daughter, and I sat down to dinner. The room was the same in which I had noticed the drawings of beast and bird, but the round table had been extended into an oval, and neatly spread with dainty linen and silver.
A fresh-cheeked Swedish girl appeared from a further room, bearing the soup. The professor ladled it out, still beaming.
"Now, this is very delightful!—isn't it, Daisy?" he said.
"Very," said Miss Holroyd, with the faintest tinge of irony.
"Very," I repeated heartily; but I looked at my soup when I said it.
"I suppose," said the professor, nodding mysteriously at his daughter, "that Dick knows nothing of what we're about down here?"
"I suppose," said Miss Holroyd, "that he thinks we are digging for fossils."
I looked at my plate. She might have spared me that.
"Well, well," said her father, smiling to himself, "he shall know everything by morning. You'll be astonished, Dick, my boy."
"His name isn't Dick," corrected Daisy.
The professor said, "Isn't it?" in an absent-minded way, and relapsed into contemplation of my necktie.
I asked Miss Holroyd a few questions about Jack, and was informed that he had given up law and entered the diplomatic service—as
