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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wooden Horse, by Hugh Walpole
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Wooden Horse
+
+Author: Hugh Walpole
+
+Release Date: November 6, 2008 [EBook #27180]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOODEN HORSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Frontispiece: Hugh Walpole.  _From a photograph by Messrs. Elliott &
+Fry_]
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+WOODEN HORSE
+
+
+BY
+
+HUGH WALPOLE
+
+
+
+
+WITH A PORTRAIT
+
+
+
+
+MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
+
+ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
+
+1919
+
+
+
+
+MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
+
+  LONDON -- BOMBAY -- CALCUTTA -- MADRAS
+  MELBOURNE
+
+
+THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+
+  NEW YORK -- BOSTON -- CHICAGO
+  DALLAS -- SAN FRANCISCO
+
+
+THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
+
+  TORONTO
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT
+
+  _First Published April 1909
+  Second Impression October 1909
+  Wayfarers' Library 1914
+  New Edition 1919_
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+W. FERRIS
+
+AFFECTIONATELY
+
+
+
+
+  "_Er liebte jeden Hund, und wünschte von jedem Hund geliebt
+  zu sein._"--FLEGELJAHRE (JEAN PAUL).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Robin Trojan was waiting for his father.
+
+Through the open window of the drawing-room came, faintly, the cries of
+the town--the sound of some distant bell, the shout of fishermen on the
+quay, the muffled beat of the mining-stamps from Porth-Vennic, a
+village that lay two miles inland.  There yet lingered in the air the
+faint afterglow of the sunset, and a few stars, twinkling faintly in
+the deep blue of the night sky, seemed reflections of the orange lights
+of the herring-boats, flashing far out to sea.
+
+The great drawing-room, lighted by a cluster of electric lamps hanging
+from the ceiling, seemed to flaunt the dim twinkle of the stars
+contemptuously; the dark blue of the walls and thick Persian carpets
+sounded a quieter note, but the general effect was of something
+distantly, coldly superior, something indeed that was scarcely
+comfortable, but that was, nevertheless, fulfilling the exact purpose
+for which it had been intended.
+
+And that purpose was, most certainly, not comfort.  Robin himself would
+have smiled contemptuously if you had pleaded for something homely,
+something suggestive of roaring fires and cosy armchairs, instead of
+the stiff-backed, beautifully carved Louis XIV. furniture that stood,
+each chair and table rigidly in its appointed place, as though bidding
+defiance to any one bold enough to attempt alterations.
+
+The golden light in the sky shone faintly in at the open window, as
+though longing to enter, but the dazzling brilliance of the room seemed
+to fling it back into the blue dome of sea and sky outside.
+
+Robin was standing by a large looking-glass in the corner of the room
+trying to improve the shape of his tie; and it was characteristic of
+him that, although he had not seen his father for eighteen years, he
+was thinking a great deal more about his tie than about the approaching
+meeting.
+
+He was, at this time, twenty years of age.  Tall and dark, he had all
+the Trojan characteristics; small, delicately shaped ears; a mouth that
+gave signs of all the Trojan obstinacy, called by the Trojans
+themselves family pride; a high, well-shaped forehead with hair closely
+cut and of a dark brown.  He was considered by most people
+handsome--but to some his eyes, of the real Trojan blue, were too cold
+and impassive.  He gave you the impression of some one who watched,
+rather disdainfully, the ill-considered and impulsive actions of his
+fellow-men.
+
+He was, however, exactly suited to his surroundings.  He maintained the
+same position as the room with regard to the world in general--"We are
+Trojans; we are very old and very expensive and very, very good, and it
+behoves you to recognise this fact and give way with fitting deference."
+
+He had not seen his father for eighteen years, and, as he had been
+separated from him at the unimpressionable age of two, he may be said
+never to have seen him at all.  He had no recollection of him, and the
+picture that he had painted was constructed out of monthly rather
+uninteresting letters concerned, for the most part, with the care and
+maintenance of New Zealand sheep, and such meagre details as his Aunt
+Clare and Uncle Garrett had bestowed on him from time to time.  From
+the latter he gathered that his father had been, in his youth, in some
+vague way, unsatisfactory, and had departed to Australia to seek his
+fortune, with a clear understanding from his father that he was not to
+return thence until he had found it.
+
+Robin himself had been born in New Zealand, but his mother dying when
+he was two years old, he had been sent home to be brought up, in the
+proper Trojan manner, by his aunt and uncle.
+
+On these things Robin reflected as he tried to twist his tie into a
+fitting Trojan shape; but it refused to behave as a well-educated tie
+should, and the obvious thing was to get another.  Robin looked at his
+watch.  It was really extremely provoking; the carriage had been timed
+to arrive at half-past six exactly; it was now a quarter to seven and
+no one had appeared.  There was probably not time to search for another
+tie.  His father would be certain to arrive at the very moment when one
+tie was on and the other not yet on, which meant that Robin would be
+late; and if there was one thing that a Trojan hated more than another
+it was being late.  With many people unpunctuality was a fault, with a
+Trojan it was a crime; it was what was known as an "odds and ends"--one
+of those things, like untidiness, eating your fish with a steel knife
+and wearing a white tie with a short dinner-jacket, that marked a man,
+once and for all, as some one outside the pale, an impossible person.
+
+Therefore Robin allowed his tie to remain and walked to the open window.
+
+"At any rate," he said to himself, still thinking of his tie, "father
+won't probably notice it."  He wondered how much his father _would_
+notice.  "As he's a Trojan," he thought, "he'll know the sort of things
+that a fellow ought to do, even though he has been out in New Zealand
+all his life."
+
+It would, Robin reflected, be a very pretty little scene.  He liked
+scenes, and, if this one were properly manoeuvred, he ought to be its
+very interesting and satisfactory centre.  That was why it was really a
+pity about the tie.
+
+The door from the library swung slowly open, and Sir Jeremy Trojan,
+Robin's grandfather, was wheeled into the room.
+
+He was very old indeed, and the only part of his face that seemed alive
+were his eyes; they were continually darting from one end of the room
+to the other, they were never still; but, for the rest, he scarcely
+moved.  His skin was dried and brown like a mummy's, and even when he
+spoke, his lips hardly stirred.  He was in evening dress, his legs
+wrapped tightly in rugs; his chair was wheeled by a servant who was
+evidently perfectly trained in all the Trojan ways of propriety and
+decorum.
+
+"Well, grandfather," said Robin, turning back from the window with the
+look of annoyance still on his face, "how are you to-night?"  Robin
+always shouted at his grandfather although he knew perfectly well that
+he was not deaf, but could, on the other hand, hear wonderfully well
+for his age.  Nothing annoyed his grandfather so much as being shouted
+at, and of this Robin was continually reminded.
+
+"Tut, tut, boy," said Sir Jeremy testily, "one would think that I was
+deaf.  Better?  Yes, of course.  Close the windows!"
+
+"I'll ring for Marchant," said Robin, moving to the bell, "he ought to
+have done it before."  Sir Jeremy said nothing--it was impossible to
+guess at his thoughts from his face; only his eyes moved uneasily round
+the room.
+
+He was wheeled to his accustomed corner by the big open stone
+fireplace, and he lay there, motionless in his chair, without further
+remark.
+
+Marchant came in a moment later.
+
+"The windows, Marchant," said Robin, still twisting uneasily at his
+tie, "I think you had forgotten."
+
+"I am sorry, sir," Marchant answered, "but Mr. Garrett had spoken this
+morning of the room being rather close.  I had thought that perhaps----"
+
+He moved silently across the room and shut the window, barring out the
+fluttering yellow light, the sparkling silver of the stars, the orange
+of the fishing-boats, the murmured distance of the town.
+
+A few moments later Clare Trojan came in.  Although she had never been
+beautiful she had always been interesting, and indeed she was (even
+when in the company of women far more beautiful than herself) always
+one of the first to whom men looked.  This may have been partly
+accounted for by her very obvious pride, the quality that struck the
+most casual observer at once, but there was also an air of
+indifference, a look in the eyes that seemed to pique men's curiosity
+and stir their interest.  It was not for lack of opportunity that she
+was still unmarried, but she had never discovered the man who had
+virtue and merit sufficient to cover the obvious disadvantages of his
+not having been born a Trojan.  Middle age suited the air of almost
+regal dignity with which she moved, and people who had known her for
+many years said that she had never looked so well as now.  To-night, in
+a closely-fitting dress of black silk relieved by a string of pearls
+round her neck, and a superb white rose at her breast, she was almost
+handsome.  Robin watched her with satisfaction as she moved towards him.
+
+"Ah, it's cold," she said.  "I know Marchant left those windows open
+till the last moment.  Robin, your tie is shocking.  It looks as if it
+were made-up."
+
+"I know," said Robin, still struggling with it; "but there isn't time
+to get another.  Father will be here at any moment.  It's late as it
+is.  Yes, I told Marchant to shut the windows, he said something about
+Uncle Garrett's saying it was stuffy or something."
+
+"Harry's late."  Clare moved across to her father and bent down and
+kissed him.
+
+"How are you to-night, father?" but she was arranging the rose at her
+breast and was obviously thinking more of its position than of the
+answer to her question.
+
+"Hungry--damned hungry," said Sir Jeremy.
+
+"Oh, we'll have to wait," said Clare.  "Harry's got to dress.  Anyhow
+you've got no right to be hungry at a quarter to seven.  Nobody's ever
+hungry till half-past seven at the earliest."
+
+It was evident that she was ill at ease.  Perhaps it was the prospect
+of meeting her brother after a separation of eighteen years; perhaps it
+was anxiety as to how this reclaimed son of the house of Trojan would
+behave in the face of the world.  It was so very important that the
+house should not be in any way let down, that the dignity with which it
+had invariably conducted its affairs for the last twenty years should
+be, in no way, impaired.  Harry had been anything but dignified in his
+early days, and sheep-farming in New Zealand--well, of course, one knew
+what kind of life that was.
+
+But, as she looked across at Robin, it was easy to see that her anxiety
+was, in some way, connected with him.  How was this invasion to affect
+her nephew?  For eighteen years she had been the only father and mother
+that he had known, for eighteen years she had educated him in all the
+Trojan laws and traditions, the things that a Trojan must speak and do
+and think, and he had faithfully responded to her instruction.  He was
+in every way everything that a Trojan should be; but there had been
+moments, rare indeed and swiftly passing, when Clare had fancied that
+there were other impulses, other ideas at work.  She was afraid of
+those impulses, and she was afraid of what Henry Trojan might do with
+regard to them.
+
+It was, indeed, hard, after reigning absolutely for eighteen years, to
+yield her place to another, but perhaps, after all, Robin would be true
+to his early training and she would not be altogether supplanted.
+
+"Randal comes to-morrow," said Robin suddenly, after a few minutes'
+silence.  "Unfortunately he can only stop for a few days.  His paper on
+'Pater' has been taken by the _National_.  He's very much pleased, of
+course."
+
+Robin spoke coldly and without any enthusiasm.  It was not considered
+quite good form to be enthusiastic; it was apt to lead you into rather
+uncertain company with such people as Socialists and the Salvation Army.
+
+"I'm glad he's coming--quite a nice fellow," said Clare, looking at the
+gold clock on the mantelpiece.  "The train is shockingly late.  On
+'Pater' you said!  I must try and get the _National_--Miss Ponsonby
+takes it, I think.  It's unusual for Garrett to be unpunctual."
+
+He entered at the same moment--a tall, thin man of forty years of age,
+clean shaven and rather bald, with a very slight squint in the right
+eye.  He walked slowly, and always gave the impression that he saw
+nothing of his surroundings.  For the rest, he was said to be extremely
+cynical and had more than a fair share of the Trojan pride.
+
+"The train is late," he said, addressing no one in particular.
+"Father, how are you this evening?"
+
+This third attack on Sir Jeremy was repelled by a snort, which Garrett
+accepted as an answer.  "Robin, your tie is atrocious," he continued,
+picking up the _Times_ and opening it slowly; "you had better change
+it."
+
+Robin was prevented from answering by the sound of carriage-wheels on
+the drive.  Clare rose and stood by the fireplace near Sir Jeremy;
+Garrett read to the end of the paragraph and folded the paper on his
+knee; Robin fingered his watch-chain nervously and moved to his aunt's
+side--only Sir Jeremy remained motionless and gave no sign that he had
+heard.
+
+Perhaps he was thinking of that day twenty years before when, after a
+very heated interview, he had forbidden his son to see his face again
+until he had done something that definitely justified his existence.
+Harry had certainly done several things since then that justified his
+existence; he had, for one thing, made a fortune, and that was not so
+easily done nowadays.  Harry was five-and-forty now; he must be very
+much changed; he had steadied down, of course ...  he would be well
+able to take his place as head of the family when Sir Jeremy himself....
+
+But he gave no sign.  You could not tell that he had heard the
+carriage-wheels at all; he lay motionless in his chair with his eyes
+half closed.
+
+There were voices in the hall.  Beldam's superlatively courteous tones
+as of one who is ready to die to serve you, and then another
+voice--rather loud and sharp, but pleasant, with the sound of a laugh
+in it.
+
+"They are in the blue drawing-room, sir--Mr. Henry," Beldam's voice was
+heard on the stairs, and, in a moment, Beldam himself appeared--"Mr.
+Henry, Sir Jeremy."  Then he stood aside, and Henry Trojan entered the
+room.
+
+Clare made a step forward.
+
+"Harry--old boy--at last------"
+
+Both her hands were outstretched, but he disregarded them, and,
+stepping forward, crushed her in his arms, crushed her dress, crushed
+the beautiful rose at her breast, and, bending down, kissed her again
+and again.
+
+"Clare--after twenty years!"
+
+He let her go and she stepped back, still smiling, but she touched the
+rose for a moment and her hair.  He was very strong.
+
+And then there was a little pause.  Harry Trojan turned and faced his
+father.  The old man made no movement and gave no sign, but he said,
+his lips stirring very slightly, "I am glad to see you here again,
+Harry."
+
+The man flushed, and with a little stammer answered, "I am gladder to
+be back than you can know, father."
+
+Sir Jeremy's wrinkled hand appeared from behind the rugs, and the two
+men shook in silence.
+
+Then Garrett came forward.  "You're not much changed, Harry," he said
+with a laugh, "in spite of the twenty years."
+
+"Why, Garrie!"  His brother stepped towards him and laid a hand on his
+shoulder.  "It's splendid to see you again.  I'd almost forgotten what
+you were like--I only had that old photo, you know--of us both at
+Rugby."
+
+Robin had stood aside, in a corner by the fireplace, watching his
+father.  It was very much as he had expected, only he couldn't, try as
+he might, think of him as his father at all.  The man there who had
+kissed Aunt Clare and shaken hands with Sir Jeremy was, in some
+unexplained way, a little odd and out of place.  He was big and strong;
+his hair curled a little and was dark brown, like Robin's, and his eyes
+were blue, but, in other respects, there was very little of the Trojan
+about him.  His mouth was large, and he had a brown, slightly curling
+moustache.  Indeed the general impression was brown in spite of the
+blue, badly fitting suit.  He was deeply tanned by the sun and was
+slightly freckled.
+
+He would have looked splendid in New Zealand or Klondyke, or, indeed,
+anywhere where you worked with your coat off and your shirt open at the
+neck; but here, in that drawing-room, it was a pity, Robin thought,
+that his father had not stopped for two or three days in town and gone
+to a West End tailor.
+
+But, after all, it was a very nice little scene.  It really had been
+quite moving to see him kiss Clare like that, but, at the same time,
+for his part, kissing...!
+
+"And Robin?" said Harry.
+
+"Here's the son and heir," said Garrett, laughing, and pushing Robin
+forward.
+
+Now that the moment had really come, Robin was most unpleasantly
+embarrassed.  How foolish of Uncle Garrett to try and be funny at a
+time like that, and what a pity it was that his tie was sticking out at
+one end so much farther than at the other.  He felt his hand seized and
+crushed in the grip of a giant; he murmured something about his being
+pleased, and then, suddenly, his father bent down and kissed him on the
+forehead.
+
+They were both blushing, Robin furiously.  How he hated sentiment!  He
+felt sure that Uncle Garrett was laughing at him.
+
+"By Jove, you're splendid!" said Harry, holding him back with both his
+hands on his shoulders.  "Pretty different from the nipper that I sent
+over to England eighteen years ago.  Oh, you'll do, Robin."
+
+"And now, Harry," said Clare, laughing, "you'll go and dress, won't
+you?  Father's terribly hungry and the train was late."
+
+"Right," said Harry; "I won't be long.  It's good to be back again."
+
+When the door had closed behind him, there was silence.  He gave the
+impression of some one filled with overwhelming, rapturous joy.  There
+was a light in his eyes that told of dreams at length fulfilled, and
+hopes, long and wearily postponed, at last realised.  He had filled
+that stiff, solemn room with a spirit of life and strength and sheer
+animal good health--it was even, as Clare afterwards privately
+confessed, a little exhausting.
+
+Now she stood by the fireplace, smiling a little.  "My poor rose," she
+said, looking at some of the petals that had fallen to the ground.
+"Harry is strong!"
+
+"He is looking well," said Garrett.  It sounded almost sarcastic.
+
+Robin went up to his room to change his tie--he had said nothing about
+his father.
+
+As Harry Trojan passed down the well-remembered passages where the
+pictures hung in the same odd familiar places, past staircases
+vanishing into dark abysses that had frightened him as a child, windows
+deep-set in the thick stone walls, corners round which he had crept in
+the dark on his way to his room, it seemed to him that those long,
+dreary years of patient waiting in New Zealand were as nothing, and
+that it was only yesterday that he had passed down that same way, his
+heart full of rage against his father, his one longing to get out and
+away to other countries where he should be his own master and win his
+own freedom.  And now that he was back again, now that he had seen what
+that freedom meant, now that he had tasted that same will-o'-the-wisp
+liberty, how thankful he was to rest here quietly, peacefully, for the
+remainder of his days; at last he knew what were the things that were
+alone, in this world, worth striving for--not money, ambition, success,
+but love for one's own little bit of country that one called home, the
+patient resting in the heritage of all those accumulating traditions
+that ancestors had been making, slowly, gradually, for centuries of
+years.
+
+He had hoped that he would have the same old rooms at the top of the
+West Towers that he had had when a boy; he remembered the view of the
+sea from their windows--the great sweep of the Cornish coast far out to
+Land's End itself, and the gulls whirring with hoarse cries over his
+head as he leant out to view the little cove nestling at the foot of
+the Hall.  That view, then, had meant to him distant wonderful lands in
+which he was to make his name and his fortune: now it spoke of home and
+peace, and, beyond all, of Cornwall.
+
+They had put him in one of the big spare rooms that faced inland.  As
+he entered the sense of its luxury filled him with a delicious feeling
+of comfort: the log-fire burning in the open brown-tiled fireplace, the
+softness of the carpets, the electric light, shaded to a soft glow--ah!
+these were the things for which he had waited, and they had, indeed,
+been worth waiting for.
+
+His man was laying his dress-clothes on his bed.
+
+"What is your name?" he said, feeling almost a little shy; it was so
+long since he had had things done for him.
+
+"James Treduggan, sir," the man answered, smiling.  "You won't remember
+me, sir, I expect.  I was quite a youngster when you went away.  But
+I've been in service here ever since I was ten."
+
+When Harry was left alone, he stood by the fire, thinking.  He had been
+preparing for this moment for so long that now that it was actually
+here he was frightened, nervous.  He had so often imagined that first
+arrival in England, the first glimpse of London; then the first meeting
+and the first evening at home.  Of course, all his thoughts had centred
+on Robin--everything else had been secondary, but he had, in some
+unaccountable way, never been able to realise exactly what Robin would
+be.  He had had photographs, but they had been unsatisfactory and had
+told him nothing; and now that he had seen him, he was at rest; he was
+all that he had hoped--straight, strong, manly, with that clear steady
+look in the eyes that meant so much; yes, there was no doubt about his
+son.  He remembered Robin's mother with affectionate tenderness; she
+had been the daughter of a doctor in Auckland--he had fallen in love
+with her at once and married her, although his prospects had been so
+bad.  They had been very happy, and then, when Robin was two years old,
+she had died; the boy had been sent home, and he had been alone
+again--for eighteen years he had been alone.  There had been other
+women, of course; he did not pretend to have been a saint, and women
+had liked him and been rather sorry for him in those early years; but
+they had none of them been very much to him, only episodes--the central
+fact of his existence had always been his son.  He had had a friend
+there, a Colonel Durand, who had three sons of his own, and had given
+him much advice as to his treatment of Robin.  He had talked a great
+deal about the young generation, about its impatience of older theories
+and manners, its dislike of authority and restraint; and Harry,
+remembering his own early hatred of restriction and longing for
+freedom, was determined that he would be no fetter on his son's
+liberty, that he would be to him a friend, a companion rather than a
+father.  After all, he felt no more than twenty-five--there was really
+no space of years between them--he was as young to-day as he had been
+twenty years ago.
+
+As to the others, he had never cared very much for Clare and Garrett in
+the old days; they had been stiff, cold, lacking all sense of family
+affection.  But that had been twenty years ago.  There had been a time,
+in New Zealand, when he had hated Garrett.  When he had been away from
+home for some ten years, the longing to see his boy had grown too
+strong to be resisted, and he had written to his father asking for
+permission to return.  He had received a cold answer from Garrett,
+saying that Sir Jeremy thought that, as he was so successful there, it
+would be perhaps better if he remained there a little while longer;
+that he would find little to do at home and would only weary of the
+monotony--four closely written pages to the same effect.  So Harry had
+remained.
+
+But that was ten years ago.  At last, a letter had come, saying that
+Sir Jeremy was now very old and feeble, that he desired to see his son
+before he died, and that all the past was forgotten and forgiven.  And
+now there was but one thought in his heart--love for all the world, one
+overwhelming desire to take his place amongst them decently, worthily,
+so that they might see that the wastrel of twenty years ago had
+developed into a man, able to take his place, in due time, at the head
+of the Trojan family.  Oh! how he would try to please them all! how he
+would watch and study and work so that that long twenty years' exile
+might be forgotten both by himself and by them.
+
+He bathed and dressed slowly by the fire.  As he saw his clothes on the
+bed he fancied, for a moment, that they might be a little worn, a
+little old.  They had seemed very good and smart in Auckland, but in
+England it was rather different.  He almost wished that he had stayed
+in London for two days and been properly fitted by a tailor.  But then
+he had been so eager to arrive, he had not thought of clothes; his one
+idea had been to rush down as soon as possible and see them all, and
+the place, and the town.
+
+Then he remembered that Clare had asked him to be quick.  He finished
+his dressing hurriedly, turned out the electric light, and left the
+room.
+
+He was pleased to find that he had not forgotten the turns and twists
+of the house.  He threaded the dark passages easily, humming a little
+tune, and smelling that same sweet scent of dried rose leaves that he
+had known so well when he was a small boy.  He could see, in
+imagination, the great white-and-pink china pot-pourri bowls standing
+at the corner of the stairs--nothing was changed.
+
+The blue drawing-room was deserted when he entered it--only the blaze
+of the electric light, the golden flame of the log-fire in the great
+open fireplace, and the solemn ticking of the gold clock that had stood
+there, in the same place of honour, for the last hundred years.  He
+passed over to the windows and flung them open; the hum of the town
+came, with the cold night air, into the room.  The stars were brilliant
+to-night and the golden haze of the lamplight hung over the streets
+like a magic curtain.  Ah! how good it was!  The peace of it, the
+comfort, the homeliness!
+
+Above all, it was Cornwall--the lights of the herring fleet, the
+distant rhythmical beat of the mining-stamps, that peculiar scent as of
+precious spices coming with the wind of the sea, as though borne from
+distant magical lands, all told him that he was, at last, again in
+Cornwall.
+
+He drank in the night air, bending his eyes on the town as though he
+were saluting it again, tenderly, joyously, with the greeting of an old
+familiar friend.
+
+Robin closed the door behind him and shivered a little.  The windows
+were open--how annoying when Aunt Clare had especially asked that they
+should be closed.  Oh! it was his father!  Of course, he did not know!
+
+He had not been noticed, so he coughed.  Harry turned round.
+
+"Hullo, Robin, my boy!"  He passed his arm through his son's and drew
+him to the window.  "Isn't it splendid?" he said.  "Oh!  I don't
+suppose you see it now, after having been here all this time; you want
+to go away for twenty years, then you'd know how much it's worth.  Oh!
+it's splendid--what times we'll have here, you and I!"
+
+"Yes," said Robin, a little coldly.  It was very chilly with the window
+open, and there was something in all that enthusiasm that was almost a
+little vulgar.  Of course, it was natural, after being away so long ...
+but still....  Also his father's clothes were really very old--the back
+of the coat was quite shiny.
+
+Sir Jeremy entered in his chair, followed by Clare and Garrett.
+
+Clare gave a little scream.
