"You've got some rather pretty girls in the place," said Humphrey.
"Oh, pretty! What has that to do with it?"
The music ceased. There was a general lull. The guests all leaned back in their chairs. The president knocked with her ivory hammer, and they all returned to the lady's bower.
In the drawing-room Humphrey left the president to the people who pressed in upon her, and wandered round the room, looking, apparently, for some one. Presently he discovered, surrounded by a company of men, the girl who was called Molly. She, too, was dressed in white, and wore a cherry-coloured ribbon round her neck; a dainty damsel she looked, conspicuous for this lovely quality of daintiness among them all. At sight of her the young man coloured, and his eye brightened; then his face clouded. However, he made his way to her. She stepped out of the circle and gave him her hand.
"It is a week and more," he whispered, "since I have seen you. Why not say at once that you don't care about it any longer?"
"You are welcome to the college, Sir Humphrey," she replied aloud. "Confess that it is a pretty sight. The president was talking to you about it all dinner-time. I hope that you are interested."
"I think it is all tomfoolery," he replied ungraciously; "and a waste of good money too."
"Hilarie wants money to make happiness. You do not look in the best of tempers, Humphrey."
"I am not. I couldn't get enough to drink, and I have had to listen to a lot of stuff about women and priestesses."