How he passed the hours, he knew not.

Spying at windows, listening for voices, creeping hither and thither in torment of multiform ignominy, forcing speech when he longed to be silent, not daring to break silence when his heart seemed bursting with desire to utter itself--a terrible time.

And Irene persevered in her elder-sister attitude; she was kindness itself, but never seemed to remark a strangeness in his look and manner.

Once he found courage to say that he would like to know Dr.Derwent; she replied that her father was a very busy man, but that no doubt some opportunity for their meeting would arise--and that was all.

When the moment came for leave-taking, Piers tried to put all his soul into a look; but he failed, his eyes dropped, even as his tongue faltered.