+
+"Oh!  How cold!" she cried.  "Now whoever----!"
+
+"I'm afraid I was guilty," said Harry, laughing.  "The town looked so
+splendid and I hadn't seen it for so long.  I----"
+
+"Of course, I forgot," said Clare.  "I don't suppose you notice open
+windows in New Zealand, because you're always outside in the Bush or
+something.  But here we're as shivery as you make them.  Dinner's
+getting shivery too.  The sooner we go down the better."
+
+She passed back through the door and down the hall.  There was no doubt
+that she was a magnificent woman.
+
+As Sir Jeremy was wheeled through the doors he gripped Harry's hand.
+"I'm damned glad that you're back," he whispered.
+
+Robin, who was the last to leave the room, closed the windows and
+turned out the lights.  The room was in darkness save for the golden
+light of the leaping fire.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+It had been called the "House of the Flutes" since the beginning of
+time.  People had said that the name was absurd, and Harry's
+grandfather, a prosaic gentleman of rather violent radical opinions,
+had made a definite attempt at a change--but he had failed.  Trojans
+had appeared from every part of the country, angry Trojans, tearful
+Trojans, indignant Trojans, important Trojans, poor-relation Trojans,
+and had, one and all, demanded that the name should remain, and that
+the headquarters of the Trojan tradition, of the Trojan power, should
+continue to be the "House of the Flutes."
+
+Of course, it had its origin in tradition.  In the early days when
+might was right, and the stronger seized the worldly goods of the
+weaker and nobody said him nay, there had been a Sir Jeremy Trojan
+whose wife had been the talk of the country-side both because of her
+beauty and also because of her easy morals.  Sir Jeremy having departed
+on a journey, the lovely Lady Clare entertained a neighbouring baron at
+her husband's bed and board, and for two days all was well.  But Sir
+Jeremy unexpectedly returned, and, being a gentleman of a pleasant
+fancy, walled up the room in which he had found the erring couple and
+left them inside.  He then sat outside, and listened with a gentle
+pleasure to their cries, and, being a musician of no mean quality,
+played on the flute from time to time to prevent the hours from being
+wearisome.  For three days he sat there, until there came no more
+sounds from that room; then he pursued his ordinary affairs, but sought
+no other wife--a grim little man with a certain sense of humour.
+
+There are many other legends connected with the house; you will find
+them in Baedeker, where it also says: "Kind permission is accorded by
+Sir Henry Trojan to visitors who desire to see the rooms during the
+residence of the family in London.  Special attention should be paid to
+the gold Drawing-room with its magnificent carving, the Library with
+its fine collection of old prints, and the Long Gallery with the family
+portraits, noticing especially the Vandyke of Sir Hilary Trojan
+(_temp._ Ch. I.), and a little sketch by Turner of the view from the
+West Tower.  The gardens, too, are well worth a short inspection,
+special mention being made of the Long Terrace with its magnificent
+sea-view.
+
+"A small charge is made by Sir Henry for admittance (adults sixpence,
+children half-price), with a view to benefiting the church, a building
+recently restored and sadly in need of funds."
+
+So far Baedeker (Cornwall, new ed., 1908).  The house is astonishingly
+beautiful, seen from any point of view.  Added to from time to time, it
+has that air of surprise, as of a building containing endless secrets,
+only some of which it intends to reveal.  It is full of corners and
+angles, and at the same time preserves a symmetry and grandeur of style
+that is surprising, if one considers its haphazard construction and
+random additions.
+
+Part of its beauty is undoubtedly owing to its superb position.  It
+rises from the rock, over the grey town at its feet, like a protecting
+deity, its two towers to west and east, raised like giant hands, its
+grey walls rising sheer from the steep, shelving rock; behind it the
+gentle rise of hills, bending towards the inland valleys; in front of
+it an unbroken stretch of sea.
+
+It strikes the exact note that is in harmony with its colour and
+surroundings: the emblem of some wild survival from dark ages when that
+spot had been one of the most uncivilised in the whole of Britain--a
+land of wild, uncouth people, living in a state of perpetual watch and
+guard, fearing the sea, fearing the land, cringingly superstitious
+because of their crying need of supernatural defence; and, indeed,
+there is nothing more curious in the Cornwall of to-day than this
+perpetual reminder of past superstitions, dead gods, strange pathetic
+survival of heathen ancestry.
+
+The town of Pendragon, lying at the foot of the "House of the Flutes,"
+had little of this survival of former custom about it; it was rapidly
+developing into that temple of British middle-class mediocrity, a
+modern watering-place.  It had, in the months of June, July, and
+August, nigger minstrels, a café chantant, and a promenade, with six
+bathing-machines and two donkeys; two new hotels had sprung up within
+the last two years, a sufficient sign of its prosperity.  No, Pendragon
+was doing its best to forget its ancient superstitions, and even seemed
+to regard the "House of the Flutes" a little resentfully because of its
+reminder of a time when men scaled the rocks and stormed the walls, and
+fell back dying and cursing into their ships riding at anchor in the
+little bay.
+
+Very different was Cullin's Cove, the little fishing-village that lay
+slightly to the right of the town.  Here traditions were carefully
+guarded; a strict watch was kept on the outside world, and strangers
+were none too cheerfully received.  Here, "down-along," was the old,
+the true Cornwall--a land that had changed scarcely at all since those
+early heathen days that to the rest of the world are dim, mysterious,
+mythological, but to a Cornishman are as the events of yesterday.  High
+on the moor behind the Cove stand four great rocks--wild, wind-beaten,
+grimly permanent.  It is under their guardianship that the Cove lies,
+and it is something more than a mere superstitious reverence that those
+inhabitants of "down-along" pay to those darkly mysterious figures.
+Seen in the fading light of the dying day, when Cornish mists are
+winding and twisting over the breast of the moor, these four rocks seem
+to take a living shape, to grow in size, and to whisper to those that
+care to hear old stories of the slaughter that had stained the soil at
+their feet on an earlier day.
+
+From Harry's windows the town and the sea were hidden.  Immediately
+below him lay the tennis-lawns and the rose-garden, and, gleaming in
+the distance, at the end of the Long Walk, two white statues that had
+fascinated him in his boyhood.
+
+His first waking thought on the morning after his arrival was to look
+for those statues, and when he saw them gleaming in the sun just as
+they used to do, there swept over him a feeling of youth and vigour
+such as he had never known before.  Those twenty years in New Zealand
+were, after all, to go for nothing; they were to be as though they had
+had no existence, and he was to be the young energetic man of
+twenty-five, able to enter into his son's point of view, able to share
+his life and vitality, and, at the same time, to give him the benefit
+of his riper experience.
+
+Through his open window came the faint, distant beating of the sea; a
+bird flew past him, a white flash of light; some one was singing the
+refrain of a Cornish "chanty"--the swing of the tune came up to him
+from the garden, and some of the words beat like little bells upon his
+brain, calling up endless memories of his boyhood.
+
+He looked at his watch and found that it was nine o'clock.  He had no
+idea that it was so late; he had asked to be called at seven, but he
+had slept so soundly that he had not heard his man enter with his
+shaving water; it was quite cold now, and his razors were terribly
+blunt.  He cut himself badly, a thing that he scarcely ever did.  But
+it was really unfortunate, on this first morning when he had wanted
+everything to be at its best.
+
+He came down to the breakfast-room humming.  The house seemed a palace
+of gold on this wonderful September morning; the light came in floods
+through the great windows at the head of the stairs, and shafts of
+golden light struck the walls and the china potpourri bowls and flashed
+wonderful colours out of a great Venetian vase that stood by the hall
+door.
+
+He found Garrett and Robin breakfasting alone; Clare and Sir Jeremy
+always had breakfast in their own rooms.
+
+"I'm afraid I'm awfully late," said Harry cheerfully, clapping his
+brother on the back and putting his hand for a minute on Robin's
+shoulder; "things all cold?"
+
+"Oh no," said Garrett, scarcely looking up from his morning paper.
+"Damned good kidneys!"
+
+Robin said nothing.  He was watching his father curiously.  It was one
+of the Trojan rules that you never talked at breakfast; it was such an
+impossible meal altogether, and one was always at one's worst at that
+time of the morning.  Robin wondered whether his father would recognise
+this elementary rule or whether he would talk, talk, talk, as he had
+done last night.  They had had rather a bad time last night; Aunt Clare
+had had a headache, but his father had talked continuously--about sheep
+and Maories and the Pink Terraces.  It had been just like a parish-room
+magic-lantern lecture--"Some hours with our friends the Maories"--it
+had been very tiring; poor Aunt Clare had grown whiter and whiter; it
+was quite a relief when dinner had come to an end.
+
+Harry helped himself to kidneys and sat down by Robin, still humming
+the refrain of the Cornish song he had heard at his window.  "By Jove,
+I'm late--mustard, Robin, my boy--can't think how I slept like that.
+Why, in New Zealand I was always up with the lark--had to be, you know,
+there was always such heaps to do--the bread, old boy, if you can get
+hold of it.  I remember once getting up at three in the morning to go
+and play cricket somewhere--fearful hot day it was, but I knocked up
+fifty, I remember.  Probably the bowling was awfully soft, although I
+remember one chap--Pulling, friend of Durand's--could fairly twist 'em
+down the pitch--made you damned well jump.  Talking of cricket, I
+suppose you play, Robin?  Did you get your cap or whatever they call
+it--College colours, you know?"
+
+"Oh, cricket!" said Robin indifferently.  "No, I didn't play.  The
+chaps at King's who ran the games were rather outers--pretty thoroughly
+barred by the decent men.  None of the 'Gracchi' went in for the
+sports."
+
+"Oh!" said Harry, considerably surprised.  "And who the deuce are the
+'Gracchi'?"
+
+"A society I was on," said Robin, a little wearily--it was so annoying
+to be forced to talk at breakfast.  "A literary society--essays, with
+especial attention paid to the New Literature.  We made it our boast
+that we never went back further than Meredith, except, of course, when
+one had to, for origins and comparisons.  Randal, who's coming to stop
+for a few days, was president last year and read some awfully good
+papers."
+
+Harry stared blankly.  He had thought that every one played cricket and
+football, especially when they were strong and healthy like Robin.  He
+had not quite understood about the society--and who was Meredith?  "I
+shall be glad to meet your friend," he said.  "Is he still at
+Cambridge?"
+
+"Oh, Randal!" said Robin.  "No, he came down the same time as I did.
+He only got a second in History, although he was worth a first any day
+of the week.  But he had such lots of other things to do--his papers
+for the 'Gracchi' took up any amount of time--and then history rather
+bored him.  He's very popular here, especially with all Fallacy Street
+people."
+
+"The Fallacy Street people!" repeated Harry, still more bewildered.
+"Who are they?"
+
+"Oh!  I suppose you've forgotten," said Robin, mildly surprised.
+"They're all the people who're intellectual in Pendragon.  If you live
+in Fallacy Street you're one of the wits.  It's like belonging to the
+'Mermaid' used to be, you know, in Shakespeare's time.  They're really
+awfully clever--some of them--the Miss Ponsonbys and Mrs. le
+Terry--Aunt Clare thinks no end of Mrs. le Terry."
+
+Robin's voice sounded a little awed.  He had a great respect for
+Fallacy Street.  "Oh, they won't have any room for me," said Harry,
+laughing.  "I'm an awfully stupid old duffer.  I haven't read anything
+at all, except a bit of Kipling--'Barrack-room Ballads'--seems a waste
+of time to read somehow."
+
+That his father had very little interest in literature Robin had
+discovered some time before, but that he should boast of it--openly,
+laughingly--was really rather terrible.
+
+Harry was silent for a few minutes; he had evidently made a blunder in
+his choice of a subject, but it was really difficult.
+
+"Where are we going this morning, Robin?" he said at last.
+
+"Oh!  I say!" Robin looked a little unhappy.  "I'm awfully sorry,
+father.  I'm really afraid I can't come out this morning.  There's a
+box of books that have positively got to get off to Randal's place
+to-night.  I daren't keep them any longer.  I'd do it this afternoon,
+only it's Aunt Clare's at-home day and she always likes me to help her.
+I'm really awfully sorry, but there are lots of other mornings, aren't
+there?  I simply must get those books off this morning."
+
+"Why, of course," said Harry cheerfully; "there's plenty of time."
+
+He was dreadfully disappointed.  He had often thought of that first
+stroll with Robin.  They would discuss the changes since Harry's day;
+Robin would point out the new points of interest, and, perhaps,
+introduce him to some of his friends--it had been a favourite picture
+of his during some of those lonely days in New Zealand.  And now
+Robin's aunt and college friend were to come before his father--it was
+rather hard.
+
+But, then, on second thoughts, how unreasonable it was of him to expect
+to take up Robin's time like that.  He must fall into the ways of the
+house, quietly, unobtrusively, with none of that jolting of other
+people's habits and regular customs; it had been thoughtless, of him
+and ridiculous.  He must be more careful.
+
+Breakfast ended, he found himself alone.  Robin left the room with the
+preoccupied air of a man of fifty; the difficulty of choosing between
+Jefferies' "Story of my Heart" and Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass," if
+there wasn't room in the box for both, was terrible!  Of course Randal
+was coming himself in a few days, and it would have been simpler to let
+him choose for himself; but he had particularly asked for them to be
+sent by the fourth, and to-day was the third.  Robin had quite
+forgotten his father.
+
+Harry was alone.  From the garden came the sound of doves, and, through
+the window that overlooked the lawn, the sun shone into the room.
+Harry lit a cigarette and went out.  The garden was changed; there was
+a feeling of order and authority about it that it had never had before.
+Not a weed was to be seen on the paths: flowers stretched in perfect
+order and discipline; colours in harmony, shapes and patterns of a
+tutored symmetry--it was the perfection of a modern gardener's art.  He
+passed gardeners, grave, serious men with eyes intent on their work,
+and he remembered the strange old man who had watched over the garden
+when he had been a boy; an old man with a wild ragged beard and a
+skinny hand like the Ancient Mariner's.  The garden had not prospered
+under his care--it had been wild, undisciplined, tangled; but he had
+been a teller of wonderful tales, a seer of visions--it was to him that
+Harry had owed all the intimate knowledge of Cornish lore and mystery
+that he possessed.
+
+The gardeners that were there now were probably not Cornishmen at
+all--strangers, Londoners perhaps.  They could watch that wonderful,
+ever-changing view of sea and cliff and moor without any beating of the
+heart; to them the crooked, dusky windings of the Cove, the mighty grey
+rocks of Trelennan's Jump, the strange, solemn permanency of the four
+grey stones on the moor, were as nothing; their hearts were probably in
+Peckham.
+
+He turned a little sadly from the ordered discipline of the garden; the
+shining green of the lawns, the blazing red and gold of its flowers
+almost annoyed him--it was not what he had expected.  Then, suddenly,
+he came upon a little tangled wood--a strange, deserted place, with
+tall grasses and wild ferns and a little brook bubbling noisily over
+shining white and grey pebbles.  He remembered it; how well he
+remembered it.  He had often been there in those early days.  He had
+tried to make a little mill in the brook.  He had searched there for
+some of those strange creatures about whom Tony Tregoth, the old
+gardener, had told him--fauns and nymphs and the wild god Pan.  He had
+never found anything; but its wild, disordered beauty had made a
+fitting setting for Tony's wild, disordered legends.
+
+It was still almost exactly as it had been twenty years before; no one
+had attempted improvement.  He stayed there for some time, thinking,
+regretting, dreaming--it was the only part of the garden that was real
+to him.
+
+He passed down the avenue and out through the white stone gates as one
+in a dream.  Something was stirring within him.  It was not that during
+those years in New Zealand he had forgotten.  He had longed again and
+again with a passionate, burning longing for the grey cliffs and the
+sea and the haunting loneliness of the moor; for the Cornwall that he
+had loved from the moment of his birth--no, he had never forgotten.
+But there was waking in him again that strange, half-inherited sense of
+the eternal presence of ancient days and old heathen ceremonies, and
+the manners of men who had lived in that place a thousand years before.
+He had known it when he was a boy; when he had chased rabbits over the
+moor, when he had seen the mist curling mysteriously from the sea and
+wrapping land and sky in a blinding curtain of grey, when he had stood
+on Trelennan's Jump and watched the white, savage tossing of the foam
+hundreds of feet below; he had sometimes fancied that he saw them,
+those wild bearded priests of cruelty, waiting smilingly on the silent
+twilit moor for victims--they had always been cruel; something terrible
+in the very vagueness of their outline.
+
+Now the old thoughts came back to him, and he almost fancied that he
+could see the strange faces in the shadows of the garden and feel their
+hot breath upon his cheek.
+
+His passage through the streets of Pendragon woke him from his dreams;
+its almost startling modernity and obtrusive up-to-dateness laughed at
+his fancies.  It was very much changed since he had been there
+before--like the garden, it was the very apotheosis of order and modern
+methods.  "The Pendragon Hotel" astonished him by its stone pillars,
+its glimpse of a wonderful, cool, softly carpeted hall, its official in
+gold buttons who stood solemnly magnificent on the steps, the
+admiration of several small boys who looked up into his face with
+wide-open eyes.
+
+Harry remembered the old "Pendragon Hotel," a dirty, unmethodical
+place, with beds that were never clean.  It had been something of a
+scandal, but its landlord had been an amusing fellow and a capital
+teller of stories.
+
+The shops dazzled him by their brilliance.  The hairdresser's displayed
+a wonderful assortment of wigs in the window; coloured bottles of every
+size and hue glittered in the chemist's; diamonds flashed in the
+jeweller's--the street seemed glorious to his colonial eyes.
+
+The streets were not very crowded, and no one seemed to be in a hurry.
+Auckland had been rather a busy little town--no one had had very much
+time to spare--but here, under the mellow September sun, people
+lingered and talked, and the time and place seemed to stand still with
+the pleasant air of something restfully comfortable, and, above all,
+containing nothing that wasn't in the very best taste.  It was this air
+of polite gentility that struck Harry so strongly.  It had never been
+like that in the old days; a ragged unkempt place of uncertain manners
+and a very evident poverty.  He rather resented its new polish, and he
+regretted once more that he had not sought a London tailor before
+coming down to Cornwall.
+
+He suddenly recognised a face--a middle-aged, stout gentleman, with a
+white waistcoat and the air of one who had managed to lead a virtuous
+life and, nevertheless, accumulate money; he was evidently satisfied
+with both achievements.  It was Barbour, Bunny Barbour.  He had been
+rather a good chap at school, with some taste for adventure.  He had
+had a wider horizon than most of them; Harry remembered how Bunny had
+envied him in New Zealand.  He looked prosperous and sedate now, and
+the world must have treated him well.  Harry spoke to him and was
+received with effusion.  "Trojan, old man!  Well, I never!  I'm damned
+if I'd have recognised you.  How you've changed!  I heard you were
+coming back; your boy told me--fine chap that, Trojan, you've every
+reason to be proud.  Well, to be sure!  Come in and have a whisky and
+see the new club-rooms!  Just been done up, and fairly knocks spots out
+of the old place."
+
+He was extremely cordial, but Harry felt that he was under criticism.
+Barbour's eyes looked him up and down; there was almost a challenge in
+his glance, as though he said, "We are quite ready to receive you if
+you are one of us.  But you must move with the times.  It's no good for
+you to be the same as in the old days.  We've all changed, and so must
+you!"
+
+The club was magnificent.  Harry stared in amazement at its luxury and
+comfort.  Its wonderful armchairs and soft carpets, its decorations and
+splendid space astonished him.  The old place had seemed rather fine to
+him as a boy, but he saw now how bad it had really been.  He sank into
+one of the armchairs with that strange sense of angry resentment that
+he had felt before in the street gaining hotly upon him.
+
+"It's good, isn't it?" said Barbour, smiling with an almost personal
+satisfaction, as though he had been largely responsible for the present
+improvements.  "The membership's going up like anything, and we're
+thinking of raising subscriptions.  Very decent set of fellows on it,
+too.  Oh! we're getting along splendidly here.  You must have noticed
+the change in the place!"
+
+"I should think I have," said Harry--the tone of his voice was a little
+regretful; "but it's not only here--it's the whole town.  It's
+smartened up beyond all knowing.  But I must confess that, dirty and
+dingy as they were, I regret the old club-rooms.  There was something
+extraordinarily homely and comfortable about them.  Do you remember
+that old armchair with the hole in it?  Gone long ago, of course, but I
+shall never sit in anything as nice again."
+
+"Ah, sentiment," said Barbour, smiling; "you won't find much of it in
+Pendragon nowadays.  It doesn't do.  Sentimentalists are always Tories,
+you'll find; always wanting to keep the old things, and all against
+progress.  We're all for progress now.  We've got some capital men on
+the Town Council--Harding, Belfast, Rogers, Snaith--you won't remember
+them.  There's some talk of pulling down the Cove and building new
+lodging-houses there.  We're crowded out in the summer, and there are
+more people every year."
+
+"Pull down the Cove?" said Harry, aghast; "but you can't.  It's been
+there for hundreds of years; it's one of the most picturesque places in
+Cornwall."
+
+"That's the only thing," said Barbour regretfully.  "It acts rather
+well as a draw for painters and that sort of person, and it makes some
+pretty picture postcards that are certain to sell.  Oh, I suppose
+they'll keep it for a bit, but it will have to go ultimately.
+Pendragon's changing."
+
+There was no doubt that it was, and Harry left the club some quarter of
+an hour later with dismay in his heart.  He had dreamed so long of the
+old times, the old beauties, the old quiet spirit of unprogressive
+content, that this new eagerness to be up-to-date and modern, this
+obvious determination to make Pendragon a watering-place of the most
+detestable kind, horrified him.
+
+As he passed down the crooked, uneven stone steps that led to the Cove,
+he felt indignant, almost unhappy.  It was as if a friend had been
+insulted in his presence and he had been unable to defend him.  They
+said that the Cove must go, must make way for modern jerry-built
+lodging-houses, in order that middle-class families from London and
+Manchester might be sufficiently accommodated.
+
+The Cove had meant a great deal to him when a boy--mystery, romance,
+pirates and smugglers, strange Cornish legends of saints and sinners,
+knights and men-at-arms.  The little inn, "The Bended Thumb," with its
+irregular red-brick floor and its smoke-stained oaken rafters, had been
+the theatre of many a stirring drama--now it was to be pulled down.  It
+was a wonderfully beautiful morning, and the little, twisting street of
+the Cove seemed to dance with its white shining cobbles in the light of
+the sun.  It was mysterious as ever, but colours lingered in every
+corner.  Purple mists seemed to hang about the dark alleys and twisting
+ways; golden shafts of light flashed through the open cottage doorways
+into rooms where motes of dust danced, like sprites, in the sun; smoke
+rose in little wreaths of pearl-grey blue into the cloudless sky; there
+was perfect stillness in the air, and from an overflowing pail that
+stood outside "The Bended Thumb," the clear drip, drip of the water
+could be heard falling slowly into the white cobbles, and close at hand
+was the gentle lap of the sea, as it ran up the little shingly beach
+and then dragged slowly back again with a soft, reluctant hiss.
+
+It was the Cove in its gentlest mood.  No one was about; the women were
+preparing the dinner and the men were away at work.  No strange faces
+peered from inhospitable doorways; there was nothing to-day that could
+give the stranger a sense of outlawry, of almost savage avoidance of
+ordinary customs and manners.  Harry's heart beat wildly as he walked
+down the street; there was no change here; it was as he had left it.
+He was at home here as he could never be in that new, strident
+Pendragon with its utter disregard of tradition and beauty.
+
+He saw that it was late and hurried back.  He had discovered a great
+deal during the morning.
+
+At lunch he spoke of the changes that he had seen.  Clare smiled.
+"Why, of course," she said.  "Twenty years is a long time, and
+Pendragon has made great strides.  For my part, I am very glad.  It
+brings money to the shopkeepers, and the place will be quite
+fashionable in a few years' time.  We're all on the side of progress up
+here," she added, laughing.
+
+"But the Cove?" said Harry.  "Barbour tells me that they are thinking
+of pulling it down to make way for lodging-houses or something."
+
+"Well, why not?" said Clare.  "It is really very much in the way where
+it is, and is, I am told, extremely insanitary.  We must be practical
+nowadays or we are nothing; you have to pay heavily for being romantic."
+
+Harry felt again that sensation of personal affront as though some
+close friend, bound to him by many ties, had been attacked violently in
+his presence.  It was unreasonable, he knew, but it was very strong.
+
+"And you, Robin," he said, "what do you think of it?"
+
+"I agree with Aunt Clare," answered Robin lightly, as though it were a
+matter that interested him very little.  "If the place is in the way,
+it ought to go.  He's a sensible man, Barbour."
+
+"The fact is, Harry," said Garrett, "you haven't changed quite as fast
+as the place has.  You'll see the point of view in a few weeks' time."
