hope looked at the ground and drew patterns with his cane-point in the sand.  They were seated in the hot sunshine—­for the Indian summer still continued—­under a moldering brick wall, which ran around the most delightful of kitchen gardens.  This was situated at the back of the Pyramids, and contained a multiplicity of pot herbs and fruit trees and vegetables.  It resembled the Fairy Garden in Madame D’Alnoy’s story