"Take the horses home," he said as he gave the reins to the servant. "I have been wishing to speak to you alone, Miss Gilmore. Shall we walk here?" and we turned into a side path at the end of which some nursemaids and children were gathered about the fountains.
He did not speak again for some moments, but kept staring at me with a directness which, considering all things, I found embarrassing.
"Would you mind sitting down here?" he asked, as we reached a seat nearly hidden by the shrubbery.
"Not in the least," I agreed; and down we sat.
"You will think this very singular of me," he declared after a pause.
"One person could not very well be plural," I said inanely; and he frowned at the irrelevant flippancy. "I am a student you know, and therefore appreciate grammatical accuracy."
"I wish to ask you some questions, if I may."
"They appear to be very difficult to frame. You may ask what you please."
"I wish you would smile," he said, so unexpectedly that I did smile. "It is perfectly marvellous," he exclaimed with a start.
I knew what that meant. In the old days he had talked a lot of nonsense about my smile.