+
+He felt unreasonably, ridiculously angry.  They were all treating him
+as a child, as some one who would grow up one day perhaps, but was, at
+present at any rate, immature in thought and word; even with Robin
+there was a half-implied superiority.
+
+"But the Cove!" he cried vehemently.  "Is it nothing to any of you?
+After all that it has been to us all our lives, to our people, to the
+whole place, are you going to root it out and destroy it simply because
+the town isn't quite big enough to put up all the trippers that burden
+it in the summer?  Don't you see what you will lose if you do?  I
+suppose you think that I am sentimental, romantic, but upon my word I
+can't see that you have improved Pendragon very much in all these
+twenty years.  It was charming once--a place with individuality,
+independence; now it is like anywhere else--a miniature Brighton."
+
+He knew that he was wasting his words.  There was a pause, and he felt
+that they were all three laughing at him--yes, Robin as well.  He had
+only made a fool of himself; they could not understand how much he had
+expected during those weary years of waiting--how much he had expected
+and how much he had missed.
+
+Clare looked round the room and was relieved to find that only Beldam
+was present.  If one of the family was bent on being absurd, it was as
+well that there should only be one of the servants to hear him.
+
+"You know that you are to be on your trial this afternoon, Harry?" she
+said.
+
+"My trial?" he repeated, bewildered.
+
+"Yes--it's my at-home day, you know--first Thursdays--and, of course,
+they'll all come to see you.  We shall have the whole town----"  She
+looked at him a little anxiously; so much depended on how he behaved,
+and she wasn't completely reassured by his present manner.
+
+If he astonished them all this afternoon by saying things about the
+Cove like that, it would be too terrible!
+
+"How horrible!" he said, laughing.  "I'm very much afraid that I shan't
+do you justice, Clare.  I'm no good at small conversation."
+
+His treating it so lightly made it worse, and she wondered how she
+could force him to realise the seriousness of it.
+
+"All the nicest people in Pendragon," she said; "and they are rather
+ridiculously critical, and of course they talk."
+
+He looked at her and laughed.  "I wish they were Maories," he said, "I
+shouldn't be nearly so frightened!"
+
+She leant over the table to emphasise her words.  "But it really does
+make a difference, Harry.  First impressions count a lot.  You'll be
+nice to them, won't you?"
+
+The laugh had left his eyes.  It was serious, as he knew.  He had had
+no idea that he would have, so to speak, "funked" it so.  It was
+partly, of course, because of Robin.  He did not want to make a fool of
+himself before the boy.  He was already beginning to realise what were
+the things that counted with Robin.
+
+The real pathos of the situation lay in his terrible anxiety to do the
+right thing.  If he had taken it quietly, had trusted to his natural
+discretion and had left circumstances to develop of themselves, he
+would have, at any rate, been less self-conscious.  But he could not
+let it alone.  He had met Auckland society often enough and had,
+indeed, during his later years, been something of a society man, but
+there everything was straight-forward and simple.  There was no
+tradition, no convention, no standard.  Because other people did a
+thing was no reason why you should do it--originality was welcomed
+rather than otherwise.  But here there were so many things that you
+must do, and so very, very many that you mustn't; and if you were a
+Trojan, matters were still more complicated.
+
+It was after half-past four when he entered the drawing-room, and Clare
+was pouring out tea.  Five or six ladies were already there, and a
+clergyman of ample proportions and quite beautifully brushed hair.  He
+was introduced--"Mrs. le Terry--Miss Ponsonby--Miss Lucy Ponsonby--Miss
+Werrel--Miss Thisbe Werrel--Mr. Carrell--our rector, Harry."
+
+He shook hands and was terribly embarrassed.  He was conscious at once
+of that same sense of challenge that he had felt with Barbour in the
+morning.  They were not obviously staring, but he knew that they were
+rapidly summing him up.  He coloured foolishly, and stood for a moment
+awkwardly in the middle of the room.
+
+"Tea, Harry?" said Clare.  "Scones down by the fire.  Everybody else is
+all right--so look after yourself."
+
+He found himself by Mrs. le Terry, a small, rather pretty woman with
+wide-open blue eyes, and a mass of dark brown hair hidden beneath a
+large black hat that drooped over one ear.  She talked rapidly and with
+few pauses.  She was, he discovered, one of those persons whose
+conversation was a series of exclamation marks.  She was perpetually
+astonished, delighted, and disappointed with an amount of emotion that
+left her no breath and gave her hearers a small opinion of her
+sincerity.  "It's too terribly funny," she said, opening her eyes very
+wide indeed, "that you should have been in that amazing place, New
+Zealand--all sheep and Maories, isn't it?--and if there's one thing
+that I should be likely to detest more than mutton I'm sure it would be
+Maories.  Too dreadful and terrible!  But you look splendidly well, Mr.
+Trojan.  I never, really never, saw any one with such a magnificent
+colour!  I suppose that it's that gorgeous sun, and it never rains,
+does it?  Too delightful!  If there's one thing that I _do_ adore, it's
+the sun!"
+
+"Well, I don't know about that," said Harry, laughing; "we had rain
+pretty often in Auckland, and----"
+
+"Oh," she said, breaking in upon him, "that's too curious, because, do
+you know, I thought you never had rain at all, and I do detest rain so.
+It's too distressing when one has a new frock or must go to some stupid
+place to see some one.  But I'm too awfully glad that you've come here,
+Mr. Trojan.  We do want waking up a little, you know, and I'm sure
+you're the very person to do it.  It would be too funny if you were to
+wake us all up, you know."
+
+Harry was pleased.  There were no difficulties here, at any rate.
+Hadn't Robin mentioned Mrs. le Terry as one of the leaders of Fallacy
+Street?  He suddenly lost his shyness and wanted to become
+confidential.  He would tell her how glad he was to be back in England
+again; how anxious he was to enter into all the fun and to take his
+part in all the work.  He wondered what she felt about the Cove, and he
+hoped that she would be an enemy to its proposed destruction.
+
+But she yielded him no opportunity of speaking, and he speedily
+discovered her opinion on the Cove.  "And such changes since you went
+away!  Quite another place, I'm glad to say.  Pendragon is the sweetest
+little town, and even the dear, dirty trippers in the summer are the
+most delightful and amusing people you ever saw.  And now that they
+talk of pulling down that horrid, dirty old Cove, it will be too
+splendid, with lodging-houses and a bandstand; and they do talk of an
+Esplanade--that would be too delightful!"
+
+While she was speaking, he watched the room curiously.  Robin had come
+in and was standing by the fireplace talking to the Miss Werrels, two
+girls of the athletic type, with short skirts and their hair brushed
+tightly back over their foreheads.  He was leaning with one arm on the
+mantelpiece, and was looking down on the ladies with an air of languid
+interest: his eyes were restless, and every now and again glanced
+towards his father.  The two Miss Ponsonbys were massive ladies of any
+age over fifty.  Clad in voluminous black silk, with several little
+reticules and iron chains, their black hair bound in tight coils at the
+back of their heads, each holding stiffly her teacup with a tenacity
+that was worthy of a better cause, they were awe-inspiring and
+militant.  In spite of their motionless gravity, there was something
+aggressive in their frowning brows and cold, expressionless eyes.
+Harry thought that he had never seen two more terrifying persons.
+Clare was talking to the prosperous clergyman; he smiled continually,
+and now and again laughed in reply to some remark, but it was always
+something restrained and carefully guarded.  He was obviously a man who
+laid great store by exterior circumstances.  That the sepulchre should
+be filled with dead men's bones might cause him pain, but that it
+should be unwhitened would be, to him, a thing far more terrible.
+
+Clare turned round and addressed the room generally.
+
+"Mr. Carrell has just been telling me of the shocking state of the
+Cove," she said.  "Insanitary isn't the word, apparently.  Things have
+gone too far, and the only wise measure seems to be to root the place
+up completely.  It is sad, of course--it was a pretty old place, but it
+has had its day."
+
+"I've just been telling your brother about it, Miss Trojan," said Mrs.
+le Terry.  "It's quite too terrible, and I'm sure it's very bad for all
+of us to have anything quite so horrible so close to our houses.
+There's no knowing what dreadful things we may not all of us be
+catching at this very moment----"
+
+She was interrupted by two new arrivals--Mrs. and Miss Bethel.  They
+were a curious contrast.  The mother was the strangest old lady that
+Harry had ever seen.  She was tiny in stature, with snow-white hair and
+cheeks that were obviously rouged; she wore a dress of curious shot
+silk decorated with much lace, and her fingers were thick with jewels;
+a large hat with great purple feathers waved above her head.  It was a
+fantastic and gaudy impression that she made, and there was something
+rather pitiful in the contrast between her own obvious satisfaction
+with her personal appearance and the bizarre, almost vulgar, effect of
+such strangely contrasted colours.  She came mincing into the room with
+her head a little on one side, but in spite of, or perhaps because of,
+her rather anxious smiles, it was obvious that she was not altogether
+at her ease.
+
+The girl who followed her was very different.  Tall and very dark, she
+was clothed quite simply in grey; her hair was wonderful, although it
+was at present hidden to some extent by her hat, but its coal-black
+darkness had something intent, almost luminous, about it, so that,
+paradoxically, its very blackness held hidden lights and colours.  But
+it was her manner that Harry especially noticed.  She followed her
+mother with a strange upright carriage of the head and flash of the
+eyes that were almost defiant.  She was evidently expecting no very
+civil reception, and she seemed to face the room with hostility and no
+very ready eagerness to please.
+
+The effect on the room was marked.  Mrs. le Terry stopped speaking for
+a moment and rustled her skirts with a movement of displeasure, the
+Miss Ponsonbys clutched their teacups even tighter than before and
+their brows became more clouded, the Miss Werrels smiled confidentially
+at each other as though they shared some secret, and even Robin made a
+slight instinctive movement of displeasure.
+
+Harry felt at once an impulse of sympathy towards the girl.  It was
+almost as if this sudden hostility had made them friends: he liked that
+independence of her carriage, the pride in her eyes.  Mrs. le Terry's
+voice broke upon his ears.
+
+"Which must be, Mr. Trojan, extraordinarily provoking.  To go there, I
+mean, and find absolutely no one in--all that way, too, and a horribly
+wet night, and no train until nine o'clock."
+
+In his endeavours to pick up the thread of the conversation he lost
+sight of their meeting with Clare.
+
+She, indeed, had greeted them with all the Trojan coldness; nothing
+could have been more sternly formal than her "Ah!  Mrs. Bethel, I'm so
+glad that you were able to come.  So good of you to trouble to call.
+Won't you have some tea?  Do find a seat somewhere, Miss Bethel.  I
+hope you won't mind our all having finished."
+
+Harry was introduced and took them their tea.  It was obvious that, for
+some reason unknown to him, their presence there was undesired by all
+the company present, including Clare herself.  He also knew
+instinctively that their coming there had been some act of daring
+bravery, undertaken perhaps with the hope that, after all, it might not
+be as they had feared.
+
+The old lady's hand trembled as she took her teacup; the colour had
+fled from her face, and she sat there white and shaking.  As Harry bent
+over her with the scones, he saw to his horror that a tear was
+trembling on her eyelid; her throat was moving convulsively.
+
+At the same instant he knew that the girl's eyes were fixed upon his;
+he saw them imploring, beseeching him to help them.  It was a difficult
+situation, but he smiled back at the girl and turned to the old lady.
+
+"Do try these scones, Mrs. Bethel," he said; "they are still hot and I
+can recommend them strongly.  I'm so glad to meet you; my sister told
+me only this morning that she hoped you would come this afternoon, as
+she wanted us to become acquainted."
+
+It was a lie, but he spoke it without hesitation, knowing that it would
+reach Clare's ears.  The little lady smiled nervously and looked up at
+him.
+
+"Ah, Mr. Trojan," she said, "it's very good of you, I'm sure.  We are
+only too delighted.  It's not much gaiety that we can offer you here,
+but such as it is----"
+
+She was actually making eyes at him, the preposterous old person.  It
+was really a little pitiful, with her gorgeous colours, and her
+trembling assumption of a coquettish youth that had left her long ago.
+Her attempt to storm a difficult position by the worst of all possible
+tactics made him extremely sorry for the daughter, who was forced to
+look on in silence.  His thoughts, indeed, were with the girl--her
+splendid hair, her eyes, something wild, almost rebellious, that found
+a kindred note in himself; curiously, almost absurdly, they were to a
+certain degree allies although they had not spoken.  He talked to her a
+little and she mentioned the Cove.
+
+"It is a test of your Cornish ancestry," she said--"if you care for it,
+I mean.  So many people here look on it as a kind of
+rubbish-heap--picturesque but untidy--and it is the most beautiful
+place in the world."
+
+"I am glad that you feel like that," he said quietly; "it meant a lot
+to me as a boy.  I have been sorry to find how unpopular it is now; but
+I see that it still has its supporters."
+
+"Ah, you must talk to father," she said.  "He is always there.  We are
+a little old-fashioned, I'm afraid."
+
+There was in her voice, in her smile, something that stirred him
+strangely.  He felt as though he had met her before--a long while ago.
+He recognised little characteristics, the way that she pushed back her
+hair when she was excited, the beautiful curve of her neck when she
+raised her eyes to his, the rise and fall of her bosom--it was all
+strangely, individually familiar, as though he had often watched her do
+the same things in the same way before, in some other place....
+
+He had forgotten the others--Clare, Robin, the Miss Ponsonbys, Mrs. le
+Terry; and when they had all gone, he did not realise that he had in
+any way neglected them.
+
+After Miss Bethel had left the room, followed by the preposterous old
+mother, he stood at the window watching the lights of the town shining
+mistily through the black network of trees in the drive.  He must meet
+her again.
+
+Clare spoke to him and he turned round.  "I'm afraid you have made the
+Miss Ponsonbys enemies for life," she said; "you never spoke to them
+once.  I warned you that they were the most important people in the
+place."
+
+"Oh! the Miss Ponsonbys!" said Harry carelessly, and Robin stood amazed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+Robin's rooms, charming as they were, with their wide windows opening
+on to tossing sea and the sharp bend of the grey cliffs stretching to
+distant horizons, suffered from overcrowding.
+
+His sitting-room, with its dark red wallpaper and several good prints
+framed in dark oak--Burne-Jones' "Study for Cupid's Masque," Hunt's
+"Hireling Shepherd," and Whistler's "Battersea Bridge" were the
+best--might have been delightful had he learned to select; but at the
+present stage in his development he hated rejecting anything as long as
+it reached a certain standard.  His appreciations were wide and
+generous, and his knowledge was just now too superficial to permit of
+discerning criticism.  The room, again, suffered from a rather
+effeminate prettiness.  There were too many essentially trivial
+knick-knacks--some fans, silver ornaments, a charming little ebony
+clock, and a generous assortment of gay, elegantly worked cushions.
+The books, too, were all in handsome editions--Meredith in green
+leather with a gold-worked monogram, Pater in red half-morocco,
+Swinburne in light-blue with red and gold tooling--rich and to some
+extent unobtrusive, but reiterating unmistakably the first impression
+that the room had given, the mark of something superficial.
+
+Robin was there now, dressing for dinner.  He often dressed in his
+sitting-room, because his books were there.  He liked to open a book
+for a moment before fitting his studs into his shirt, and how charming
+to read a verse of Swinburne before brushing his hair--not so much
+because of the Swinburne, but rather because one went down to dinner
+with a pleasant feeling of culture and education.  To-night he was in a
+hurry.  People had stayed so late for tea (it was still the day after
+his father's arrival), and he had to be at the other end of the town by
+half-past seven.  What a nuisance going out to dinner was, and how he
+wished he wasn't going to-night.
+
+The fact that the dinner promised, in all probability, to afford
+something of a situation did not, as was often the case, give him very
+much satisfaction.  Indeed it was the reverse.  The situation was going
+to be extremely unpleasant, and there was every likelihood that Robin
+would look a fool.  Robin's education had been a continuous insistence
+on the importance of superficiality.  It had been enforced while he was
+still in the cradle, when a desire to kick and fight had been always
+checked by the quiet reiteration that it was not a thing that a Trojan
+did.  Temper was not a fault of itself, but an exhibition of it was;
+simply because self-control was a Trojan virtue.  At his private school
+he was taught the great code of brushing one's hair and leaving the
+bottom button of one's waistcoat undone.  Robbery, murder, rape--well,
+they had all played their part in the Trojan history; but the art of
+shaking hands and the correct method of snubbing a poor relation, if
+properly acquired, covered the crimes of the Decalogue.
+
+It was not that Robin, either then or afterwards, was a snob.  He
+thought no more of a duke or a viscount than of a plain commoner, but
+he learnt at once the lesson of "Us--and the Others."  If you were one
+of the others--if there was a hesitation about your aspirates, if you
+wore a tail-coat and brown boots--then you were non-existent, you
+simply did not count.
+
+When he left Eton for Cambridge, this Code of the Quite Correct Thing
+advanced beyond the art of Perfect Manners; it extended to literature
+and politics, and, in fact, everything of any importance.  He soon
+discovered what were the things for "Us" to read, whom were the
+painters for "Us" to admire, and what were the politics for "Us" to
+applaud.  He read Pater and Swinburne and Meredith, Bernard Shaw and
+Galsworthy and Joseph Conrad, and had quite definite ideas about all of
+them.  He admired Rickett's stage effects, and thought Sholto Douglas's
+portraits awfully clever, and, of course, Max's Caricatures were
+masterly.  I'm not saying that he did not really admire these
+things--in many things his appreciation was genuine enough--but if it
+should happen that he cared for "The Christian" or "God's Good Man," he
+speedily smothered his admiration and wondered how he could be such a
+fool.  To do him justice, he never had any doubt that those whose
+judgment he followed were absolutely right; but he followed them
+blindly, often praising books or pictures that he had never read or
+seen because it was the thing to do.  He read quite clever papers to
+"The Gracchi" at Cambridge, but the most successful of all, "The
+Philosophy of Nine-pins according to Bernard Shaw," was written before
+he had either seen or read any of that gentleman's plays.  He was, in
+fact, in great danger of developing into a kind of walking _Rapid
+Review_ of other people's judgments and opinions.  He examined nothing
+for himself; his standard of the things to be attained in this world
+was fixed and unalterable; to have an unalterable standard at
+twenty-one is to condemn oneself to folly for life.
+
+And now, as he was dressing for dinner, two things occupied his mind:
+firstly, his father; in the second place, the situation that he was to
+face in half-an-hour's time.
+
+With regard to his father, Robin was terribly afraid that he was one of
+the Others.  He had had his suspicions from the first--that violent
+entry, the loud voice and the hearty laugh, the bad-fitting clothes,
+and the perpetual chatter at dinner; it had all been noisy, unusual,
+even a little vulgar.  But his behaviour at tea that afternoon had
+grieved Robin very much.  How could he be so rude to the light and
+leading of Fallacy Street?  It could only have been through ignorance;
+it could only have been because he really did not know how truly great
+the Miss Ponsonbys were.  But then, to spend all his time with the
+Bethels, strange, odd people, with the queerest manners and an
+uncertain history, whom Fallacy Street had decided to cut!
+
+No, Robin was very much afraid that his father must be ranked with the
+Others.  He had not expected very much after all; New Zealand must be a
+strange place on all accounts; but his father seemed to show no desire
+to improve, he seemed quite happy and contented, and scarcely realised,
+apparently, the seriousness of his mistakes.
+
+But, after all, the question of his father was a very minor affair as
+compared with the real problem that he must answer that evening.  Robin
+had met Dahlia Feverel in the summer of the preceding year at
+Cambridge.  He had thought her extremely beautiful and very
+fascinating.  Most of his college friends had ladies whom they adored;
+it was considered quite a thing to do--and so Robin adored Dahlia.
+
+No one knew anything about the Feverels.  The mother was kept in the
+background and the father was dead--there was really only Dahlia; and
+when Robin was with her he never thought of questioning her as to
+antecedents of earlier history.  For two months he loved her
+passionately, chiefly because he saw her very seldom.  When he went
+down at the end of the summer term he felt that she was the only thing
+in the world worth living for.  He became Byronic, scowled at Aunt
+Clare, and treated Garrett's cynicism with contempt.  He wrote letters
+to her every day full of the deepest sentiments and a great deal of
+amazingly bad poetry.  Clare wondered what was the matter, but asked no
+questions, and was indeed far too firmly convinced of the efficacy of
+the Trojan system to have any fears of mental or moral danger.
+
+Then Miss Feverel made a mistake; she came with her mother to stay at
+Pendragon.  For the first week Robin was blissfully happy--then he
+began to wonder.  The best people in Pendragon would have nothing to do
+with the Feverels.  Aunt Clare, unaware that they were friends of
+Robin's, pronounced them "commonly vulgar."  The mother was more in
+evidence than she had been at Cambridge, and Robin passed from dislike
+to horror and from horror to hatred.  Dahlia, too, seemed to have
+changed.  Robin had loved her too passionately hitherto to think of the
+great Division.  But soon he began to wonder.  There were certain
+things--little unimportant trifles, of course--that made him rather
+uneasy; he began to have a horrible suspicion that she was one of the
+Others; and then, once the suspicion was admitted, proof after proof
+came forward to turn it into certainty.
+
+How horrible, and what an escape!  His visits to the little
+lodging-house overlooking the sea where Dahlia played the piano so
+enchantingly, and Mrs. Feverel, a solemn, rather menacing figure,
+played silently and mournfully continuous Patience, were less and less
+frequent.  He was determined to break the matter off; it haunted his
+dreams, it troubled him all day; he was forced to keep his
+acquaintanceship with them secret, and was in perpetual terror lest
+Aunt Clare should discover it.  He had that most depressing of
+unwished-for possessions, a skeleton; its cupboard-door swung
+creakingly in the wind, and its bones rattled in his ears.
+
+No, the thing must come to an end at once, and completely.  They had
+invited him to dinner and he had accepted, meaning to use the occasion
+for the contemplated separation.  He had thought often enough of what
+he would say--words that had served others many times before in similar
+situations.  He would refer to their youth, the affair should be a
+midsummer episode, pleasant to look back upon when they were both older
+and married to more worthy partners; he would be a brother to her and
+she should be a sister to him--but, thank God for his escape!
+
+He believed that the Trojan traditions would carry him through.  He was
+not quite sure what she would do--cry probably, and remonstrate; but it
+would soon be over and he would be at peace once more.
+
+He dressed slowly and with his usual care.  It would be easier to speak
+with authority if there was no doubt about his appearance.  He decided
+to walk, and he passed through the garden into the town, his head a
+buzzing repetition of the words that he meant to say.  It was a
+beautiful evening; a soft mist hid the moon's sharper outline, but she
+shone, a vague circlet of light through a little fleet of fleecy white
+cloud.  Although it was early in September, some of the trees were
+beginning to change their dark green into faint gold, and the sharp
+outline of their leaves stood out against the grey pearl light of the
+sky.  As he passed into the principal street of Pendragon, Robin drew
+his coat closer about him, like some ancient conspirator.  He had no
+wish to be stopped by an inquisitive friend; his destination demanded
+secrecy.  Soon the lights and asphalt of the High Street gave place to
+dark, twisting paths and cobbled stones.  These obscure and narrow ways
+were rather pathetic survivals of the old Pendragon.  At night they had
+an almost sinister appearance; the lamps were at very long intervals
+and the old houses leaned over the road with a certain crazy
+picturesqueness that was, at the same time, exceedingly dangerous.
+There were few lights in the windows and very few pedestrians on the
+cobbles; the muffled roar of the sea sounded close at hand.  And,
+indeed, it sprang upon you quite magnificently at a turn of the road.
+To-night it scarcely moved; a ripple as the waves licked the sand, a
+gentle rustle as of trees in the wind when the pebbles were dragged
+back with the ebb--that was all.  It seemed strangely mysterious under
+the misty, uncertain light of the moon.
+
+The houses facing the sea loomed up darkly against the horizon--a black
+contrast with the grey of sea and sky.  It was No. 4 where the Feverels
+lived.  There was a light in the upper window and some one was playing
+the piano.  Robin hesitated for some minutes before ringing the bell.
+When it had rung he heard the piano stop.  For a few seconds there was
+no sound; then there were steps in the passage and the door was opened
+by the very dowdy little maid-of-all-work whose hands were always dirty
+and whose eyes were always red, as though with perpetual weeping.
+
+With what different eyes he saw the house now!  On his first visit, the
+sun had dazzled his eyes; there had been flowers in the drawing-room
+and she had come to meet him in some charming dress; he had stood
+enraptured at the foot of the stairs, deeming it Paradise.  Now the
+lamp in the hall flared with the wind from the door, and he was acutely
+conscious of a large rent in the dirty, faded carpet.  The house was
+perfectly still--it might have been a place of ghosts, with the moon
+shining mistily through the window on the stairs and the strange,
+insistent murmur of the sea beating mysteriously through the closed
+doors!
