Meanwhile the time came for his daily constitutional, and Mr. Plateas was on thorns.  He could not stay indoors waiting for his friend any longer; but in order to be near at hand, he resolved to take his old walk and go no farther than the Vaporia.  So he called Florou and told her that he would not be gone long, but that if Mr. Liakos should come, she must send him to the Vaporia.  He explained with great care the route he would take in going and in coming back, so that Florou might tell his friend exactly.  All this was quite unnecessary, for the road to the Vaporia was so direct that the two friends could hardly help meeting unless they went out of their way to avoid each other; but he insisted upon his topographical directions, and repeated them so often that Florou at last lost her patience, and exclaimed: 

“Very well, very well!”

It was most unusual for the old woman to say the same word twice.

Not a living soul was to be seen on the Vaporia, and Mr. Plateas was able to follow the course of his thoughts undisturbed.  To tell the truth, his ideas rather lacked sequence, and were much the same thing over and over; but they were so engrossing that he had not quoted a line of Homer all day.  If this worry had lasted much longer, it would have effected what all his exercise and sea-bathing had failed to accomplish; the poor man would certainly have been reduced to a shadow.

And still Liakos did not come!  For a moment the professor thought of going to look for his friend; bat where should he go?  The judge had promised to come, and Florou had been told to get supper for both; Liakos must come.

But why didn’t he come now?  Mr. Plateas paced up and down the Vaporia twenty times at least, and although he kept looking toward his house, there was no sign of the judge.  At last!  At last he saw his friend coming in the distance.

“Well, is it ‘yes’ or ’no’?” he cried, as soon as he was near enough to be heard.

“Do let me get my breath first.”

From the expression of the poor man’s face Mr. Liakos feared that “no” would be more welcome than “yes.”

“Can he have repented?” thought the judge; then, taking Mr. Plateas affectionately by the arm, he turned back to prolong the walk, and tried to soothe his friend’s amour propre.

“Don’t be troubled; she’s not a silly girl, but has good sense and good judgment.  She will treat your offer as an honor, and will be happy to have a man like you for a husband.”

“Never mind about that,” said the professor, in a calmer tone.  “Tell me how the matter really stands.  What have you been doing all this time?”

In relating his story, Mr. Liakos did not tell his friend everything.  He passed over the stiffness of Mr. Mitrophanis as well as his cousin’s unseemly mirth, and urged so skillfully the need of her good offices as to disarm all objection; he had left the affair in his cousin’s charge, and secured her promise to send him word of the result at the professor’s house.  This was the substance of the conversation; but Mr. Plateas asked so many questions and the judge had to repeat each detail so often, that the sun was setting when the two friends went back to do justice to Florou’s supper.