I am here to-day to let you know--that--Mr.Hardinge has requested me to tell you that he----" The professor pauses, feeling that he is failing miserably.

He, the fluent speaker at lectures, and on public platforms, is now bereft of the power to explain one small situation.
"What's the matter with Mr.Hardinge," asks Perpetua, "that he can't come here himself?
Nothing serious, I hope ?" "I am your guardian," says the professor--unfortunately, with all the air of one profoundly sorry for the fact declared, "and he wishes _me_ to tell you that he--is desirous of marrying you." Perpetua stares at him.

Whatever bitter thoughts are in her mind, she conceals them.
"He is a most thoughtful young man," says she, blandly.

"And--and you're another." "I hope I am thoughtful, if I am not young," says the professor, with dignity.

Her manner puzzles him.