+
+There was no one in the drawing-room, and its appalling bad taste
+struck him as it had never done before.  How could he have been blind
+to it?  The glaring yellow carpet, the bright purple lamp-shades, the
+gilt looking-glass over the fireplace, and, above all, dusty, drooping
+paper flowers in bright china vases ranged in a row by the window.  Of
+course, it might be merely the lodgings.  Lodgings always were like
+that--but to live with them for months!  To attempt no change, to leave
+the flowers, and the terrible oil-painting "Lost in the Snow"--an
+obvious British Public appeal to a pathos that simply shrieked at you,
+with its hideous colours and very material snow-storm.  No, Robin could
+only repeat once more, What an escape!
+
+But had he, after all, escaped?  He was not quite sure, as he stood by
+the window waiting.  It might be difficult, and he was unmistakably
+nervous.
+
+Dahlia closed the door, and stood there for a moment before coming
+forward.
+
+"Robin--at last!" and she held out both hands to him.  They were the
+same words that his aunt had used to his father last night, he
+remembered foolishly, and at once they seemed strained, false,
+ridiculous!
+
+He took her hand and said something about being in time; then, as she
+seemed to expect it, he bent down and kissed her.
+
+She was pretty in a rather obvious way.  If there had been less
+artificiality there would have been more charm; of middle height, she
+was slim and dark, and her hair, parted in the middle, fell in waves
+over her temples.  She affected a rather simple, aesthetic manner that
+suited her dark eyes and rather pale complexion.  You said that she was
+intense until you knew her.  To-night she wore a rather pretty dress of
+some dark-brown stuff, cut low at the neck, and with her long white
+arms bare.  She had obviously taken a good deal of trouble this
+evening, and had undoubtedly succeeded.
+
+"And so Sir Robert has deigned to come and see his humble dependants at
+last!" she said, laughing.  "A whole fortnight, Robin, and you've not
+been near us."
+
+"I'm dreadfully sorry," he said, "but I've really been too terribly
+busy.  The Governor coming home and one thing and another----"
+
+He felt gauche and awkward, the consciousness of what he must say after
+dinner weighed on him heavily.  He could hardly believe that there had
+ever been a time when he had talked eagerly, passionately--he cursed
+himself for a fool.
+
+"Yes, we've been very lonely and you're a naughty boy," said Dahlia.
+"But now you are here I won't scold you if you promise to tell me
+everything you've done since last time----"
+
+"Oh! done?" said Robin vaguely; "I really don't know--the usual sort of
+thing, I suppose--not much to do in Pendragon at any time."
+
+She had been looking at him curiously while he was speaking.  Now she
+suddenly changed her voice.  "I've been so lonely without you, dear,"
+she said, speaking almost in a whisper; "I fancied--of course it was
+silly of me--that perhaps there was some one else--that you were
+getting a little tired of me.  I was--very unhappy.  I nearly wrote,
+but I was afraid that--some one might see it.  Letters are always
+dangerous.  But it's very lonely here all day--with only mother.  If
+you could come a little oftener, dear--it means everything to me."
+
+Her voice was a little husky as though tears were not far away, and she
+spoke in little short sentences--she seemed to find it hard to say the
+words.
+
+Robin suddenly felt a brute.  How could he ever tell her of what was in
+his mind?  If it was really so much to her he could never leave
+her--not at once like that; he must do it gradually.
+
+She was sitting by him on the sofa and looked rather delightful.  She
+had the pathetic expression that always attracted him, and he felt very
+sorry indeed.  How blank her days would be without him!  Part of the
+romance had always been his rôle of King Cophetua, and tears sprang to
+his eyes as he thought of the poor beggar-maid, alone, forlornly
+weeping, when he had finally withdrawn his presence.
+
+"I think it is partly the sea," she said, putting her hand gently on
+his sleeve.  "When one is sitting quite alone here in the evening with
+nothing to do and no one to talk to, one hears it so plainly--it is
+almost frightening.  You know, Robin, old boy, I don't care for
+Pendragon very much.  I only came here because of you--and now--if you
+never come to see us----"
+
+She stopped with a little catch in her voice.  Her hand fastened on his
+sleeve; their heads were very close together and her hair almost
+brushed his cheek.
+
+He really was an awful brute, but at the same time it was rather
+nice--that she should care so much.  It would be terrible for her when
+he told her what was in his mind.  She might even get very ill--he had
+read of broken hearts often enough; and she was extraordinarily nice
+just now--he didn't want to hurt her.  But still a fellow must think of
+his career, his future, and that sort of thing.
+
+Mrs. Feverel entered--ponderous, solemn, dressed in a black silk that
+trails behind her in funereal folds.  Her hands were clammy to the
+touch and her voice was a deep bass.  She said very little, but sat
+down silently by the window, forming, as she always did, a dark and
+extremely solid background.  Robin hated and feared her.  There was
+something sinister in her silence--something ominous in her perpetual
+black.  He had never heard her laugh.
+
+Dahlia was laughing now.  "I'm a selfish brute, Bobby," she said, "to
+bother you with my silly little complaints when we want to be cheerful.
+We'll have a good time this evening, won't we?  We'll sing some of
+those Rubinstein's duets after dinner, and I've got a new song that
+I've been learning especially for you.  And then there's your father; I
+do want to hear all about him so much--he must be so interesting,
+coming from New Zealand.  Mother and I saw a gentleman in the town this
+morning that we thought must be him.  Tall and brown, with a light
+brown moustache and a dark blue suit.  It must be splendid to have a
+father again after twenty years without him."
+
+Her voice dropped a little, as though to refer gently to her own
+fatherless condition.
+
+Mrs. Feverel, a dark shadow in the window, sighed heavily.
+
+"Oh! the Governor!" said Robin, a little irritably.  "No!  It's rather
+difficult--he doesn't seem to know what to do and say.  I suppose it's
+being in New Zealand so long!  It makes it rather difficult for me."
+
+He spoke as one suffering under an unjust accusation.  It was bad luck,
+and he wondered vaguely why Dahlia had been so interested; why should
+she care, unless, and the idea struck him with horror, she already
+regarded him as a prospective father-in-law?
+
+Dinner was announced by the grimy little maid.  Robin took the dark
+figure of Mrs. Feverel on his arm and made some hesitating remark about
+the weather--but he had the curious and unpleasant sensation of her
+seeing through him most thoroughly and clearly.  He felt ridiculously
+like a captive, and his doubts as to his immediate escape increased.
+The gaudy drawing-room, the dingy stairs, the gas hissing in the hall,
+had been, in all conscience, depressing enough, but now this heavy,
+mute, ominous woman, trailing her black robes so funereally behind her,
+seemed, to his excited fancy, some implacable Frankenstein created by
+his own thrice-cursed folly.
+
+The dinner was not a success.  The food was bad, but that Robin had
+expected.  As he faced the depression of it, he was more than ever
+determined to end it, conclusively, that evening, but Mrs. Feverel's
+gloom and Dahlia's little attempts at coquettish gaiety frightened him.
+The conversation, supported mainly by Dahlia, fell into terrible
+lapses, and the attempts to start it again had the unhappy air of
+desperate remedies doomed to failure.  Dahlia's pathetic glances failed
+of their intent.  Robin was too deeply engaged in his own gloomy
+reflections to notice them, but her eyes filled with tears, and at last
+her efforts ceased and a horrible, gloomy silence fell like a choking
+fog upon them.
+
+"Will you smoke, Robin?" she said, when at last the dessert, in the
+shape of some melancholy oranges and one very attenuated banana, was on
+the table.  "Egyptian or Turkish--or will you have a pipe?"
+
+He took a cigarette clumsily from the box and his fingers trembled as
+he lit first hers and then his own--he was so terribly afraid of
+cutting a ridiculous figure.  He sat down again and beat a tattoo on
+the tablecloth.  Mrs. Feverel, with some grimly muttered excuse, left
+the room.  She watched him a moment from the other side of the table
+and then she came over to him.  She bent over his chair, leaning her
+hands on his shoulders.
+
+"Robin, what is it?" she said.  "What's happened?"
+
+"Nothing," he said gloomily.  "It's all right----"
+
+"Oh! do you suppose I haven't seen?"  She bent closer to him and
+pressed her cheek against his.  "Robin, old boy--you're not getting
+tired of me?  You're tired or cross to-night--I don't know.  I've been
+very patient all this time--waiting for you--hoping that you would
+come--longing for you--and you never came--all these many weeks.  Then
+I thought that, perhaps, you were too busy or were afraid of people
+talking--but, at last, there was to be to-night; and I've looked
+forward to it--oh! so much!--and now you're like this!"
+
+She was nearly crying, and there was that miserable little catch in her
+voice.  He did feel an awful cad--he hadn't thought that she would
+really care so much as this; but still it had to be done some time, and
+this seemed a very good opportunity.
+
+He cleared his throat, and, beating the carpet with his foot, tried to
+speak with dignity as well as feeling--but he only succeeded in being
+patronising.
+
+"You know," he said quickly, and without daring to look at her, "one's
+had time to think.  I don't mean that I'm sorry it's all been as it
+has--we've had a ripping time--but I'm not sure--one can't be
+certain--that it's best for it to go on--quite like this.  You see, old
+girl, it's so damned serious.  Of course my people have ideas about my
+marrying--of course the Trojans have always had to be careful.  People
+expect it of them----"
+
+He stopped for a moment.
+
+"You mean that I'm not good enough?"
+
+She had stepped back from his chair and was standing with her back to
+the wall.  He got up from his chair and turned round and faced her,
+leaning with his hands on the table.  But he could not face her for
+long; his eyes dropped before the fury in hers.
+
+"No, no, Dahlia--how stupid of you!--of course it's not that.  It's
+really rather unkind of you to make it harder for me.  It's difficult
+enough to explain.  You're good enough for any one, but I'm not quite
+sure, dear, whether we'd be quite the people to marry!  We'd be
+splendid friends, of course--we'll always be that--but we're both very
+young, and, after all, it's rather hard for one to know.  It was
+splendid at Cambridge, but I don't think we quite realised----"
+
+"You mean you didn't," she broke in quickly.  "I know well enough.
+Some one's been speaking to you, Robin."
+
+"No--nobody."  He looked at her fiercely.  She had hurt his pride.  "As
+if I'd be weak enough to let that make any difference.  No one has said
+a word--only----"
+
+"Only--you've been thinking that we're not quite good enough for
+you--that we'd soil your Trojan carpets and chairs--that we'd stain
+your Trojan relations.  I--I know--I----"
+
+And then she broke down altogether.  She was kneeling by the table with
+her head in her arms, sobbing as though her heart would break.
+
+"Oh, I say, Dahlia, don't!  I can't bear to see you cry--it will be all
+right, old girl, to-morrow--it will really--and then you will see that
+it was wiser.  You will thank me for speaking about it.  Of course
+we'll always be good friends.  I----"
+
+"Robin, you don't mean it.  You can't!"  She had risen from her knees
+and now stood by him, timidly, with one hand on his arm.  "You have
+forgotten all those splendid times at Cambridge.  Don't you remember
+that evening on the Backs?  Just you and I alone when there was that
+man singing on the other side of the water, when you said that we would
+be like that always--together.  Oh, Robin dear, it can't have been all
+nothing to you."
+
+She looked very charming with her eyes a little wet and her hair a
+little dishevelled.  But his resolution must not weaken--now that he
+had progressed so far, he must not go back.  But he put his arm round
+her.
+
+"Really, old girl, it is better--for both of us.  We can wait.  Perhaps
+in a few years' time it will seem different again.  We can think about
+it then.  I don't want to seem selfish, but you must think about me a
+little.  You must see how hard it has been for me to say this, and that
+it has only been with the greatest difficulty that I've been strong
+enough.  Believe me, dear, it is harder for me than it is for you--much
+harder."
+
+He was really getting on very well.  He had had no idea that he would
+do it so nicely.  Poor girl! it was hard luck--perhaps he had led her
+to expect rather too much--those letters of his had been rather too
+warm, a little indiscreet.  But no doubt she would marry some excellent
+man of her own class--in a few years she would look back and wonder how
+she had ever had the fortune to know so intimately a man of Robin's
+rank!  Meanwhile, the scene had better end as soon as possible.
+
+She had let him keep his arm round her waist, and now she suddenly
+leant back and looked up in his face.
+
+"Robin, darling," she whispered, "you can't mean it--not that we should
+part like this.  Why, think of the times that we have had--the
+splendid, glorious times--and all that we're going to have.  Think of
+all that you've said to me, over and over again----"
+
+She crept closer to him.  "You love me really, dear, all the same.
+It's only that some one's been talking to you and telling you that it's
+foolish.  But that mustn't make any difference.  We're strong enough to
+face all the world.  You know that you said you were in the summer, and
+I'm sure that you are now.  Wait till to-morrow, dear, and you'll see
+it all differently."
+
+"I tell you nobody's been talking," he said, drawing his arm away.
+"Besides, if they did, it wouldn't make any difference.  No, Dahlia,
+it's got to stop.  We're too young to know, and besides, it would be
+absurd anyway.  I know it's bad luck on you.  Perhaps I said rather too
+much in the summer.  But of course we'll always be good friends.  I
+know you'll see it as I do in a little time.  We've both been
+indiscreet, and it's better to draw back now than later--really it is."
+
+"Do you mean it, Robin?"
+
+She stood facing him with her hands clenched; her face was white and
+her eyes were blazing with fury.
+
+"Yes, of course," he said.  "I think it's time this ended----"
+
+"Not before I've told you what I think of you," she cried.  "You're a
+thief and a coward--you've stolen a girl's love and then you're afraid
+to face the world--you're afraid of what people will say.  If you don't
+love me, you're tied to me, over and over again.  You've made me
+promises--you made me love you--and now when your summer amusement is
+over you fling me aside--you and your fine relations!  Oh! you
+gentlemen!  It would be a good thing for the world if we were rid of
+the whole lot of you!  You coward!  You coward!"
+
+He was taken aback by her fury.
+
+"I say--Dahlia--" he stammered, "it's unfair----"
+
+"Oh! yes!" she broke in, "unfair, of course, to you! but nothing to
+me--nothing to me that you stole my love--robbed me of it like a common
+thief--pretended to love me, promised to marry me, and now--now--Oh!
+unfair! yes, always for the man, never for the girl--she doesn't count!
+She doesn't matter at all.  Break her heart and fling it away and
+nobody minds--it's as good as a play!"
+
+She burst into tears, and stood with her head in her hands, sobbing as
+though her heart would break.  It was a most distressing scene!
+
+"Really, really, Dahlia," said Robin, feeling extremely uncomfortable
+(it was such a very good thing, he thought, that none of his friends
+could see him), "it's no use your taking it like this.  I had better
+go--we can't do any good by talking about it now.  To-morrow, when we
+can look at it calmly, it will seem different."
+
+He moved to the door, but she made another attempt and put her hand
+timidly on his arm to stop him.
+
+"No, no, Robin, I didn't mean what I said--not like that.  I didn't
+know what I was saying.  Oh, I love you, dear, I love you!  I can't let
+you go like that.  You don't know what it means to me.  You are taking
+everything from me--when you rob a girl of her love, of her heart, you
+leave her nothing.  If you go now, I don't care what happens to
+me--death--or worse, That's how you make a bad woman, Robin.  Taking
+her love from her and then letting her go.  You are taking her soul!"
+
+But he placed her gently aside.  "Nonsense, Dahlia," he said.  "You are
+excited to-night.  You exaggerate.  You will meet a man much worthier
+than myself, and then you will see that I was right."
+
+He opened the door and was gone.
+
+She sat down at the table.  She heard him open and shut the hall door,
+and then his steps echoed down the street, and at last there was
+silence.  She sat at the table with her head bent, her eyes gazing at
+the oranges and the bananas.  The house was perfectly silent, and her
+very heart seemed to have ceased to beat.  Of course she did not
+realise it; it seemed to her still as though he would come back in a
+moment and put his arms round her and tell her that it was all a
+game--just to see if she had really cared.  But the silence of the
+street and the house was terrible.  It choked her, and she pulled at
+her frock to loosen the tightness about her throat.  It was cruel of
+him to have gone away like that--but of course he would come back.
+Only why was that cold misery at her heart?  Why did she feel as if
+some one had placed a hand on her and drawn all her life away, and left
+her with no emotion or feeling--only a dull, blank, despair, like a
+cold fog through which no sun shone?
+
+For she was beginning to realise it slowly.  He had gone away, after
+telling her, brutally, frankly, that he was tired of her--that he had,
+indeed, never really cared for her.  That was it--he had never cared
+for her--all those things that he had promised in the summer had been
+false, words without any meaning.  All that idyll had been hollow, a
+sham, and she had made it the centre of her world.
+
+She got up from the table and swayed a little as she stood.  She
+pressed her hands against her forehead as though she would drive into
+her brain the fact that there would be no one now--no one at all--it
+was all a lie, a lie, a lie!
+
+The door opened softly and Mrs. Feverel stole in.  "Dahlia--what has he
+done?"
+
+She looked at her as though she could not see her.
+
+"Oh, nothing," she said slowly.  "He did nothing.  Only it's all
+over--there is not going to be any more."
+
+And then, as though the full realisation of it had only just been borne
+in upon her, she sat down at the table again and burst into passionate
+crying.
+
+Mrs. Feverel watched her.  "I knew it was coming, my dear--weeks ago.
+You know I told you, only you wouldn't listen.  Lord! it was plain
+enough.  He'd only been playing the same game as all the rest of them."
+
+Dahlia dried her eyes fiercely.  "I'm a fool to make so much of it,"
+she said.  "I wasn't good enough--he said--not good enough.  His people
+wouldn't like it and the rest--Oh!  I've been a fool, a fool!"
+
+Her mood changed to anger again.  Even now she did not grasp it fully,
+but he had insulted her.  He had flung back in her face all that she
+had given him.  Injured pride was at work now, and for a moment she
+hated him so that she could have killed him gladly had he been there.
+But it was no good--she could not think about it clearly; she was
+tired, terribly tired.
+
+"I'm tired to death, mother," she said.  "I can't think to-night."
+
+She stumbled a little as she turned to the door.
+
+"At least," said Mrs. Feverel, "there are the letters."
+
+But Dahlia had scarcely heard.
+
+"The letters?" she said.
+
+"That he wrote in the summer.  You have them safe enough?"
+
+But the girl did not reply.  She only climbed heavily up the dark
+stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+Clare Trojan was having her breakfast in her own room.  It was ten
+o'clock, and a glorious September morning, and the sparrows were
+twittering on the terrace outside as though they considered it highly
+improper for any one to have breakfast between four walls when Nature
+had provided such a splendid feast on the lawn.
+
+Clare was reading a violent article in the _National Review_ concerning
+the inadequacy of our present solution of the housing problem; but it
+did not interest her.
+
+If the world had only been one large Trojan family there would have
+been no problem.  The trouble was that there were Greeks.  She did
+dimly realise their existence, but the very thought of them terrified
+her.  Troy must be defended, and there were moments when Clare was
+afraid that its defenders were few; but she blinded herself to the
+dangers of attack.  "There are no Greeks, there _are_ no Greeks."
+Clare stood alone on the Trojan walls and defied that world of
+superstition and pagan creeds.  With the armour of tradition and an
+implicit belief in the watchword of all true Trojan leaders, "Qui dort
+garde," she warded the sacred hearths; but there were moments when her
+eyes were opened and signs were revealed to her of another
+world--something in which Troy could have no place; and then she was
+afraid.
+
+She was considering Harry, his coming, and his probable bearing on
+present conditions, and she knew that once again the Trojan walls were
+in danger.  It seemed to her, as she sat there, cruelly unfair that the
+son of the House, the man who in a little while would stand before the
+world as the head of the Trojan tradition, should be the chief
+instrument in the attempted destruction of the same.  She had not liked
+Harry in the old days.  She had always, even as a girl, a very stern
+idea of the dignity of the House.  Harry had never fulfilled this idea,
+had never even attempted to.  He had been wild, careless,
+undisciplined, accompanying strange uncouth persons on strange uncouth
+adventures; he had been almost a byword in the place.  No, she had not
+liked him; she had almost hated him at one time.  And then after he had
+gone away she had deliberately forgotten him; she had erased his name
+from the fair sheet of the Trojan record, and had hoped that the House
+would never more be burdened by his undisciplined history.  Then she
+had heard that there was a son and heir, and her one thought had been
+of capture, deliverance of the new son of the House from his father's
+influence.  She was not deliberately cruel in her determination; she
+saw that the separation must hurt the father, but she herself was ready
+to make sacrifice for the good of the House and she expected the same
+self-denial in others.  Harry made no difficulties.  New Zealand was no
+place for a lonely widower to bring up his boy, and Robin was sent
+home.  From that moment he was the centre of Clare's world; much
+self-denial can make a woman good, only maternity can make her divine.
+To bring the boy up for the House, to tutor him in all the little and
+big things that a Trojan must know and do, to fit him to take his place
+at the head of the family on a later day; all these things she laboured
+for, day and night without ceasing, and without divided interests.  She
+loved the boy, too, passionately, with more than a mother's love, and
+now she looked back over what had been her life-work with pride and
+satisfaction.  She had tried to forget Harry.  She hoped, although she
+never dared to face the thought in her heart, that he would die there,
+away in that foreign country, without coming back to them again.  Robin
+was hers now; she had educated him, loved him, scolded him--he was all
+hers, she would brook no division.  Then, when she had heard that Harry
+was to come home, it had been at first more than she could bear.  She
+had burst into wild incoherent protests; she had prayed that an
+accident might happen to him and that he might never reach home.  And
+then the Trojan pride and restraint had come to her aid.  She was
+ashamed, bewildered, that she could have sunk to such depths; she
+prepared to meet him calmly and quietly; she even hoped that, perhaps,
+he might be so changed that she would welcome him.  And, after all, he
+would in a little time be head of the House.  Robin, too, was strongly
+under her influence, and it was unlikely that he would leave her for a
+man whom he had never known, for whom he could not possibly care.
+
+It was this older claim of hers with regard to Robin that did, she
+felt, so obviously strengthen her position, and now that Harry had
+really returned, she thought that her fears need not trouble her much
+longer--he did all the things that Robin disliked most.  His
+boisterousness, heartiness, and good-fellowship, dislike of everyday
+conventionality, would all, she knew, count against him with Robin.
+She had seen him shrink on several occasions, and each time she had
+been triumphantly glad.  For she was frightened, terribly frightened.
+Harry was threatening to take from her the one great thing around which
+her life was centred; if he robbed her of Robin he robbed her of
+everything, and she must fight to keep him.  That it would come to a
+duel between them she had long foreseen, she had governed for so long
+that she would not easily yield her place now; but she had not known
+that she would feel as she did about Robin, she had not known that she
+would be jealous--jealous of every look and word and motion.  She had
+never known what jealousy was before, but now in the silence of the
+golden, sunlit room, with only the twittering of the birds on the lawn
+to disturb her thoughts, she faced the facts honestly without
+shrinking, and she knew that she hated her brother.  Oh! why couldn't
+he go back again to his sheep-shearing!  Why had he come to disturb
+them!  It was not his environment, it was not his life at all!  She
+felt that they could never lead again that same quiet, ordered
+existence; like a gale of wind he had burst their doors and broken
+their windows, and now the house was open, desolate, to the world.
+
+She went up to her father's room, as was her custom every morning after
+breakfast.  He was lying at his open window, watching, with those
+strange, restless eyes of his, the great expanse of sea and sky
+stretching before him.  His room was full of light and air.  Its white
+walls and ceiling, great bowls of some of the last of the summer's
+roses, made it seem young and vigorous and alive.  It was almost a
+shock to see that huddled, dying old man with his bent head and
+trembling hands--but his eyes were young, and his heart.
+
+As she looked at him, she wondered why she had never really cared for
+him.  At first she had been afraid; then, as she grew older and a
+passionate love for and pride in the family as a conservative and
+ancient institution developed in her, that fear became respect, and she
+looked up to her father from a distance, admiring his reserve and pride
+but never loving him; and now that respect had become pity, and above
+all a great longing that he might live for many, many years, securing
+the household gods from shame and tending the fire on the Trojan
+hearth.  For at the moment of his death would come the crisis--the
+question of the new rule.  At one time it had seemed certain that Robin
+would be king, with herself a very vigilant queen-regent.  But now that
+was all changed.  Harry had come home, and it was into his hands that
+the power would fall.
+
+She had often wondered that she knew her father so little.  He had
+always been difficult to understand; a man of two moods strongly
+opposed--strangely taciturn for days together, and then brilliantly
+conversational, amusing, and a splendid companion.  She had never known
+which of these attitudes was the real one, and now that he was old she
+had abandoned all hope of ever answering the question.  His moods were
+more strongly contrasted than ever.  He often passed quickly from one
+to the other.  If she had only known which was the real one; she felt
+at times that his garrulity was a blind--that he watched her almost
+satirically whilst he talked.  She feared his silences terribly, and
+she used often to feel that a moment was approaching when he would
+reveal to her definitely and finally some plot that he had during those
+many watchful years been forming.  She knew that he had never let her
+see his heart--he had never taken her into his confidence.  She had
+tried to establish some more intimate relationship, but she had failed;
+and now, for many years, she had left it at that.
