“What did he want?” asked Mrs. Crasterton.

“He got rung off,” I said

“There he is again now,” she said, going to the telephone. It was Mr. Hardy saying that he was so sorry that he had been unable to give me any time yesterday—but these things can’t be helped, you know. If Mrs. Crasterton would spare me again this afternoon he would see that we were not disturbed and he would advise me as best he could concerning future work. I had everything to learn. “Of course, of course,” agreed Mrs. Crasterton. Today he invited me to his aunt’s flat.

“Do I know your aunt?” inquired Mrs. Crasterton.

It was established that they had served together on Committees. Aunt spoke to Mrs. Crasterton on the telephone and said that she would be waiting for me at the wharf. Her flat was right in the city, which made it convenient for Goring.

Another ring was from Mrs. Thrumnoddy. She ordered me to meet her that afternoon at the Australia, where she was having a few distinguished people, and made it plain that it was a distinguished honour for me to be asked. I said I had another engagement, but she said, “Get out of it”. Mr. Goring Hardy was to be with her, and a man like that had to be considered. It would do me good to meet him. Mrs. Crasterton said that I could go to her from my other engagement. I begged Mrs. Crasterton not to mention that I was seeing Mr. Hardy, as it would take the wind out of Mrs. Thrumnoddy’s sails, and she would put it in the paper, and Mr. Hardy would think I was a chatterer. Mrs. Crasterton said she told Mrs. Thrumnoddy only those things she wished to be reported. That settled that nicely.

Mr. Hardy himself was waiting for me at the wharf, and we jumped into a cab and went straight to his aunt’s flat. Aunt looked me over piercingly, but asked no questions. Mr. Hardy spread out books and stationery in a workmanlike way and assumed his public shell towards me, which was brisk and ignoring. I dived into my role of girly-girly bushkin from ’Possum Gully. Presently Aunt came in hatted and with a hand portmanteau. She and Goring had a colloquy, from which I gathered that she was leaving for a week. She merely nodded good-day to me and went.

Mr. Hardy made sure that we were locked against intrusion, and then acted like a boy leaving school. He whirled me around, tossed me on to the table and sat looking at me with a leaping light in his eyes. “Now let us both come out of our shells. In spite of your castiron shyness there must be mines of things in you. You could not write as you do and just be the ordinary miss.”

“That is just writing,” I murmured.

“We cannot express passions and longings in an original and convincing way if they are not in us. It is your power of emotion that attracts me.”