“Is it possible that it is the same person?” asked Waymark, wondering and reflecting.

“If so, that puts a new difficulty in our way.”

“Removes one, I should have thought”

“Harriet is not of a very forgiving nature,” said Julian gravely.

“I shouldn’t have supposed she was; but a long time has gone by since then, and, after all, one is generally glad to see an old school-fellow.”

At this point the conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by the announcement that a gentleman named O’Gree wished to see Mr. Waymark.  Waymark smiled at Julian.

“Don’t run away,” he said.  “You ought to know O’Gree in the flesh.”

The teacher came into the room with a rush, and was much taken aback at the sight of a stranger present.  Perspiration was streaming profusely from his face, which was aglow with some great intelligence.  After being introduced to Casti, he plunged down on a chair, and mopped himself with his handkerchief, uttering incoherencies about the state of the weather.  Waymark made an effort to bring about a general conversation, but failed; O’Gree was so preoccupied that any remark addressed to him had to be repeated before he understood it, and Julian was in no mood for making new acquaintances.  So, in a few minutes, the latter took his hat and left, Waymark going with him to the door to speak a few words of encouragement.

“The battle’s won!” cried O’Gree, with much gesticulation, as soon as Waymark returned.  “The campaign’s at an end!—­I’m sorry if I’ve driven your friend away, but I was bound to tell you.”

“All right.  Let me have a description of the manoeuvres.”

“Look here, my boy,” said O’Gree, with sudden solemnity, “you’ve never been very willing to talk to me about her.  Now, before I tell you anything, I want to know this. Why wouldn’t you tell me how you first got to know her, and so on?”

“Before I answer, I want to know this:  have you found out why I wouldn’t?”

“Yes, I have—­that is, I suppose I have—­and from her own lips, too!  You knew her when she lived near the Strand there, eh?”

“I did.”

“Well now, understand, my boy.  I don’t want to hear anything disagreeable; in fact, I won’t listen to anything disagreeable;—­ all I want to know is, whether I may safely tell you what she has told me.  If you don’t know it already, there’s no need to talk of it.”

“I understand, and I don’t think you can tell me anything I’m not well aware of.”

“Sure, then, I will tell you, and if there’s another girl as brave and honest as Sally in all this worruld, I’ll be obliged if you’ll make me acquainted with her!  Well, you know she has a Saturday afternoon off every month.  It hasn’t been a very cheerful day, but it couldn’t be missed; and, as it was too rainy to walk about, I couldn’t think of any better place to go to than the British Museum.  Of course I wanted to find