+
+But she wanted to know what he thought of Harry.  She had waited for a
+sign, but he had given none; and although she had watched him carefully
+she had discovered nothing.  He had not mentioned his son--a stranger
+might have thought that he had not noticed him.  But Clare knew him too
+well to doubt that he had come to some definite conclusion in the
+matter.
+
+She bustled cheerfully about the room, humming a little tune and
+talking to him, lightly and with no apparent purpose.  He watched the
+gulls fly past the open window, his eyes rested on a golden flash of
+sun that struck some shining roof in the Cove, but his mind was back in
+the early days when he had played his game with the best and had seen
+the bright side of the world.
+
+"He was a rake, Jack Crayle"--he seemed scarcely conscious that Clare
+was in the room--"a rake but a good heart, and an amusing fellow too.
+I remember meeting old Rendle and Hawdon Sallust--Hawdon of the
+eighties, you know--not the old man--he kept at home--all three of them
+at White's, Rendle and Sallust and Crayle; Jack bet Rendle he wouldn't
+stop the next man he met in the street and claim him as an old friend
+and bring him in--and, by Jove, he took it and brought him in,
+too--sort of tramp chap he was, too--dirty, untidy fellow--but Rendle
+was game serious--by Gad, he was.  Said he was an old friend that had
+fallen on evil times--gave him a drink and won the bet--'63 that
+was--the year Bailey won that polo match against old Tom Radley--all
+the town was talking of it.  By Gad, he could ride, Bailey could.
+Why----"
+
+"It's time for your medicine, father," said Clare, breaking ruthlessly
+in upon the reminiscences.
+
+"Eh, dear, yes," he said, looking at her curiously.  "You're never
+late, Clare, always up to time.  Yes, yes, well, well; in '63 that was.
+I remember it like yesterday--old Tom--particular friend he was of mine
+then, although we broke afterwards--my fault too, probably, about a
+horse it was.  I----"
+
+But Clare gave him his medicine, first tying a napkin round his neck
+lest she should spill the drops.  He looked at her, smiling, over the
+napkin.
+
+"You were always a girl for method," he said again; "not like Harry."
+
+She looked at him quickly, but could guess nothing; she was suddenly
+frightened, as she so often was when he laughed like that.  She always
+expected that some announcement would follow.  It was almost as if he
+had threatened her.
+
+"Harry?" she said.  "No.  But he is very like he used to be in some
+ways.  It is nice to have him back again--but--well, he will find
+Pendragon rather different from Auckland, I'm afraid."
+
+Sir Jeremy said nothing.  He lay there without moving; Clare untied the
+napkin, and put back the medicine, and wheeled the chair into a sunnier
+part of the room and away from the window.
+
+"You must get on with Harry, Clare," he said suddenly, sharply.
+
+"Why, yes," she answered, laughing a little uneasily.  "Of course we
+get on.  Only his way of looking at things was always a little
+different--even, perhaps, a little difficult to understand"; and then,
+after a little pause, "I am stupid, I know.  It was always hard for me
+to see like other people."
+
+But he was not listening to her.  He was smiling at the sun, and the
+birds on the lawn, and the flashing gold of the distant sand.
+
+"No, you never saw like Harry," he said at last.  "You want to be old
+to understand," and he would say no more.
+
+He talked to her no more that morning, and she was vaguely uneasy.
+What was he thinking about Harry, and how did his opinion influence the
+situation?
+
+She fancied that she saw signs of rebellion.  For many years he had
+allowed her to do what she would, and although she had sometimes
+wondered whether he was quite as passive as she had fancied, she had
+had no fear of any disturbance.  Now there was something vaguely
+menacing in his very silences.  And, in some undefined way, the
+pleasure that he took in the cries of birds, the plunge and chatter of
+the sea as it rose and fell on the southern shore, the glint of the sun
+on the gold and green distances of rock and moor was alarming.  She
+herself did not understand those things; indeed, she scarcely saw them,
+and was inclined to despise any one who loved any unpractical beauty,
+anything that was not at least traditional.  And now this was a bond
+between her father and Harry.  They had both loved wild, uncivilised
+things, and it was this very trait in their character that had made
+division between them before.  But now what had been in those early
+years the cause of trouble was their common ground of sympathy.
+
+They shared some secret of which she knew nothing, and she was afraid
+lest Robin should learn it too.
+
+She went about her housekeeping duties that morning with an uneasy
+mind.  The discipline below stairs was excellent because she was
+feared.  It was not that she was hasty-tempered or unjust; indeed the
+cook, who had been there for many years, said that she had never seen
+Miss Clare angry, and her justice was a thing to marvel at.  She always
+gave people their due, and exactly their due; she never over-praised or
+blamed, and that was why people said that she was cold; it was also,
+incidentally, responsible for her excellent discipline.
+
+She was, as Sir Jeremy had said, a woman of amazing method.  But the
+attitude of her actual household helped her; they were all, by
+education and environment, Trojans.  Whatever they had been before they
+entered service at "The Flutes"--Radicals, Socialists, Dissenters, or
+Tones--at the moment of passing the threshold they were transformed
+into Trojans.  Other things fell from them like a mantle, and in their
+serious devotion to traditional Conservatism they were examples of the
+true spirit of Feudalism.  Beldam, the butler, had long ago graduated
+as Professor in the system.  Coming as page-boy in earlier years, he
+had acquired the by no means easy art of Trojan diplomacy.  It was now
+his duty to overhaul, as it were, every servant that passed the gates;
+an overhauling, moreover, done seriously and with much searching of the
+heart.  Were you a Trojan?  That is, do you consider that you are
+exceptionally fortunate in being chosen to perform menial but necessary
+duties in the Trojan household?  Will you spend the rest of your days,
+not only in performing your duties worthily, but also in preaching to a
+blind and misguided world the doctrine of Trojan perfection and
+superiority?  If the answer were honestly affirmative, you were
+accepted; otherwise, you were expelled with a fortnight's wages and
+eternal contempt.
+
+Even the scullerymaid was not spared, but had to pass an examination in
+rites and rituals so severe that one unfortunate, Annie Grace Marks,
+after Beldam had spoken to her severely for half-an-hour, burst out
+with an impetuous, "Thank Gawd, she was a Marks, which was as good as
+the High and Mighty any day of the week, and better, for there wasn't
+no pride in the Marks and never 'ad been."
+
+She received her dismissal that same evening.
+
+But the case of Annie Marks was an isolated one.  Rebellion was very
+occasional, and, for the most, the servants stayed at "The
+Flutes"--partly because the pay was good, and partly because the very
+reiteration of Trojan supremacy gave them a feeling of elevation very
+pleasant to their pride.  In accordance with all true feudal law, you
+lost your own sense of birth and ancestry and became in a moment a
+Trojan; for Smith, Jones, and Robinson this was very comforting.
+
+So Clare had very little trouble, and this morning she was able to
+finish her duties speedily, and devote her whole attention to the
+crisis that threatened the family.
+
+She decided to see Garrett, and made her way to his room.  He was
+writing, and seemed disturbed by her entry.  He had been working for
+some years on a book to be entitled, "Our Aristocracy: its Threatened
+Supremacy."  He was still engaged on the preliminary chapter, "Some
+aspects of historical aristocracy," and it had developed into a
+somewhat minute account of Trojan past history.  He had no expectations
+of ever concluding the work, but it gave him a pleasant sense of
+importance and seemed in some vague way to be of value to the Trojan
+family.
+
+He was always happy when at work, although he effected very little;
+but, after all, the great stylists always worked slowly.  His style
+was, it is true, somewhat commonplace; but his rather minute output
+allowed him to rank, in his own estimation, with Pater and Omar
+Khayyám, and disdain the voluminous facility of Thackeray and Dickens.
+He was, he felt, one of the "precious" writers, and so long as no one
+saw his work he was able both to comfort himself and to impress others
+with the illusion.
+
+It was said vaguely in Pendragon that "Garrett Trojan was a clever
+fellow--was writing a book--said to be brilliant, of great promise--no,
+he hadn't seen it, but----" etc.
+
+So Garrett looked at his sister a little resentfully.
+
+"I hope it's important, Clare," he said, "because--well, you know, the
+morning's one's time for work, and once one gets off the track it's
+difficult to get back; not that I've done much, you know, only half a
+page--but this kind of thing can't move quickly."
+
+"I'm sorry, Garrie," she answered, "but you've got to talk to me.
+There are things about which I want your advice."
+
+She did not really want it; she had decided on her line of conduct, and
+nothing that he could say would alter her decision--but it flattered
+him, and she needed his help.
+
+"Well, of course," he said, pushing his chair back and coming to the
+fire, "if it's anything I can do--  What is it, Clare?  Household or
+something in the town?"
+
+"Oh, nothing," she laughed at him.  "Don't be worried, Garrie; I know
+it's horrid to disturb you, and there's really nothing--only--well,
+after all, there is only us, isn't there?  for acting together I
+mean--and I want to know what line you're going on."
+
+"Oh! about Harry?"  He looked at her sharply for a moment.  "You know
+that I object to lines, Clare.  They are dangerous things."  He implied
+that he was above them.  "Of course there are times when it is
+necessary to--well, to be decisive; but at present it seems to me that
+we must wait for the situation to develop--it will, of course."
+
+"I knew that you would say that," she said impatiently.  "But it won't
+do; the situation _has_ developed.  You always preferred to look on--it
+is, as you say, less dangerous; but here I must have your help.  Harry
+has been back a week; he is, for you and me, unchanged.  The situation,
+as far as we go, is the same as it was twenty years ago.  He is not one
+of us, he never was, and, to do him justice, never pretended to be.
+We, or at any rate I, imagined that he would be different now, after
+all that time.  He is exactly the same."  She paused.
+
+"Well?" he said.  "All that for granted, it's true enough.  What's the
+trouble?"
+
+"Things aren't the same though, now.  There is father, and Robin.
+Father has taken to Harry strongly.  He told me so just now.  And for
+Robin----"
+
+"Scarcely captivated," said Garrett drily.  "Have you seen them
+together?  Hardly domestic----"
+
+Then he looked at her again and laughed.  "And that pleases you, Clare."
+
+"Of course," she answered him firmly.  "There is no good in hedging.
+He is no brother of ours, Garrett.  He is, what is more important
+still, no Trojan, and after all family counts for something.  We don't
+like him, Garrett.  Why be sentimental about it?  He will follow
+father--and it will be soon--_après, le déluge_.  For ourselves, it
+does not matter.  It is hard, of course, but we have had our time, and
+there are other things and places.  It is about Robin.  I cannot bear
+to think what it would mean if he were alone here with Harry, after all
+these years."
+
+"He would not stay."
+
+"You think that?" Clare said eagerly.  "It is so hard to know.  He is
+still only a boy.  Of course Harry shocks him now, shocks
+everything--his sense of decency, his culture, his pride--but that will
+wear off; he will get used to it--and then----"
+
+It had been inevitable that the discussion should come, and Garrett had
+been waiting.  He had no intention of going to find her, he would wait
+until she came to him, but he had been anxious to know her opinion.
+For himself the possibility of Harry's return had never presented
+itself.  After all those years he would surely remain where he was.  In
+yielding his son he had seemed to abandon all claim to any rights of
+inheritance, and Garrett had thought of him as one comfortably dead.
+He had contemplated his own ultimate succession with the pleasurable
+certainty that it was absolutely the right thing.  In his love for a
+rather superficial tradition he was a perfect Trojan, and might be
+relied on to continue existing conditions without any attempt at
+radical changes.  Clare, too, would be of great use.
+
+But in a moment what had been, in his mind, certainty was changed into
+impossibility; instead of a certain successor he had become some one
+whose very existence was imperilled--his existence, that is, on the
+only terms that were in the least comfortable.  Everything that made
+life worth living was threatened.  Not that his brother would turn him
+out; he granted Harry the very un-Trojan virtues of generosity and
+affection for humanity in general--a rather foolish, gregarious
+open-handedness opposed obviously to all decent economy.  But Harry
+would keep him--and the very thought stirred Garrett to a degree of
+anger that his sluggish nature seldom permitted him.  Kept! and by
+Harry!  Harry the outlaw!  Harry the rebel!  Harry the Greek!  Garrett
+scarcely loved his brother when he thought of it.
+
+But it was necessary that some line of action should be adopted, and he
+was glad that Clare had taken the first step.
+
+"You don't think," he said doubtfully, "that he could be induced to go
+back?"
+
+"What!" cried Clare, "after these years and the way he has waited!
+Why, remember that first evening!  He will never leave this again.  He
+has been dreaming about it too long!"
+
+"I don't know," said Garrett.  "He'll be at loggerheads with the town
+very soon.  He has been saying curious things to a good many people.
+He objects to all improvement and says so.  The place will soon be too
+hot for him."
+
+But Clare shook her head.  "No," she said.  "He will soon find out
+about things--and then, in a little, when he takes father's place, what
+people think odd and unpleasant now will be original and strong.
+Besides, he would never go, whatever might happen, because of Robin."
+
+"Ah, yes, there is Robin.  It will be curious to watch developments
+there.  Randal comes to-day, doesn't he?"
+
+"Yes, this afternoon.  A most delightful boy.  I'm afraid that he may
+find Harry tiresome."
+
+"We must wait," Garrett said finally; "in a week's time we shall see
+better.  But, Clare, don't be rash.  There is father--and, besides, it
+will scarcely help Robin."
+
+"Oh! no melodrama," she said, laughing and moving towards the door.
+"Only, we understand each other, Garrie.  Things won't do as they
+are--or, as they promise to be."
+
+Garrett returned, with a sigh of relief, to his papers.
+
+For Harry the week had been a series of bitter disappointments.  He
+woke gradually from his dreams and saw that everything was changed.  He
+was in a new world and he was out of place.  Those dreams had been
+coloured, fantastically, beautifully.  In the white pebbles, the golden
+sand, the curling grey smoke of the Cove, he had formed pictures that
+had lightened many dreary and lonely hours in Auckland.  He was to come
+back; away from that huge unwieldy life in which comfort had no place
+and rest was impossible, back to all the old things, the wonderful
+glorious things that meant home and tradition and, above all, love.  He
+was a sentimentalist, he knew that now.  It had not been so in those
+old days; the life had been too adventurous and exciting, and he had
+despised the quiet comforts of a stay-at-home existence.  But now he
+knew its value; he would come home and take his place as head of the
+family, as father, as citizen--he had learnt his lesson, and at last it
+was time for the reward.
+
+But now that he had come home he found that the lesson was not learnt,
+or, perhaps, that the learning had been wasted; he must begin all over
+again.  Garrett and Clare had not changed; they had made no advances
+and had shown him quite plainly, in the courteous Trojan fashion, that
+they considered his presence an intrusion, that they had no place in
+their ranks that he could fill.  He was, he saw it plainly, no more in
+line with them than he had been twenty years before.  Indeed, matters
+were worse.  There was no possibility of agreement--they were poles
+apart.
+
+With the town, too, he was an "outsider."  The men at the Club thought
+him a bore--a person of strange enthusiasms and alarming heresies.  By
+the ladies he was considered rough: as Mrs. le Terry had put it to Miss
+Ponsonby, he was a kind of too terrible bushranger without the romance!
+He was gauche, he knew, and he hated the tea-parties.  They talked
+about things of which he knew nothing; he was too sincere to cover his
+convictions with the fatuous chatter that passed, in Fallacy Street
+society, for brilliant wit.  That it was fatuous he was convinced, but
+his conviction made matters no easier for him.
+
+But his attitude to the town had been, it must be confessed, from the
+very first a challenge.  He had expected things that were not there; he
+had thought that his dreams were realities, and when he had demanded
+golden colours and had been shown stuff of sombre grey, there had been
+wild rebellion and impatient discontent with the world.  He had thought
+Pendragon amazing in its utter disregard of the things that were to him
+necessities, but he had forgotten that he himself despised so
+completely things that were to Pendragon essentials.  He had asked for
+beauty and they had given him an Esplanade; he had searched for romance
+and had discovered the new hotel; he dreamed of the sand and blue water
+of the Cove and had awaked to find the place despised and contemned--a
+site for future boarding-houses.
+
+The town had thought him at first entertaining; they had made
+allowances for a certain rather picturesque absurdity consequent on
+backwoods and the friendship of Maories--men had laughed at the Club
+and detailed Harry Trojan's latest with added circumstances and
+incident, and for a while this was amusing.  But his vehemence knew no
+pause, and he stated his disgust at the practical spirit of the new
+Pendragon with what seemed to the choice spirits at the Club
+effrontery.  They smiled and then they sneered, and at last they left
+him alone.
+
+So Harry found himself, at the end of the first week after his return,
+alone in Pendragon.
+
+He had not, perhaps, cared for their rejection.  He had come, like
+Gottwalt in _Flegejahre_, "loving every dog, and wishing that every dog
+should love him"--but he had seen, at once, that his way must be apart
+from theirs, and in that knowledge he had tried to find the comfort of
+a minority certain of its own strength and disdainful of common
+opinion.  He had marvelled at their narrow vision and was unaware that
+his own point of view was equally narrow.
+
+And, after all, there was Robin.  Robin and he would defy Pendragon and
+laugh at its stupid little theories and short-sighted plans.  And then,
+slowly, irresistibly, he had seen that he was alone--that Robin was on
+the side of Pendragon.  He refused to admit it even now, and told
+himself again and again that the boy was naturally a little awkward at
+first--careless perhaps--certainly constrained.  But gradually a wall
+had been built up between them; they were greater strangers now than
+they had been on that first evening of the return.  Ah! how he had
+tried!  He had thought that, perhaps, the boy hated sentiment and he
+had held himself back, watching eagerly for any sign of affection,
+ready humbly to take part in anything, to help in any difficulty, to
+laugh, to sympathise, to take his place as he had been waiting to do
+for so many years.
+
+But Robin had made no advances, showed no sign.  He had almost repulsed
+him--had at least been absolutely indifferent.  They had had a walk
+together, and Harry had tried his best--but the attempt had been
+obvious, and at last there had come a terrible silence; they had walked
+back through the streets of Pendragon without a word.
+
+Everything that Harry had said had been unfortunate.  He had praised
+the Cove enthusiastically, and Robin had been contemptuous.  He had
+never heard of Pater and had confounded Ibsen with Jerome K. Jerome.
+He had praised cricket and met with no reply.  Twice he had seen
+Robin's mouth curl contemptuously, and it had cut him to the heart.
+
+Poor Harry! he was very lonely.  During the last two days he had been
+down in the Cove; he had found his way into the little inn and got in
+touch with some of the fishermen.  But they scarcely solaced his
+loneliness.  He had met Mary Bethel on the downs, and for a moment they
+had talked.  There was no stiffness there; she had looked at him simply
+as a friend, with no hostility, and he had been grateful.
+
+At last he had begun to look forward to the coming of Robin's friend,
+Randal.  He was, evidently, a person to whom Robin looked up with great
+admiration.  Perhaps he would form in some way a link, would understand
+the difficulties of both, and would help them.  Harry waited, eagerly,
+and formed a picture of Randal in his mind that gave him much
+encouragement.
+
+He was in his room now; it was half-past four, and the carriage had
+just passed up the drive.  He looked anxiously at his ties and
+hesitated between light green, brown, and black.  He had learnt the
+importance of these things in his son's eyes.  He was going next week
+to London to buy clothes; meanwhile he must not offend their sense of
+decency, and he hesitated in front of his tie-box like a girl before
+her first dance.  The green was terribly light.  It was a good tie, but
+perhaps not quite the thing.  Nothing seemed to go properly with his
+blue suit--the brown was dull and uninteresting--it lacked character;
+any one might have worn it, and he flung it back almost scornfully into
+the box.  The black was really best, but how dismal!  He seemed to see
+all his miserable loneliness and disappointment in its dark, sombre
+colour.  No, that would never do!  He must be bright, amusing,
+cheerful--anything but dull and dismal.  So he put on the green again,
+and went down to the drawing-room.  Randal was a young man of
+twenty-four--dark, tall, and slight, with a rather weary look in the
+eyes, as of one who had discovered the hollow mockery of the world and
+wondered at the pleasures of simple people.  He was perfectly dressed,
+and had arrived, after much thought and a University education, at that
+excellent result when everything is right, as it were, by accident--as
+though no thought had been taken at all.  As soon as a man appears to
+have laboured for effect, then he is badly dressed.  Randal was
+good-looking.  He had very dark eyes and thin, rather curling lips, and
+hair brushed straight back from his forehead.
+
+The room was in twilight.  It was Clare's morning-room, chosen because
+it was cosy and favoured intimacy.  She was fond of Randal and liked to
+mother him; she also respected his opinions.  The windows looked over
+the sea and the blinds were not drawn.  The twilight, like a floating
+veil, hovered over sea and land; the last faint colours of the sunset,
+gold and rose and grey, trembled over the town.
+
+Harry was introduced.  Randal smiled, but his hand was limp; Harry felt
+a little ashamed of his own hearty grasp and wished that he had been
+less effusive.  Randal's suit was dark blue and he wore a black tie;
+Harry became suddenly conscious of his daring green and, taking his
+tea, went and sat in the window and watched the town.  The first white
+colours of the young moon, slipping from the rosy-grey cloud, touched
+faintly the towers of the ruined church on the moor; he fancied that he
+could just see the four stones shining darkly grey against the horizon,
+but it was difficult to tell in that mysterious half-light.  Robin was
+sitting under the lamp by the door.  The light caught his hair, but his
+face was in shadow.  Harry watched him eagerly, hungrily.  Oh! how he
+loved him, his son!
+
+Randal was discussing some people with whom he had been staying--a
+little languidly and without any very active interest.  "Rather a nice
+girl, though," he said.  "Only such a dreadful mother.  Young
+Page-Rellison would have had a shot, I do believe, if it hadn't been
+for the mother--wore a wig and talked Cockney, and fairly grabbed the
+shekels in bridge."
+
+"And what about the book?" Clare asked.
+
+"Oh! going on," said Randal.  "I showed Cressel a chapter the other
+day--you know the New Argus man; and he was very nice about it.  Of
+course, some of the older men won't like it, you know.  It fairly goes
+for their methods, and I flatter myself hits them pretty hard once or
+twice.  You know, Miss Trojan, it's the young school you've got to look
+to nowadays; it's no use going back to those mid-Victorians--all very
+well for the schoolroom--cause and effect and all that kind of
+thing--but we must look ahead--be modern and you will be progressive,
+Miss Trojan."
+
+"That's just what I'm always saying, Mr. Randal," said Clare, smiling.
+"We're fighting a regular battle over it down here, but I think we will
+win the day."
+
+Randal turned to Harry.  "And you, sir," he said, "are with us, too?"
+
+Harry laughed.  He knew that Robin was looking at him.  "I have been
+away," he said, "and perhaps I have been a little surprised at the
+strides that things have made.  Twenty years is a long time, and I was
+romantic and perhaps foolish enough to expect that Pendragon would be
+very much the same when I came back.  It has changed greatly, and I am
+a little disappointed."
+
+Clare looked up.  "My brother has lost touch a little, Mr. Randal," she
+said, "and I don't think quite sees what is good for the place--indeed,
+necessary.  At any rate, he scarcely thinks with us."
+
+"With _us_."  There was emphasis on the word.  That meant Robin too.
+Randal glanced at him for a moment and then he turned to Robin--father
+and son!  A swift drawing of contrasts, perhaps with an inevitable
+conclusion in favour of his own kind.  It was suddenly as though the
+elder man was shut out of the conversation; they had, in a moment,
+forgotten his very presence.  He sat in the dusk by the window, his
+head in his hands, and terrible loneliness at his heart; it hurt as he
+had never known before that anything could hurt.  He had never known
+that he was sensitive; in Auckland it had not been so.  He had never
+felt things then, and had a little despised people that had minded.
+But there had been ever, in the back of his mind, the thought of those
+days that were coming when, with his son at his side, he could face all
+things.  Well, now he had his son--there, with him in the room.  The
+irony of it made him clench his hands, there in the dark, whilst they
+talked in the lighted room behind him.
+
+"Oh!  King's is going to pot," Randal was saying.  "I was down in the
+Mays and they were actually running with the boats--they seemed quite
+keen on going up.  The decent men seem to have all gone."
+
+Robin was paying very little attention.  He was looking worried, and
+Clare watched him a little anxiously.  "I hope you will be able to stay
+with us some days, Mr. Randal," she said.  "There are several new
+people in Pendragon whom I should like you to meet."
+
+Randal was charmed.  He would love to stop, but he must get back to
+London almost immediately.  He was going over to Germany next week and
+there were many arrangements to be made.
+
+"Germany!"  It was Robin who spoke, but the voice was not his usual
+one.  It was alive, vibrating, startling.  "Germany!  By Jove!
+Randal--are you really going?"
+
+"Why, of course," a little wearily; "I have been before, you know.
+Rather a bore, but the Rainers--you remember them, Miss Trojan--are
+going over to the Beethoven Festival at Bonn and are keen on my going
+with them.  I wasn't especially anxious, but one must do these things,
+you know."
+
+"Robin was there a year ago--Germany, I mean--and loved it.  Didn't
+you, Robin?"
+
+"Germany?  It was Paradise, Heaven--what you will.  Rügen, the Harz,
+Heidelberg, Worms----"  He stopped and his voice broke.  "I'm a little
+absurd about it still," he said, as though in apology for such
+unnecessary enthusiasm.
+
+"Oh! you're young, Robin," said Randal, laughing.  "When you've seen as
+much as I have you'll be blasé.  Not that one ought to be, but
+Germany--well, it hardly lasts, I think.  Rügen--why, it rained and
+there were mists round the Studenkammer, and how those people eat at
+the Jagdschloss!  Heidelberg! picture postcards and shocking
+hotels--Oh!  No, Robin, you'll see all that later.  I wish you were
+going instead of me, though."
+
+Harry had looked up at the sound of Robin's voice.  It had been a new
+note.  There had been an eagerness, an enthusiasm, that meant life and
+something genuine.
+
+Hope that had been slowly dying revived again.  If Robin really cared
+for Germany like that, then they had something in common.  With that
+spark a fire might be kindled.  A red-gold haze as of fire burnt in the
+night sky, over the town.  Stars danced overhead, a little wind,
+beating fitfully at the window, seemed to carry the light of the moon
+in its tempestuous track, blowing it lightly in silver mists and clouds
+over the moor.  The Wise Men were there, strong and dark and sombre,
+watching over the lighted town and listening patiently to the ripple
+and murmur and life of the sea at their feet.  In the little inn at the
+Cove men were sitting over the roaring fire, telling tales--strange,
+weird stories of a life that these others did not know.  Harry had
+heard them when he was a boy--those stories--and he had felt the spell
+and the magic.  There had been life in them and romance.
+
+Perhaps they were there again to-night, just as they had been twenty
+years before.  The stars called to him, the lighted town, the dusky,
+softly breathing sea, the loneliness of the moor.  He must get out and
+away.  He must have sympathy and warmth and friendship; he had come
+back to his own people with open arms and they had no place for him.
+His own son had repulsed him.  But Cornwall, the country of his dreams,
+the mother of his faith, the guardian of his honour, was there--the
+same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.  He would search for her and
+would find her--even though it were on the red-brick floor of the
+tavern in the Cove.
+
+He turned round and found that the room was empty.  They had forgotten
+him and left him--without a word.  The light of the lamp caught the
+silver of the tea-things, and flashed and sparkled like a flame.
+
+Harry Trojan softly opened the door, passed into the dim twilight of
+the hall, picked up his hat, and stepped into the garden.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+As he felt the crunch of the gravel beneath his feet he was possessed
+with the spirit of adventure.  The dark house behind him had been
+holding him captive.  It had held him against his will, imprisoning
+him, tormenting him, and the tortures that he had endured were many and
+severe.  He had not known that he could have felt it so much--that
+absolute rejection of him by everything in which he had trusted; but he
+would mind these things no longer--he would even try not to mind Robin!
+That would be hard, and as he thought of it even now for a moment tears
+had filled his eyes.  That, however, was cowardice.  He must fling away
+the hopes of twenty years and start afresh, with the knowledge won of
+his experience and the strength that he had snatched from his wounds.
+
+And after all a man was a fool to mope and whine when that wind from
+the sea was beating in his ears and the sea scents of clover and
+poppies and salt stinging foam were brought to his nostrils, and the
+trees rustled like the beating of birds' wings in the velvety
+star-lighted sky.
+
+A garden was wonderful at night--a place of strange silences and yet
+stranger sound: trees darkly guarding mysterious paths that ran into
+caverns of darkness; the scents of flowers rising from damp earth heavy
+with dew; flowers that were weary with the dust and noise of the day
+and slept gently, gratefully, with their heads drooping to the soil,
+their petals closed by the tender hands of the spirits of the garden.
+The night-sounds were strangely musical.  Cries that were discordant in
+the day mingled now with the running of distant water, the last notes
+of some bird before it slept, the measured harmony of a far-away bell,
+the gentle rustle of some arrival in the thickets; the voice that could
+not be heard in the noisy chatter of the day rose softly now in a
+little song of the night and the dark trees and the silver firelight of
+the stars.
+
+And it was all very romantic, of course.  Harry Trojan had flung his
+cares behind him and stepped over the soft turf of the lawns, a free
+adventurer.  It was not really very late, and there was an hour before
+dinner; but he was not sure that he minded about that--they would be
+glad to dine without him.  There crossed his mind the memory of a night
+in New Zealand.  He had been walking down to the harbour in Auckland,
+and the moon had shone in the crooked water-side streets, its white,
+cold light crossed with dark black shadows of roofs and gables.
+Suddenly a woman's voice called for help across the silence, and he had
+turned and listened.  It had called again, and, thinking that he might
+help some one in distress, he had burst a dark, silent door, stumbled
+up crooked wooden stairs, and entered an empty room.  As he passed the
+door there was a sound of skirts, and a door at the other end of the
+room had closed.  There was no one there, only a candle guttering on
+the table, the remains of a meal, a woman's hat on the back of a chair;
+he had waited for some time in silence, he had called and asked if
+there was any one there, he had tried the farther door and found it
+shut--and so, cursing himself for a fool, he had passed down into the
+street again and the episode had ended.  There was really nothing in
+it--nothing at all; but it was the atmosphere, the atmosphere of
+romantic adventure shot suddenly across a rather drab and colourless
+existence, and he had liked to dwell on the possibilities of the affair
+and ask himself about it.  Who was the woman, and why had she cried
+out?  Why was there no one in the room?  And why had no one answered
+him?
+
+He did not know and really he did not care, and, indeed, it was better
+that the affair should be left in vague and incomplete outline.  It was
+probably commonplace enough, had one only known, and sordid too,
+perhaps.  But to-night was just such a night as that other.  He would
+go to the Cove and find his romance where he had left it twenty years
+ago.  It was the hour in Pendragon when shops are closing and young men
+and maidens walk out.  There were a great many people in the street;
+girls with white, tired faces, young men with bright ties and a
+self-assertive air--a type of person new to Pendragon since Harry's
+day.  The young man who served you respectfully, almost timidly, behind
+the counter was now self-assertive, taking the middle of the street
+with a flourish of his cane.  Fragments of conversation came to Harry's
+ears--
+
+"Mother being out I thought as 'ow I might venture--not but what she'd
+kick up a rare old fuss----"
+
+"So I told 'er it weren't no business of 'ers and the sooner she caught
+on to the idea the better for all parties, seein' as 'ow----"
+
+"Well, I never did! and you told 'im that, did yer?  I always said
+you'd some pluck if you really wanted to----"
+
+A gramophone from an open window up the street shrieked the alluring
+refrain of "She's a different girl again," and a man who had
+established himself at the corner under the protecting glare of two
+hissing gas-jets urged on the company present an immediate acceptance
+of his stupendous offer.  "Gold watches for 'alf a crown--positively
+for one evening in order to clear--all above board.  Solid gold and
+cheap at a sovereign."
+
+The plunge into the cool depths of the winding little path that led
+down to the Cove was delicious.  Oh! the contrast of it!  The noise and
+ugly self-assertion of the town, flinging its gas-jets against the moon
+and covering the roll of the sea with the shriek of the gramophone.  He
+crossed through the turnstile at the bend of the road and passed up the
+hill that led to the Cove.  At a bend the view of the sea came to him,
+the white moonlight lying, a path of dancing shining silver, on the
+grey sweep of the sea.  A wind was blowing, turning the grey into
+sudden points of white--like ghostly hands rising for a moment suddenly
+from immensity and then sinking silently again, their prayers
+unanswered.
+
+As he passed up the hill he was aware of something pattering beside
+him; at first it was a little uncanny in that dim, uncertain light, and
+he stopped and bent down to the road.  It was a dog, a fox-terrier of a
+kind, dirty, and even in that light most obviously a mongrel.  But it
+jumped up at him and put its paws on his knee.
+
+"Well, company's company," he said with a laugh.  "I don't know where
+you've sprung from, but we'll travel together for a bit."  The dog ran
+up the hill, and for a moment stood out against the moon--a shaggy,
+disreputable dog with a humorous stump of a tail.  He stood there with
+one ear flapping back and the other cocked up--a most ridiculous figure.
+
+Harry laughed again and the dog barked; they walked down the hill
+together.
+
+The Cove was dark, but from behind shuttered windows lamps twinkled
+mysteriously, and the red glow from the inn flung a circle of light
+down the little cobbled street.  The beat of the sea came solemnly like
+the tramp of invisible armies from the distance.  There was no other
+sound save the tremble of the wind in the trees.
+
+Harry pushed open the door of the inn and entered, followed by the dog.
+The place was the same; nothing had been changed.  There was the old
+wooden gallery where the fiddle had played such merry tunes.  The rough
+uneven floor had the same holes, the same hills and dales.  The great
+settle by the fire was marked, as in former years, with mysterious
+crosses and initials cut by jack-knives in olden days.  The two lamps
+shone in their accustomed places--one over the fire, another by the
+window.  The door leading to the bar was half open, and in the distance
+voices could be heard, but the room itself seemed to be empty.
+
+A great fire leapt in the fireplace and the gold light of it danced on
+the red-brick floor.  The peculiar scent as of tobacco and ale and the
+salt of the sea, and, faintly, the breath of mignonette and geraniums,
+struck out the long intervals since Harry had been there before.
+Twenty years ago he had breathed the same air; and now he was back
+there again and nothing was changed.  The dog had run to the fire and
+sat in front of it now, wagging his stump of a tail, his ear cocked.
+Harry laughed and sat down in the settle; the burden of the last week
+was flung off and he was a free man.
+
+A long, lean man with a straggling beard stood in the doorway and
+watched him; then he came forward.  "Mr. Harry," he said, and held out
+his hand.
+
+Harry started up.  "I'm sorry," he said, stammering, "I don't remember."
+
+"We were wonderin'," said the long, thin man slowly, "when you was
+comin' down.  Not that you'd remember faces--that's not to be
+expected--especially in foreign parts which is confusing and difficult
+for a man--but I'm Bill Tregarvis what have had you out fishin' many's
+the time--not that you'd remember faces," he said again, looking a
+little timidly at him.
+
+But he did!  Harry remembered him perfectly!  Bill Tregarvis!  Why, of
+course--many was the time they had seen life together--he had had a
+wife and two boys.
+
+Harry wrung his hand and laughed.
+
+"Remember, Bill!  Why, of course!  It was only for a moment.  I had got
+the face all right but not the name.  Yes, I have, as a matter of fact,
+come before, but there were things that have made it difficult at
+first, and of course there was a lot to do up there.  But it's good to
+be down here!  The other place is changed; I had been a bit
+disappointed, but here it is just the same--the same old lights and
+smells and sea, and the same old friends----"
+
+"Yer think that?" Tregarvis looked at him.  "Because we'd been fearing
+that all your travelling and sight-seeing might have harmed you--that
+you'd be thinking a bit like the folk up-along with their cars and gas
+and filth.  Aye, it's a changed world up there, Mr. Harry; but
+down-along there's no difference.  It's the sea keeps us steady."
+
+And then they talked about the old adventurous days when Harry had been
+eighteen and the world had been a very wonderful place: the herring
+fishing, the bathing, the adventures on the moor, the tales at night by
+candlelight, the fun of it all.  The room began to fill, and one after
+another men came forward and claimed friendship on the score of old
+days and perils shared.  They received him quite simply--he was "Mr.
+Harry," but still one of themselves, taking his place with them,
+telling tales and hearing them in return.
+
+There were nine or ten of them, and a wild company they made, crowding
+round the fire, with the flames leaping and flinging gigantic shadows
+on the walls.  The landlord, a short, ruddy-faced man with white hair
+and a merry twinkle of the eye, was one of the best men that Harry had
+ever known.
+
+He was a man whose modesty was only equalled by his charity; a man of
+great humour, wide knowledge of the most varied subjects, and above all
+a passionate faith in the country of his birth, Cornwall.  He was, like
+most Cornishmen, superstitious, but his belief in Nature as a wise and
+beneficent mother, stern but never unjust, controlled his will and
+justified his actions.  In those early days Harry had worshipped him
+with that whole-hearted adoration bestowed at times by young
+hero-worshippers on those that have travelled a little way along the
+path and have learnt their lesson wisely.  Tony Newsome's influence had
+done more for Harry in those early years than he had realised, but he
+knew now what he owed to him as he sat by his side and recalled those
+other days.  They had written once or twice, but Tony was no
+correspondent and hated to have a pen between his fingers.
+
+"Drive a horse, pull a boat, shoot a gun, mind a net--but God help me
+if I write," he had said.  Not that he objected to books; he had read a
+good deal and cared for it--but "God's air in the day and a merry fire
+at night leaves little room for pen and ink" was his justification.
+
+He treated Harry now as his boy of twenty years ago, and laughed at him
+and scolded him as of old.  He did not question him very closely on the
+incidents of those twenty years, and indeed, with them all, Harry
+noticed that there was very little curiosity as to those other
+countries.  They welcomed him quietly, simply.  They were glad that he
+was there again, sitting with them, taking his place naturally and
+easily--and again the twenty years seemed as nothing.
+
+He sat with the dog at his feet.  Newsome's hand was on his knee, and
+every once and again he gave a smothered chuckle.  "I knew you'd come
+back, Mr. Harry," he said.  "I just waited.  Once the sea has got hold
+of you it doesn't loosen its grip so quick.  I knew you'd come back."
+
+They told wild stories as they had been telling them for many years at
+the same hour in the same place--strange things seen at sea, the lights
+and mists of the moor, survivals of smuggling days and fights on the
+beach under the moon; and it always was the sea.  They might leave it
+for a moment perhaps, but they came back to it--the terror of it, the
+joy of it, the cruelty of it; the mistress that held them chained, that
+called their children and would not be denied, the god that they served.
+
+They spoke of her softly with lowered voices and a strange reverence.
+They had learnt her moods and her dangers; they knew that she could
+caress them, and then, of a sudden, strike them down--but they loved
+her.
+
+And she had claimed Harry again.  Everything for which he had been
+longing during that past week had come to him at last; their
+friendship, their faith in an old god, and above all that sense of a
+great adventure, for the spirit of which he had so diligently been
+searching.  "Up-along" life was an affair of measured rules and things
+foreseen.  "Down-along" it was a game of unending surprises and a
+gossamer web shot with the golden light of romance.  High-falutin
+perhaps, but to Harry, as he sat before the fire with the strange dog
+and those ten wild men, words and pictures came too speedily to admit
+of a sense of the absurd.
+
+An old man, with a long white beard and a shaking hand, knew strange
+tales of the moor.  When the mists creep up and blot out the land, then
+the four grey stones take life and are the giants of old, and strange
+sacrifices are grimly performed.  Talse Carlyon had seen things late on
+a moonlit night with the mists swimming white and silvery-grey over the
+moor.  He had lost his way and had met a man of mighty size who had led
+him by the hand.  There had been spirits about, and at the foot of the
+grey stone a pool of blood--he had never been the same man since.
+
+"There are spirits and spirits," said the old man solemnly, "and there
+'m some good and some bad, for the proper edification of us mortals,
+and, for my part, it's not for the like of us to meddle."
+
+He stroked his beard--a very gloomy old man with a blind eye.  Harry
+remembered that he had had a wife twenty years before, so he inquired
+about her.
+
+"Dead," said the old man fiercely, "dead--and, thank God, she went out
+like a candle."
+
+He muttered this so fiercely that Harry said no more, and the white
+beard shone in the light of the fire, and his blind eye opened and shut
+like a box, and his wrinkled hand shook on his knee.  The fishing had
+been bad of late, and here again they spoke as if some personal power
+had been at work.  There were few there who had not lost some one
+during the years that they had served her, and the memory of what this
+had been and the foreshadowing of the dangerous future hung over them
+in the room.  Songs were sung, jokes were made, but they were the songs
+and laughter of men on guard, with the enemy to be encountered,
+perhaps, in the morning.
+
+Harry sat in his corner of the great seat, watching the leaping of the
+flames, his hand on Newsome's shoulder, listening to the murmuring
+voices at his side.  He scarcely knew whether he were awake or
+sleeping; their laughter came to him dimly, and it seemed that he was
+alone there with only Newsome by his side and the dog sleeping at his
+feet.  The tobacco smoke hung in grey-blue wreaths above his head and
+the gold light of the two lamps shone mistily, without shape or form.
+Perhaps it was really a dream.  The old man with the white beard and
+the blind eye was sleeping, his head on his breast.  A man with a
+vacant expression was telling a tale, heavily, slowly, gazing at the
+fire.  The others were not listening--or at any rate not obviously so.
+They, too, gazed at the fire--it had, as it were, become personal and
+mesmerised the room.  Perhaps it was a dream.  He would wake and find
+himself at "The Flutes."  There would be Clare and Garrett and--Robin!
+He would put all that away now; he would forget it for a moment, at
+least.  He had failed them; they had not wanted him and had told him
+so,--but here they had known him and loved him; they had welcomed him
+back as though there had been no intervening space of years.  They at
+least had known what life was.  They had not played with it, like those
+others.  They had not surrounded themselves with barricades of
+artificiality, and glanced through distorting mirrors at their own
+exaggerated reflection; they had seen life simply, fearlessly,
+accepting their peril like men and enjoying their fate with the
+greatness of soul that simplicity had given them.  They were not like
+those others; those on the hill had invaded the sea with noisy clamour,
+had greeted her familiarly and offered her bathing-machines and
+boarding-houses; these others had reverenced her and learnt to know
+her, alone on the downs in the first grey of the dawn, or secretly,
+when the breakers had rolled in over the sand, carrying with them the
+red and gold of some gorgeous sunset.
+
+He contrasted them in his mind--the Trojans and the Greeks.  He turned
+round a little in his seat and listened to the story: "It were a man--a
+strange man with horns and hoofs, so he said--and a merry, deceiving
+eye; but he couldn't see him clear because of the mist that hung there,
+with the moon pushing through like a candle, he said.  The man was
+laughing to himself and playing with leaves that danced at his feet
+under the wind.  It can't have been far from the town, because Joe
+heard St. Elmo's bell ringin' and he could hear the sea quite plain.
+He ..."
+
+The voice seemed to trail off again into the distance; Harry's thoughts
+were with his future.  What was he to do?  It seemed to him that his
+crisis had come and was now facing him.  Should he stay or should he
+flee?  Why should he not escape--away into the country, where he could
+live his life without fear, where there would be no contempt, no
+hampering family traditions?  Should he stay and wait while Robin
+learnt to hate him?  At the thought his face grew white and he clenched
+his hands.  Robin ... Robin ... Robin ... it always came back to
+that--and there seemed no answer.  That dream of love between father
+and son, the dream that he had cherished for twenty years, was
+shattered, and the bubble had burst....
+
+"So Joe said he didn't know but he thought it was to the left and down
+through the Cove--to the old church he meant; and the man laughed and
+danced with the leaves through the mist; and once Joe thought he was
+gone, and there he was back again, laughin'."
+
+No, he would face it.  He would take his place as he had intended--he
+would show them of what stuff he was made--and Robin would see, at
+last.  The boy was young, it would of course take time----
+
+The door of the inn opened and some one came in.  The lamps flared in
+the wind, and there was a cry from the fireplace.  "Mr. Bethel!  Well,
+I'm right glad!"
+
+Harry started.  Bethel--that had been the name of his friend--the girl
+who had come to tea.  The new-comer was a large man, over six feet in
+height, and correspondingly broad.  His head was bare, and his hair was
+a little long and curly.  His eyes were blue and twinkled, and his face
+was pleasantly humorous and, in the mouth and chin, strong and
+determined.  He wore a grey flannel suit with a flannel collar, and he
+was smoking a pipe of great size.  Newsome, starting to his feet, went
+forward to meet him.  Bethel came to the fire and talked to them all;
+there was obviously a free companionship between them that told of long
+acquaintance.  He was introduced to Harry.
+
+"I've heard of you, Mr. Trojan," he said, "and have been expecting to
+meet you.  I think that we have interests in common--at least an
+affection for Cornwall."
+
+Harry liked him.  He looked at him frankly between the eyes--there was
+no hesitation or disguise; there had been no barrier or division; and
+Harry was grateful.
+
+Bethel sat down by the fire, and a discussion followed about matters of
+which Harry knew nothing.  There was talk of the fishing prospects,
+which were bad; a gloom fell upon them all, and they cursed the new
+Pendragon--the race had grown too fast for them and competition was too
+keen.  But Harry noticed that they did not yet seem to have heard of
+the proposed destruction of the Cove.  Then he got up to go.  They
+asked him to come again, and he promised that he would.  Bethel rose
+too.
+
+"If you don't object, Mr. Trojan," he said, "I'll make one with you.  I
+had only looked in for a moment and had never intended to stay.  I was
+on my way back to the town."
+
+They went out into the street together, and Harry shivered for a moment
+as the wind from the sea met them.
+
+"Ah, that's good," Bethel said; "your fires are well enough, but that
+wind is worth a bag of gold."
+
+They walked for a little in silence, and then Harry said: "Those are a
+fine lot of men.  They know what life really is."
+
+Bethel laughed.  "I know what you feel about them.  You are glad that
+there's no change.  Twenty years has made little difference there.  It
+is twenty years, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes," said Harry.  "One thinks that it is nothing until one comes
+back, and then one thinks that it's more than it really is."
+
+"Yes, you're disappointed," Bethel said.  "I know.  Pendragon has
+become popular, and to your mind that has destroyed its beauty--or, at
+any rate, some of it."
+
+"Well, I hate it," Harry said fiercely, "all this noise and show.  Why
+couldn't they have left Pendragon alone?  I don't hate it for big
+places that are, as it were, in the line of march.  I suppose that they
+must move with the day.  That is inevitable.  But Pendragon!  Why--when
+I was a boy, it was simply a little town by the sea.  No one thought
+about it or worried about it: it was a place wonderfully quiet and
+simple.  It was too quiet for me then; I should worship it now.  But I
+have come back and it has no room for me."
+
+"I haven't known it as long as you," Bethel answered, "but I confess
+that the very charm of it lies in its contrast.  It is invasion, if you
+like, but for that very reason exciting--two forces at work and a
+battle in progress."
+
+"With no doubt as to the ultimate victory," said Harry gloomily.  "Yes,
+I see what you mean by the contrast.  But I cannot stand there and see
+them dispassionately--you see I am bound up with so much of it.  Those
+men to-night were my friends when I was a boy.  Newsome is the best man
+that I have ever known, and there is the place; I love every stone of
+it, and they would pull it down."
+
+They had left the Cove and were pressing up a steep path to the moor.
+The moon was struggling through a bank of clouds; the wind was
+whistling over their heads.
+
+Bethel suddenly stopped and turned towards Harry.  "Mr. Trojan," he
+said, "I'm going to be impulsive and perhaps imprudent.  There's
+nothing an Englishman fears so much as impulse, and he is terribly
+ashamed of imprudence.  But, after all, there is no time to waste, and
+if you think me impertinent you have only to say so, and the matter
+ends."
+
+Harry laughed.  "I am delighted," he began, but the other stopped him.
+
+"No, wait a moment.  You don't know.  I'm afraid you'll think that I'm
+absurd--most people will tell you that I am worse.  I want you to try
+to be a friend of mine, at any rate to give me a chance.  I scarcely
+know you--you don't know me at all--but; one goes on first impressions,
+and I believe that you would understand a little better than most of
+these people here--for one thing you have gone farther and seen
+more----"
+
+There was a little pause.  Harry was surprised.  Here was what he had
+been wanting--friendship; a week ago he would have seized it with both
+hands; now he was a little distrustful; a week ago it would have been
+natural, delightful; now it was unusual, even a little absurd.
+
+"I should be very glad," he said gravely.  "I--scarcely----"
+
+"Oh," Bethel broke in, "we shall come together naturally--there's no
+fear of that.  I could see at once that you know the mysteries of this
+place just as I do.  Those others here are blind.  I've been waiting
+for some one who would understand.  But I don't want you to listen to
+those other people about me; they will tell you a good deal--and most
+of it's true.  I don't blame 'em, but I'm curiously anxious for you not
+to think with them.  It's ridiculous, I know, when I had never seen you
+before.  If you only knew how long I'd been waiting--to talk to some
+one--about--all this."
+
+He waved his hand and they stopped.  They were standing on the moor.
+Above their head mighty grey clouds were driving like fleets before the
+wind, and the moon, a cold, lifeless thing, a moon of chiselled marble,
+appeared, and then, as though frightened at the wild flight of the
+clouds, vanished.  The sea, pearl grey, lay like mist on the horizon,
+and its voice was gentle and tired, as though it were slowly dying into
+sleep.  They were near the Four Stones--gaunt, grey, and old.  The dog
+had followed Harry from the inn and now ran, a white shadow, in front
+of him.
+
+"Let me tell you," Bethel said, "about myself.  You know I was born in
+London--the son of a doctor with a very considerable practice.  I
+received an excellent education, Rugby and Cambridge, and was trained
+for the law.  I was, I believe, a rather ordinary person with a rather
+more than ordinary power of concentration, and I got on.  I built up a
+business and was extremely and very conventionally happy.  I married
+and we had a little girl.  And then, one summer, we came down to
+Cornwall for our holiday.  It was St. Ives.  I remember that first
+morning as though it were yesterday.  It was grey with the sea flinging
+great breakers.  There was a smell of clover and cornflowers in the
+air, and great sheets of flaming poppies in the cornfields.  But there
+was more than that.  It was Cornwall, something magical, and that
+strange sense of old history and customs that you get nowhere else in
+quite the same way.  Ah! but why analyse it?--you know as well as I do
+what I mean.  A new man was born in me that day.  I had been sociable
+and fond of little quite ordinary pleasures that came my way, now I
+wanted to be alone.  Their conversation worried me; it seemed to be
+pointless and concerned with things that did not matter at all.  I had
+done things like other men--now it was all to no purpose.  I used to
+lie for hours on the cliffs watching the sea.  I was often out all day,
+and I met all sorts of people, tramps, wasters, vagabonds, and they
+seemed the only people worth talking to.  I met some strange fellows
+but excellent company--and they knew, all of them, the things that I
+knew; they had been out all night and seen the moon and the stars
+change and the first light of the dawn, and the little breeze that
+comes in those early hours from the sea, bringing the winds of other
+countries with it.  And they were merry, they had a philosophy--they
+knew Cornwall and believed in her.
+
+"Well--the holiday came to an end, and I had to go back!  London.  My
+God!  After that I struggled--I went to my work every day with the
+sound of that sea in my ears and the vision of those moors always there
+with me.  And the freedom!  If you have tasted that once, if you have
+ever got really close so that you can hear strange voices and see
+beauties of which you had never dreamt, well, you will never get back
+to your old routine again.  I don't care how strong you are--you can't
+do it, man.  Once she's got hold of you, nothing counts.  That was
+eighteen years ago.  I kept my work for a year, but it was killing me.
+I got ill--I nearly died; once I ran away at night and tried to get to
+the sea.  But I came back--there were my wife and girl.  We had a
+little money, and I gave it all up and we came to live down here.  I
+have done nothing since; rather shameful, isn't it, for a strong man?
+They have thought that here; they think that I am a waster--by their
+lights I am.  But the things I have learnt!  I didn't know what living
+was until I came here!  I knew nothing, I did nothing, I was a dead
+man.  What do I care for their thoughts of me!  They are in the dark!"
+
+He had spoken eagerly, almost breathlessly.  He was defending his
+position, and Harry knew that he had been waiting for years to say
+these things to some one of his own kind who would understand.  And he
+understood only too well!  Had he not himself that very evening been
+tempted to escape, to flee his duty?  He had resisted, but the
+temptation had been very strong--that very voice of Cornwall of which
+Bethel had spoken--and if it were to return he did not know what answer
+he might give.  But he was not thinking of Bethel; his thoughts were
+with the wife and daughter.  That poor pathetic little woman--and the
+girl----
+
+"And your wife and daughter?" he said.  "What of them?"
+
+"They are happy," Bethel said eagerly.  "They are indeed.  I don't see
+them very often, but they have their own interests--and friends.  My
+wife and I never had very much in common--Ah! you're going to scold,"
+he said, laughing, "and say just what all these other horrid people
+say.  But I know.  I grant it you all.  I'm a waster--through and
+through; it's damnably selfish--worst of all, in this energetic and
+pushing age, it's idle.  Oh!  I know and I'm sorry--but, do you know,
+I'm not ashamed.  I can't see it seriously.  I wouldn't harm a fly.
+Why can't they let me alone?  At least I am happy."
+
+They had reached the outskirts of the town by this time and Bethel
+stopped before a little dark house with red shutters and a tiny strip
+of garden.
+
+"Here we are!" said he.  "This is my place.  Come in and smoke!  It
+must be past your dinner hour up at 'The Flutes.'  Come and have
+something with me."
+
+Harry laughed.  "They have already ceased wondering at my erratic
+habits," he said.  "New Zealand is a bad place for method."
+
+He followed Bethel in.  It was a tiny hall, and on entering he stumbled
+over an umbrella-stand that lounged forward in a rickety position.
+Bethel apologised.  "We're in a bit of a mess," he said.  "In fact, to
+tell the truth, we always are!"  He hung his coat in the hall and led
+the way into the dining-room.  Mrs. Bethel and her daughter came
+forward.  The little woman was amazing in a dress of bright red silk
+and an absurd little yellow lace cap.  Only half the table was laid;
+for the rest a shabby green cloth, spotted with ink, formed a
+background for an incoherent litter of papers and needlework.  The
+walls were lined with books and there were some piled on the floor.
+
+A cold shoulder of mutton, baked potatoes in their skins, a melancholy
+glass dish containing celery, and a salad bowl startlingly empty, lay
+waiting on the table.
+
+"Anne," said Bethel, "I've brought a guest--up with the family port and
+let's be festive."
+
+His great body seemed to fill the room, and he brought with him the
+breath of the sea and the wind.  He began to carve the mutton like
+Siegfried making battle with Fafner, and indeed again and again during
+the evening he reminded Harry of Siegfried's impetuous humour and
+rejoicing animal spirits.
+
+Mrs. Bethel was delighted.  Her little eyes twinkled with excitement,
+her yellow cap was pushed awry, and her hands trembled with pleasure.
+It was obvious that a visitor was an unusual event.  Miss Bethel had
+said very little, but she had given Harry that same smile that he had
+seen before.  She busied herself now with the salad, and he watched her
+white fingers shine under the lamplight and the white curve of her neck
+as she bent over the bowl.  She was dressed in some dark stuff--quite
+simple and unassuming, but he thought that he had never seen anything
+so beautiful.
+
+He said very little, but he was quietly happy.  Bethel did not talk
+very much; he was eating furiously--not greedily, but with great
+pleasure and satisfaction.  Mrs. Bethel talked continuously.  Her eyes
+shone and her cap bobbed on her head like a live thing.
+
+"I said, Mr. Trojan, after our meeting the other day, that you would be
+a friend.  I said so to Mary coming back.  I felt sure that first day.
+It is so nice to have some one new in Pendragon--one gets used, you
+know, to the same faces and tired of them.  In my old home, Penlicott
+in Surrey, near Marlwood Beeches--you change at Grayling Junction--or
+you used to; I think you go straight through now.  But _there_ you know
+we knew everybody.  You really couldn't help it.  There was really only
+the Vicar and the Doctor, and he was so old.  Of course there were the
+Draytons; you must have heard of Mr. Herbert Drayton--he paints
+things--I forget quite what, but I know he's good.  They all lived
+there--such a lot of them and most peculiar in their habits; but one
+gets used to anything.  They all lived together for some time, about
+fifteen there were.  Mother and I dined there once or twice, and they
+had the funniest dining-room with pictures of Job all round the room
+that were most queer and rather disagreeable; and they all liked
+different things to drink, so they each had a bottle--of
+something--separately.  It looked quite funny to see the fifteen
+bottles, and then 'Job' on the wall, you know."
+
+But he really hadn't paid very much attention to her.  He had been
+thinking and wondering.  How was it that a man like Bethel had married
+such a wife?  He supposed that things had been different twenty years
+ago, with them as with him.  It was strange to think of the difference
+that twenty years could make.  She had been, perhaps, a little pretty,
+dainty thing then--the style of girl that a strong man like Bethel
+would fall in love with.  Then he thought of Miss Bethel--what was her
+life with a mother like that and a father who never thought about her
+at all?  She must, he thought, be lonely.  He almost hoped that she
+was.  It gave them kinship, because he was lonely too.  The
+conversation was not very animated; Mrs. Bethel was suddenly
+silent--she seemed to have collapsed with the effort, and sat huddled
+up in her chair, with her hands in her lap.
+
+He realised that he had said nothing to Miss Bethel, and he turned to
+her.  "You know London?" he said.  He wondered whether she longed for
+it sometimes--its excitement and life.
+
+"Oh yes," she said quickly; "we were there, you know, a long while ago,
+and I've been up once or twice since.  But it makes one feel so
+dreadfully small, as if one simply didn't count, and no woman likes
+that."
+
+"Pendragon makes one feel smaller," Harry said.  "When one is of no
+account even in a small place, then one is small indeed."
+
+He had not intended to speak bitterly, but she had caught the sound of
+it in his voice and she was suddenly sorry for him.  She had been a
+little afraid of him before--even on that terrible afternoon at "The
+Flutes"; but now she saw that he was disappointed--he had expected
+something and it had failed him.
+
+She said nothing then, and the meal came to an end.  Bethel dragged
+Harry into his study to see the books.  There was the same untidiness
+here.  The table was littered with papers and pens, tobacco jars,
+numerous pipes, some photographs.  From the floor to the ceiling were
+books--rows on rows--flung apparently into the shelves with no order or
+method.
+
+"I'm no good as far as books go," said Harry, laughing.  "There never
+was such a heathen.  There have always been other things to do, and I
+must confess it is a mystery to me how men get time to read at all.  If
+I do get time I'm generally done up, and a novel's the only thing I'm
+fit for."
+
+"Ah, then, you don't know the book craze," Bethel Said.  "It's worse
+than drink.  I've seen it absolutely ruin a man.  You can't stop--if
+you see a book you must get it, whether you really want it or no.  You
+go on buying and buying and buying.  You get far more than you can ever
+read.  But you're a miser and you hate even lending them.  You sit in
+your room and count the covers, and you're no fit company for man or
+beast."
+
+Harry looked at him--"You've known it?"
+
+"Oh yes!  I've known it.  I'm a bit better now--I'm out such a lot.
+But even now there's a great deal here that I've never read, and I add
+to it continually.  The worst of it is," he said, laughing, "that we
+can't afford it.  It's very hard on Mary and the wife, but I'm a rotten
+loafer, and that's the end of it."
+
+He said it so gaily and with so little sense of responsibility that you
+couldn't possibly think that it weighed on him.  But he looked such a
+boy, standing there with his hands in his pockets and that
+half-penitent, half-humorous look in his eyes, that you couldn't be
+angry.  Harry laughed.
+
+"Upon my word, you're amazing!"
+
+"Oh! you'll get sick of me.  It's all so selfish and slack, I know.
+But I struggled once--I'm in the grip now."  He talked about Borrow and
+displayed a little grey-bound "Walden" with pride.  He spoke of Richard
+Jefferies with an intimate affection as though he had known the man.
+
+He gave Harry some of his enthusiasm, and he lent him "Lavengro."  He
+described it and Harry compared mentally Isobel Berners with Mary
+Bethel.
+
+Then they went up to the little drawing-room--an ugly room, but
+redeemed by a great window overlooking the sea, and a large photograph
+of Mary on the mantelpiece.  Under the light of the lamp the silver
+frame glittered and sparkled.
+
+He sat by the window and talked to her, and again he had that same
+curious sense of having known her before: he spoke of it.
+
+"I expect it's in another existence then," she said; "as I've never
+been into New Zealand and you've never been out of it--at least, since
+I've been born.  But, of course, I've talked about you to Robin.  We
+speculated, you know.  We hadn't any photographs much to help us, and
+it was quite a good game."
+
+"Ah!  Robin!"
+
+"I want to speak to you about him," she said, turning round to him.
+"You won't think me interfering, will you? but I've meant to speak ever
+since the other day.  I was afraid that, perhaps--don't think it
+dreadfully rude of me--you hadn't quite understood Robin.  He's at a
+difficult age, you know, and there are a lot of things about him that
+are quite absurd.  And I have been afraid that you might take those
+absurdities for the real things and fancy that that was all that was
+there.  Cambridge--and other things--have made him think that a certain
+sort of attitude is essential if you're to get on.  I don't think he
+even sincerely believes in it.  But they have taught him that he must,
+at least, seem to believe.  The other things are there all right, but
+he hides them--he is almost ashamed of any one suspecting their
+existence."
+
+"Thank you!" Harry said quietly.  "It is very kind of you and I'm
+deeply grateful.  It's quite true that Robin and I haven't seemed to
+hit it off properly.  I expect that it is my fault.  I have tried to
+see his point of view and have the same interests, but every effort
+that I've made has seemed to make things worse.  He distrusts me, I
+think, and--well--of course, that hurts.  All the things in which I had
+hoped we would share have no interest for him."
+
+"Don't you think, perhaps," she said, "that you've been a little too
+anxious--perhaps, a little too affectionate?  I am speaking like this
+because I care for Robin so much.  We have been such good friends for
+years now, and I think he has let me see a side of him that he has
+hidden from most people.  He is curiously sensitive, and really, I
+think, very shy; and most of all, he has a perfect horror of being
+absurd.  That is what I meant about your being affectionate.  He would
+think, perhaps, that the rest were laughing at him.  It's as if you
+were dragging something that was very sacred and precious out into the
+light before all those others.  Boys are like that; they are terrified
+lest any one should know what good there is in them--it isn't quite
+good form."
+
+They were silent for some time.  Harry was throwing her words like a
+searchlight on the events of the past week, and they revealed much that
+had been very dark and confused.  But he was thinking of her.  Their
+acquaintance seemed to have grown into intimacy already.
+
+"I can't thank you enough," he said again.
+
+"It is so nice of you," she said laughing, "not to have thought it
+presumptuous of me.  But Robin is a very good friend of mine.  Of
+course you will find out what a sterling fellow he is--under all that
+superficiality.  He is one of my best friends here!"
+
+He got up to go.  As he held out his hand, he said: "I will tell you
+frankly, Miss Bethel, that Pendragon hasn't received me with open arms.
+I don't know why it should--and twenty years in New Zealand knocks the
+polish off.  But it has been delightful this evening--more than you
+know."
+
+"It has been nice for us too," Mary answered.  "I don't know that
+Pendragon is exactly thronging our door night and day--and a new friend
+is worth having.  You see I've claimed you as a friend because you
+listened so patiently to my sermon--that's a sure test."
+
+She had spoken lightly but he had felt the bitterness in her voice.
+Life was hard for her too, then?  He knew that he was glad.
+
+"I shall come back," he said.
+
+"Please," she answered.
+
+He said good-bye to Mrs. Bethel and she pressed his hand very warmly.
+"You are very kind to take pity on us," she said, ogling him under the
+gas in the hall; "I hope you will come often."
+
+Bethel said very little.  He walked with him to the gate and laughed.
+"We're absurd, aren't we, Trojan?" he said.  "But don't neglect us
+altogether.  Even absurdity is refreshing sometimes."
+
+But Harry went up the hill with a happier heart than he had had since
+he entered Pendragon.
+
+That promise of adventure had been fulfilled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+Randal was only at "The Flutes" two days, but he effected a good deal
+in that time.  He did nothing very active--called on Mrs. le Terry and
+rode over the Downs once with Robin--but he managed to leave a flock of
+very active impressions behind him.  That, as he knew well, was his
+strong point.  He could not be with you a day without vaguely, almost
+indistinctly, but nevertheless quite certainly, influencing your
+opinions.  He never said anything very definite, and, on looking back,
+you could never assert that he had positively taken any one point of
+view; but he had left, as it were, atmosphere--an assurance that this
+was the really right thing to do, this the proper attitude for correct
+breeding to adopt.  It was always, with him, a case of correct
+breeding, and that was why the Trojans liked him so very much.
+"Randal," as Clare said, "knew so precisely who were sheep and who were
+goats, and he showed you the difference so clearly."
+
+Whenever he came to stay some former acquaintances were dropped as
+being, perhaps, not quite the right people.  He never said that any one
+was not the right person, that would be bad breeding, but you realised,
+of your own accord, that they were not quite right.  That was why the
+impression was so strong--it seemed to come from yourself; your eyes
+were suddenly opened and you wondered that you hadn't seen it before.
+
+He said very little of Trojan people this time; the main result of his
+visit was its effect on Harry's position.
+
+Had you been a stranger you would have noticed nothing; the motto of
+the gentleman of good breeding is, "The end and aim of all true
+opinions is the concealing of them from the wrong person."
+
+Randal was exceedingly polite to Harry, so polite that Robin and Clare
+knew immediately that he disapproved, but Harry was pleased.  Randal
+spoke warmly to Robin.  "You are lucky to have such a father, Bob; it's
+what we all want, you and I especially, a little fresh air let into our
+Cambridge dust and confusion; it's most refreshing to find some one who
+cares nothing about all those things that have seemed to us, quite
+erroneously probably, so valuable.  You should copy him, Robin."
+
+But Robin made no reply.  He understood perfectly.  There had been some
+qualities in his father that he had, deep down in his nature, admired.
+He had seemed to be without doubt a man on whom one could rely in a
+tight corner, and in spite of himself he had liked his father's
+frankness.  It was unusual.  There was always another meaning in
+everything that Robin's friends said, but there was never any doubt
+about Harry.  He missed the fine shades, of course, and was lamentably
+lacking in discrimination, but you did know where you were.  Robin had,
+almost reluctantly, admired this before the coming of Randal.  But now
+there could be no question.  When Randal was there you had displayed
+before you the complete art of successful allusion.  Nothing was ever
+directly stated, but everything was hinted, and you were compelled to
+believe that this really was the perfection of good breeding.  Robin
+admired Randal exceedingly.  He took his dicta very seriously and
+accepted his criticism.  The judgment of his father completed the
+impression that he had begun to receive.  He was impossible.  Randal
+was going by the 10.45, and he would walk to the station.
+
+"A whiff of fresh air, Robin, is absolutely essential.  You must walk
+down with me.  I hate to go, Miss Trojan."
+
+"Very soon to return, I hope, Mr. Randal," answered Clare.  She liked
+him, and thought him an excellent influence for Robin.
+
+"Thank you--it's very kind--but one's busy, you know.  It's been hard
+enough to snatch these few days.  Besides, Robin isn't alone in the
+same way now.  He has his father."
+
+Clare made no reply, but her silence was eloquent.
+
+"I'm sorry for him, Miss Trojan," he said.  "He is, I'm afraid, a
+little out of it.  Twenty years, you know, is a long time."
+
+Clare smiled.  "He is unchanged," she said.  "What he was as a boy, he
+is now."
+
+"He is fortunate," Randal said gravely.  "For most of us experience has
+a jostling series of shocks ready.  Life hurts."
+
+He said good-bye with that air of courtly melancholy that Clare admired
+so much.  He shook Harry warmly by the hand and expressed a hope of
+another meeting.
+
+"I should be delighted," Harry said.  "What sort of time am I likely to
+catch you in town?"
+
+But Randal, alarmed at this serious acceptance of an entirely ironical
+proposal, was immediately vague and gave no definite promise.  Harry
+watched them pass down the drive, then he turned back slowly into the
+house.
+
+It was one of those blue and gold days that are only to be realised
+perfectly in Cornwall--blue of the sky and the sea, gold on the roofs
+and the rich background of red and brown in the autumn-tinted trees,
+whilst the deep green of the lawns in front of the house seemed to hold
+both blues and golds in its lights and shadows.  The air was perfectly
+still and the smoke from a distant bonfire hung in strange wreaths of
+grey-blue in the light against the trees, as though carved delicately
+in marble.
+
+Randal discussed his prospects.  He spoke, as he invariably did with
+regard to his past and future, airily and yet impressively: "I don't
+like to make myself too cheap," he said.  "There are things any sort of
+fellow can do, and I must say that I shrink from taking bread out of
+the mouths of some of them.  But of course there are things that one
+_must_ do--where special knowledge is wanted--not that I'm any good,
+you know, but I've had chances.  Besides, one must work slowly.
+Style's the thing--Flaubert and Pater for ever--the doctrine of the one
+word."
+
+Robin looked at him with admiration.
+
+"By Jove, Randal, I wish I could write; I sometimes feel quite--well,
+it sounds silly--but inspired, you know--as if one saw things quite
+differently.  It was very like that in Germany once or twice."
+
+"Ah, we're all like that at times," Randal spoke encouragingly.  "But
+don't you trust it--an _ignis fatuus_ if ever there was one.  That is
+why we have bank clerks at Peckham and governesses in Bloomsbury
+writing their reminiscences.  It's those moments of inspiration that
+are responsible for all our over-crowded literature."
+
+They had chosen the path over the fields to the station, and suddenly
+at the bend of the hill the sea sprang before them, a curving mirror
+that reflected the blue of the sky and was clouded mistily with the
+gold of the sun.  That sudden springing forward of the sea was always
+very wonderful, even when it had been seen again and again, and Robin
+stopped and shaded his eyes with his hand.
+
+"It's fine, isn't it, Randal?" he said.  "One gets fond of the place."
+
+He was a little ashamed to have betrayed such feeling and spoke
+apologetically.  He went on hurriedly.  "There was an old chap in
+Germany--at Worms--who was most awfully interesting.  He kept a little
+bookshop, and I used to go down and talk to him, and he said once that
+the sea was the most beautiful dream that the world contained, but you
+must never get too near or the dream broke, and from that moment you
+had no peace."
+
+Randal looked at Robin anxiously.  "I say, old chap, this place is
+getting on your nerves; always being here is bad for you.  Why don't
+you come up to town or go abroad?  You're seedy."
+
+"Oh, I'm all right," Robin said, rather irritably.  "Only one wonders
+sometimes if--" he broke off suddenly.  "I'm a bit worried about
+something," he said.
+
+He was immediately aware that he had said nothing to Randal about the
+Feverel affair and he wondered why.  Randal would have been the natural
+person to talk to about it; his advice would have been worth having.
+But Robin felt vaguely that it would be better not.  For some strange
+reason, as yet unanalysed, he scarcely trusted him as he had done in
+the old days.  He was still wondering why, when they arrived at the
+station.
+
+They said good-bye affectionately--rather more affectionately than
+usual.  There was a little sense of strain, and Robin felt relieved
+when the train had gone.  As he hurried from the platform he puzzled
+over it.  He could hold no clue, but he knew that their friendship had
+changed a little.  He was sorry.
+
+As he turned down the station road he decided that life was becoming
+very complicated.  There was first his father; that oughtn't in the
+nature of things to have complicated matters at all--but it was
+complicated, because there was no knowing what a man like that would
+do.  He might let the family down so badly; it was almost like having
+gunpowder in your cellar.  Randal had thought him absurd.  Robin saw
+that clearly, and Randal's opinion was that of all truly sensible
+people.  But, after all, the real complication was the Feverel affair.
+It was now nearly ten days since that terrible evening and nothing had
+happened.  Robin wasn't sure what _could_ have happened, but he had
+expected something.  He had waited for a note; she would most assuredly
+write and her letter would serve as a hint, he would know how to act;
+but there had been no sign.  On the day following the interview he had
+felt, for the most part, relief.  He was suddenly aware of the burden
+that the affair had been, he was a free man; but with this there had
+been compunction.  He had acted like a brute; he was surprised that he
+could have been so hard, and he was a little ashamed of meeting the
+public gaze.  If people only realised, he thought, what a cad he was,
+they would assuredly have nothing to do with him.  As the days passed,
+this feeling increased and he was extremely uncomfortable.  He had
+never before doubted that he was a very decent fellow--nothing,
+perhaps, exceptional in any way, but, judged by every standard, he
+passed muster.  Now he wasn't so sure, he had done something that he
+would have entirely condemned in another man, and this showed him
+plainly and most painfully the importance that he placed on the other
+man's opinion.  He was beginning to grow his crop of ideas and he was
+already afraid of the probable harvest.
+
+That his affection for Dahlia was dead there could be no question, but
+that it was buried, either for himself or the public, was, most
+unfortunately, not the case.  He was afraid of discovery for the first
+time in his life, and it was unpleasant.  Dahlia herself would be
+quiet; at least, he was almost sure, although her outbreak the other
+evening had surprised him.  But he was afraid of Mrs. Feverel.  He felt
+now that she had never liked him; he saw her as some grim dragon
+waiting for his inevitable surrender.  He did not know what she would
+do; he was beginning to realise his inexperience, but he knew that she
+would never allow the affair to pass quietly away.  To do him justice,
+it was not so much the fear of personal exposure that frightened him;
+that, of course, would be unpleasant--he would have to face the
+derision of his enemies and the contempt of those people whom formerly
+he had himself despised.  But it was not personal contempt, it was the
+disgrace to the family; the house was suddenly threatened on two
+sides--his father, the Feverels--and he was frightened.  He saw his
+name in the papers; the Trojan name dragged through the mud because of
+his own folly--Oh! it must be stopped at all costs.  But the
+uncertainty of it was worrying him.  Ten days had passed and nothing
+was done.  Ten days, and he had been able to speak of it to no one; it
+had haunted him all day and had spoiled his sleep; first, because he
+had done something of which he was ashamed, and secondly, because he
+was afraid that people might know.
+
+There were the letters.  He remembered some of the sentences now and
+bit his lip.  How could he have been such a fool?  She must give them
+back--of course she would; but there was Mrs. Feverel.
+
+The uncertainty was torturing him--he must find out how matters were,
+and suddenly, on the inspiration of the moment, he decided to go and
+see Dahlia at once.  Things could not be worse, and at least the
+uncertainty would be ended.  The golden day irritated him, and he found
+the dark gloom of the Feverels' street a relief.  A man was playing an
+organ at the corner, and three dirty, tattered children were dancing
+noisily in the middle of the road.  He watched them for a moment before
+ringing the bell, and wondered how they could seem so unconcerned, and
+he thought them abandoned.
+
+He found Dahlia alone in the gaudy drawing-room.  She gave a little cry
+when she saw who it was, and her cheeks flushed red, and then the
+colour faded.  He noticed that she was looking ill and rather untidy.
+There were dark lines under her eyes and her mouth was drawn.  There
+was an awkward pause; he had sat down with his hat in his hand and he
+was painfully ill at ease.
+
+"I knew you would come back, Robin," she began at last.  "Only you have
+been a long time--ten days.  I have never gone out, because I was
+afraid that I would miss you.  But I knew that you would be sorry after
+the other night, because you know, dear, you hurt me terribly, and for
+a time I really thought you meant it."
+
+"But I do mean it," Robin broke in.  "I did and I do.  I'm sorry,
+Dahlia, for having hurt you, but I thought that you would see it as I
+do--that it must, I mean, stop.  I had hoped that you would understand."
+
+But she came over and stood by him, smiling rather timidly.  "I don't
+want to start it all over again," she said.  "It was silly of me to
+have made such a fuss the other night.  I have been thinking all these
+ten days, and it has been my fault all along.  I have bothered you by
+coming here and interfering when I wasn't really wanted.  Mother and I
+will go away again and then you shall come and stay, and we shall be
+all alone--like we were at Cambridge.  I have learnt a good deal during
+these last few days, and if you will only be patient with me I will try
+very hard to improve."
+
+She stood by his chair and laid her hand on his arm.  He would have
+thrilled at her touch six months before--now he was merely impatient.
+It was so annoying that the affair should have to be reopened when they
+had decided it finally the other night.  He felt again the blind,
+unreasoning fear of exposure.  He had never before doubted his bravery,
+but there had never been any question of attack--the House had been, it
+seemed, founded on a rock, he had never doubted its stability before.
+Now, with all the cruelty of a man who was afraid for the first time,
+he had no mercy.
+
+"It is over, Dahlia--there is no other possibility.  We had both made a
+mistake; I am sorry and regret extremely if I had led you to think that
+it could ever have been otherwise.  I see it more clearly than I saw it
+ten days ago--quite plainly now--and there's no purpose served in
+keeping the matter open; here's an end.  We will both forget.  Heroics
+are no good; after all, we are man and woman--it's better to leave it
+at that and accept the future quietly."
+
+He spoke coldly and calmly, indeed he was surprised that he could face
+it like that, but his one thought was for peace, to put this spectre
+that had haunted him these ten days behind him and watch the world
+again with a straight gaze--he must have no secrets.
+
+She had moved away and stood by the fireplace, looking straight before
+her.  She was holding herself together with a terrible effort; she must
+quiet her brain and beat back her thoughts.  If she thought for a
+moment she would break down, and during these ten days she had been
+schooling herself to face whatever might come--shame, exposure,
+anything--she would not cry and beg for pity as she had done before.
+But it was the end, the end, the end!  The end of so much that had
+given her a new soul during the last few months.  She must go back to
+those dreary years that had had no meaning in them, all those
+purposeless grey days that had stretched in endless succession on to a
+dismal future in which there shone no sun.  Oh! he couldn't know what
+it had all meant to her--it could be flung aside by him without regret.
+For him it was a foolish memory, for her it was death.
+
+The tears were coming, her lips were quivering, but she clenched her
+hands until the nails dug into the flesh.  The sun poured in a great
+flood of colour through the window, and meanwhile her heart was broken.
+She had read of it often enough and had laughed--she had not known that
+it meant that terrible dull throbbing pain and no joy or hope or light
+anywhere.  But she spoke to him quietly.
+
+"I had thought that you were braver, Robin.  That you had cared enough
+not to mind what they said.  You are right: it has all been a mistake."
+
+"Yes," he said doggedly, without looking at her.  "We've been foolish.
+I hadn't thought enough about others.  You see after all one owes
+something to one's people.  It would never do, Dahlia, it wouldn't
+really.  You'd never like it either--you see we're different.  At
+Cambridge one couldn't see it so clearly, but here--well, there are
+things one owes to one's people, tradition, and, oh! lots of things!
+You have got your customs, we have ours--it doesn't do to mix."
+
+He hadn't meant to put it so clearly.  He scarcely realised what he had
+said because he was not thinking of her at all; it was only that one
+thing that he saw in front of him, how to get out, away, clear of the
+whole entanglement, where there was no question of suspicion and
+possible revelation of secrets.  He was not thinking of her.
+
+But the cruelty of it, the naked, unhesitating truth of it, stung her
+as nothing had ever hurt her before--it was as though he had struck her
+in the face.  She was not good enough, she was not fit.  He had said it
+before, but then he had been angry.  She had not believed it; but now
+he was speaking calmly, coldly--she was not good enough!
+
+And in a moment her idol had tumbled to the ground--her god was lying
+pitifully in the dust, and all the Creed that she had learnt so
+patiently and faithfully had crumbled into nothing.  Her despair
+seemed, for the moment, to have gone; she only felt burning
+contempt--contempt for him, that he could seem so small--contempt for
+herself, that she could have worshipped at such altars.
+
+She turned round and looked at him.
+
+"That is rather unfair.  You say that I am not your equal socially.
+Well, we will leave it at that--you are quite right--it is over."
+
+He lowered his eyes before her steady gaze.  At last he was ashamed; he
+had not meant to put it brutally.  He had behaved like a cad and he
+knew it.  Her white face, her hands clenched tightly at her side, the
+brave lift of her head as she faced him, moved him as her tears and
+emotions had never done.
+
+He sprang up and stood by her.
+
+"Dahlia, I've been a brute, a cad--I didn't know what I had said--I
+didn't mean it like that, as you thought.  Only I've been so worried,
+I've not known where to turn and--oh, don't you see, I'm so young.  I
+get driven, I can't stand up against them all."
+
+Why, he was nearly crying.  The position was suddenly reversed, and she
+could almost have laughed at the change.  He was looking at her
+piteously, like a boy convicted of orchard-robbing--and she had loved
+him, worshipped him!  Five minutes ago his helplessness would have
+stirred her, she would have wanted to take him and protect him and
+comfort him; but now all that was past--she felt only contempt and
+outraged pride: her eyes were hard and her hands unclenched.
+
+"It is no good, Robin.  You were quite right.  There is an end of
+everything.  It was a mistake for both of us, and perhaps it is as well
+that we should know it now.  It will spare us later."
+
+So that was the end.  He felt little triumph or satisfaction; he was
+only ashamed.
+
+He turned to go without a word.  Then he remembered--"There are the
+letters?"
+
+"Ah! you must let me keep them--for a memory."  She was not looking at
+him, but out of the window on to the street.  A cab was slowly crawling
+in the distance--she could see the end of the driver's whip as he
+flicked at his horses.
+
+"You can't--you don't mean----?"  Robin turned back to her.
+
+"I mean nothing--only I am--tired.  You had better go.  We will write
+if there is anything more."
+
+"Look here!"  Robin was trembling from head to foot.  "You must let me
+have them back.  It's serious--more than you know.  People might see
+them and--my God! you would ruin me!"
+
+He was speaking melodramatically, and he looked melodramatic and very
+ridiculous.  He was crushing his bowler in his hands.
+
+"No.  I will keep them!"  She spoke slowly and quite calmly, as though
+she had thought it all out before.  "They are valuable.  Now you must
+go.  This has been silly enough--Good-bye."
+
+She turned to the window and he was dismissed.  His pride came to the
+rescue; he would not let her see that he cared, so he went--without
+another word.
+
+She stood in the same position, and watched him go down the street.  He
+was walking quickly and at the same time a little furtively, as though
+he was afraid of meeting acquaintances.  She turned away from the
+window, and then, suddenly, knelt on the floor with her head in her
+hands.  She sobbed miserably, hopelessly, with her hands pressed
+against her face.
+
+And Mrs. Feverel found her kneeling there in the sunlight an hour later.
+
+"Dahlia," she said softly, "Dahlia!"
+
+The girl looked up.  "He has gone, mother," she said.  "And he is never
+coming back.  I sent him away."
+
+And Mrs. Feverel said nothing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+There were times when Harry felt curiously, impressively, the age of
+the house.  It was not all of it old, it had been added to from time to
+time by successive Trojans; but there had, from the earliest days, been
+a stronghold on the hill overlooking the sea and keeping guard.
+
+He had had a wonderful pride in it on his return, but now he began to
+feel as though he had no right in it.  Surely if any one had a right to
+such a heritage it was he, but they had isolated him and told him that
+he had no place there.  The gardens, the corners and battlements of the
+house, the great cliff falling sheer to the sea, had had no welcome for
+him, and when he had claimed his succession they had refused him.  He
+was beginning to give the stocks and stones of the House a personal
+existence.  Sometimes at night, when the moon gave the place grey
+shadows and white lights, or in the early morning when the first birds
+were crying in the trees and the sea was slowly taking colour from the
+rising sun, in the perfect stillness and beauty of those hours the
+house had seemed to speak to him with a new voice.  He imagined,
+fantastically at times, that the white statues in the garden watched
+him with grave eyes, wondering what place he would take in the
+chronicles of the House.
+
+It was Sunday afternoon, and he was alone in the library.  That was a
+room that had always appealed to him, with its dark red walls covered
+from floor to ceiling with books, its wide stone fireplace, its soft,
+heavy carpets, its wonderfully comfortable armchairs.  It seemed to him
+the very perfection of that spirit of orderly comfort and luxurious
+simplicity for which he had so earnestly longed in New Zealand.  He sat
+in that room for hours, alone, thinking, wondering, puzzling, devising
+new plans for Robin's surrender and rejecting them as soon as they were
+formed.
+
+He was sitting by the fire now, hearing the coals click as they fell
+into the golden furnace that awaited them.  He was comparing the
+incidents of the morning with those of the preceding Sunday, and he
+knew that things were approaching a crisis.  Clare had scarcely spoken
+to him for three days.  Garrett and Robin had not said a word beyond a
+casual good-morning.  They were ignoring him, continuing their daily
+life as though he did not exist at all.  He remembered that he had felt
+his welcome a fortnight before a little cold--it seemed rapturous
+compared with the present state of things.
+
+They had driven to church that morning in state.  No one had exchanged
+a word during the whole drive.  Clare had sat quietly, in solemn
+magnificence, without moving an eyelid.  They had moved from the
+carriage to the church in majestic procession, watched by an admiring
+cluster of townspeople.  He had liked Clare's fine bearing and Robin's
+carriage; there was no doubt that they supported family traditions
+worthily, but he felt that, in the eyes of the world, he scarcely
+counted at all.  It was a cold and over-decorated church, with an air
+of wealth and lack of all warm emotions that was exactly characteristic
+of its congregation.  Harry thought that he had never seen a gathering
+of more unresponsive people.  An excellent choir sang Stainer in B flat
+with perfect precision and fitting respect, and the hymns and psalms
+were murmured with proper decorum.  The clergyman who had come to tea
+on the day after Harry's arrival preached a carefully calculated and
+excellently worded sermon.  Although his text was the publican's "Lord,
+be merciful to me, a sinner," it was evident that his address was
+tinged with the Pharisee's self-congratulations.
+
+A little gathering was formed in the porch after the service, and Mrs.
+le Terry, magnificent in green silk and an enormous hat, was the only
+person who took any interest in Harry, and she was looking over his
+head during the conversation in order, apparently, to fix the attention
+of some gentleman moving in the opposite direction.
+
+At lunch Harry had made a determined effort towards cheerfulness.  He
+had learnt that heartiness was bad manners and effusion a crime, so he
+was quiet and restrained.  But his efforts failed miserably; Robin
+seemed worried and his thoughts were evidently far away, Clare was
+occupied with the impertinence of some stranger who had thrust himself
+into the Trojan pew at the last moment, and Garrett was repeating
+complacently a story that he had heard at the Club tending to prove the
+unsanitary condition of the lower classes in general and the
+inhabitants of the Cove in particular.  After lunch they had left him
+alone; he had not dared to petition Robin for a walk, so, sick at heart
+and miserably lonely, he had wandered disconsolately into the library.
+He had taken from one of the shelves the volume T-U of _The Dictionary
+of National Biography_, and had amused himself by searching for the
+names of heroes in Trojan annals.
+
+There was only one who really mattered--a certain Humphrey Trojan,
+1718-1771; a man apparently of poor circumstances and quite a distant
+cousin of the main branch, one who had been in all probability despised
+by the Sir Henry Trojan of that time.  Nevertheless he had been a
+person of some account in history and had, from the towers of the
+House, watched the sea and the stars to some purpose.  He had been
+admitted, Harry imagined, into the sacred precincts after his
+researches had made him a person of national importance, and it was
+amusing to picture Sir Henry's pride transformed into a rather
+obsequious familiarity when "My cousin, Humphrey, had been honoured by
+an interview with his Majesty and had received an Order at the royal
+hand"--amusing, yes, but not greatly to the glory of Sir Henry.  Harry
+liked to picture Humphrey in his days of difficulty--sturdy,
+persevering, confident in his own ability, oblivious of the cuts dealt
+him by his cousin.  Time would show.
+
+He let the book fall and gazed at the fire, thinking.  After all, he
+was a poor creature.  He had none of that perseverance and belief in
+his own ultimate success, and it was better, perhaps, to get right out
+of it, to throw up the sponge, to turn tail, and again there floated
+before him that wonderful dream of liberty and the road--of a
+relationship with the world at large, and no constraint of family
+dignity and absurd grades of respectability.  Off with the harness; he
+had worn it for a fortnight and he could bear it no longer.  Bethel was
+right; he would follow the same path and find his soul by losing it in
+the eyes of the world.  But after all, there was Robin.  He had not
+given it a fair trial, and it was only cowardice that had spoken to him.
+
+The clock struck half-past three and he went upstairs to see his
+father.  The old man seldom left his bed now.  He grew weaker every day
+and the end could not be far away.  He had no longer any desire to
+live, and awaited with serene confidence the instant of departure,
+being firmly convinced that Death was too good a gentleman to treat a
+Trojan scurvily, and that, whatever the next world might contain, he
+would at least be assured of the respect and deference that the present
+world had shown him.  His mind dwelt continually on his early days,
+and, even when there was no one present to listen, he repeated
+anecdotes and reminiscences for the benefit of the world at large.  His
+face seemed to have dwindled considerably, but his eyes were always
+alive--twinkling over the bedclothes like lights in a dark room.  His
+mouth never moved, only his hand, claw-like and yellow as parchment,
+clutched the bedclothes and sometimes waved feebly in the air to
+emphasise his meaning.  He had grown strangely intolerant of Clare, and
+although he submitted to her offices as usual, did so reluctantly and
+with no good grace; she had served him faithfully and diligently for
+twenty years and this was her reward.  She said nothing, but she laid
+it to Harry's charge.
+
+Sir Jeremy's eyes twinkled when he saw his son.  "Hey, Harry, my
+boy--all of 'em out, aren't they?  Devilish good thing--no one to worry
+us.  Just give the pillows a punch and pull that table nearer--that's
+right.  Just pull that blind up--I can't see the sea."
+
+The room had changed its character within the last week.  It was a
+place of silences and noiseless tread, and the scent of flowers mingled
+with the intangible odour of medicine.  A great fire burnt in the open
+fireplace, and heavy curtains had been hung over the door to prevent
+draughts.
+
+Harry moved silently about the room, flung up the blind to let in the
+sun, propped up the pillows, and then sat down by the bed.
+
+"You're looking better, father," he said; "you'll soon be up again."
+
+"The devil I will," said Sir Jeremy.  "No, it's not for me.  I'm here
+for a month or two, and then I'm off.  I've had my day, and a damned
+good one too.  What do you think o' that girl now, Harry--she's
+fine--what?"
+
+He produced from under the pillow a photograph, yellow with age, of a
+dancer--jet-black hair and black eyes, her body balanced on one leg,
+her hands on her hips.  "Anonita Sendella--a devilish fine woman, by
+gad--sixty years ago that was--and Tom Buckley and I were in the
+running.  He had the money and I had the looks, although you wouldn't
+think it now.  She liked me until she got tired of me and she died o'
+drink--not many like that nowadays."  He gazed at the photograph whilst
+his eyes twinkled.  "Legs--by Heaven! what legs!" He chuckled.
+"Wouldn't do for Clare to see that; she was shaking my pillows this
+mornin' and I was in a deuce of a fright--thought the thing would
+tumble out."
+
+He lay back on his pillows thinking, and Harry stared out of the
+window.  The end would come in a month or two--perhaps sooner; and
+then, what would happen?  He would take his place as head of the
+family.  He laughed to himself--head of the family! when Clare and
+Garrett and Robin all hated him?  Head of the family!
+
+The sky was grey and the sea flecked with white horses.  It was
+shifting colours to-day like a mother-of-pearl shell--a great band of
+dark grey on the horizon, and then a soft carpet of green turning to
+grey again by the shore.  The grey hoofs [Transcriber's note: roofs?]
+of the Cove crowded down to the edge of the land, seeming to lean a
+little forward, as though listening to what the sea had to say; the
+sun, breaking mistily through the clouds, was a round ball of dull
+gold--a line of breakwater, far in the distance, seemed ever about to
+advance down the stretch of sea to the shore, as though it would hurl
+itself on the cluster of brown sails in the little bay, huddling there
+for protection.  Head of the House!  What was the use, when the House
+didn't want him?
+
+His father was watching him and seemed to have read his thoughts.
+"You'll take my place, Harry?" he said.  "They won't like it, you know.
+It was partly my fault.  I sent you away and you grew up away, and
+they've always been here.  I've been wanting you to come back all this
+time, and it wasn't because I was angry that I didn't ask you--but it
+was better for you.  You don't see it yet; you came back thinking
+they'd welcome you and be glad to see you, and you're a bit hurt that
+they haven't.  They've been hard to you, all of 'em--your boy as well.
+I've known, right enough.  But it cuts both ways, you see.  They can't
+see your point of view, and they're afraid of the open air you're
+letting in on to them.  You're too soft, Harry; you've shown them that
+it hurts, and they've wanted it to hurt.  Give 'em a stiff back, Harry,
+give 'em a stiff back.  Then you'll have 'em.  That's like us Trojans.
+We're devilish cruel because we're devilish proud; if you're kind we
+hurt, but if you do a bit of hurting on your own account we like it."
+
+"I've made a mess of it," Harry said, "a hopeless mess of it.  I've
+tried everything, and it's all failed.  I'd better back out of it--"
+Then, after a pause, "Robin hates me----"
+
+Sir Jeremy chuckled.
+
+"Oh no, he doesn't.  He's like the rest of us.  You wanted him to give
+himself away at once, and of course he wouldn't.  They're trying you
+and waiting to see what you'll do, and Robin's just following on.
+You'll be all right, only give 'em a stiff back, the whole crowd of
+'em."
+
+Suddenly his wrinkled yellow hand shot out from under the bedclothes
+and he grasped his son's.  "You're a damned fine chap," he said, "and
+I'm proud of you--only you're a bit of a fool--sentimental, you know.
+But you'll make more of the place than I've ever done, God bless you--"
+after which he lay back on his pillows again, and was soon asleep.
+
+Harry waited for a little, and then he stole out of the room.  He told
+the nurse to take his place, and went downstairs.
+
+It was four o'clock, and he was going to tea at the Bethels'.  He had
+been there pretty frequently during the past week--that and the Cove
+were his only courts of welcome.  He knew that his going there had only
+aggravated his offences in the eyes of his sister, but that he could
+not help.  Why should they dictate his friends to him?
+
+The little drawing-room was neat and clean.  There were some flowers,
+and the chairs and sofa were not littered with books and needlework and
+strange fragments of feminine garments.  Mrs. Bethel was gorgeous in a
+green silk dress and the paint was more obtrusive than ever.  Her eyes
+were red as though she had been crying, and her hair as usual had
+escaped bounds.
+
+Mary was making tea and smiled up at him.  "Shout at father," she said.
+"He's downstairs in the study, browsing.  He'll come up when he knows
+you are here."
+
+Harry went to the head of the stairs and called, and Bethel came
+rushing up.  Sunday made no difference to his clothes, and he wore the
+grey suit and flannel collar of their first meeting.
+
+His greeting was, as ever, boisterous.  "Hullo! Trojan! that's
+splendid!  I was afraid they'd carry you off to that church of yours or
+you'd have a tea-party or something.  I'm glad they've spared you."
+
+"No, I went this morning," Harry answered, "all of us solemnly in the
+family coach.  I thought that was enough for one day."
+
+"We used to have a carriage when papa was alive," said Mrs. Bethel,
+"and we drove to church every Sunday.  We were the only people beside
+the Porsons, and theirs was only a pony-cart."
+
+"Well, for my part, I hate driving," said Mary.  "It puts you in a bad
+temper for the sermon."
+
+"Let's have tea," said Bethel.  "I'm as hungry as though I'd listened
+to fifty parsons."
+
+And, indeed, he always was.  He ate as though he had had no meal for a
+month at least, and he had utterly demolished the tea-cake before he
+realised that no one else had had any.
+
+"Oh, I say, I'm so sorry," he said ruefully.  "Mary, why didn't you
+tell me?  I'll never forgive myself----" and proceeded to finish the
+saffron buns.
+
+"All the same," said Mary, "we're going to church to-night, all of us,
+and if you're very good, Mr. Trojan, you shall come too."
+
+Harry paused for a moment.  "I shall be delighted," he said; "but where
+do you go?"
+
+"There's a little church called St. Sennan's.  You haven't heard of it,
+probably.  It's past the Cove--on a hill looking over the sea.  It's
+the most tumble-down old place you ever saw, and nobody goes there
+except a few fishermen, but we know the clergyman and like him.  I like
+the place too--you can listen to the sea if you're bored with the
+sermon."
+
+"The parson is like one of the prophets," said Bethel.  "Too strong for
+the Pendragon point of view.  It's a place of ruins, Trojan, and the
+congregation are like a crowd of ancient Britons--but you'll like it."
+
+Mrs. Bethel was unwontedly quiet--it was obvious that she was in
+distress; Mary, too, seemed to speak at random, and there was an air of
+constraint in the room.
+
+When they set off for church the grey sky had changed to blue; the sun
+had just set, and little pink clouds like fairy cushions hung round the
+moon.  As they passed out of the town, through the crooked path down to
+the Cove, Harry had again that strong sense of Cornwall that came to
+him sometimes so suddenly, so strangely, that it was almost mysterious,
+for it seemed to have no immediate cause, no absolute relation to
+surrounding sights or sounds.  Perhaps to-night it was in the misty
+half-light of the shining moon and the dying sun, the curious stillness
+of the air so that the sounds and cries of the town came distinctly on
+the wind, the scent of some wild flowers, the faint smell of the
+chrysanthemums that Mary was wearing at her breast.
+
+"By Jove, it's Cornwall," he said, drawing a great breath.  He was
+walking a little ahead with Mary, and he turned to her as she spoke.
+She was walking with her head bent, and did not seem to hear him.
+"What's up?" he said.
+
+"Nothing," she answered, trying to smile.
+
+"But there is," he insisted.  "I'm not blind.  I've bored you with my
+worries.  You might honour me with yours."
+
+"There isn't anything really.  One's foolish to mind, and, indeed, it's
+not for myself that I care--but it's mother."
+
+"What have they done?"
+
+"They don't like us--none of them do.  I don't know why they should; we
+aren't, perhaps, very likeable.  But it is cruel of them to show it.
+Mother, you see, likes meeting people--we had it in London, friends I
+mean, lots of them, and then when we came here we had none.  We have
+never had any from the beginning.  We tried, perhaps a little too hard,
+to have some.  We gave little parties and they failed, and then people
+began to think us peculiar, and if they once do that here you're done
+for.  Perhaps we didn't see it quite soon enough and we went on trying,
+and then they began to snub us."
+
+"Snub you?"
+
+"Yes, you know the kind of thing.  You saw that first day we met
+you----"
+
+"And it hurts?"
+
+"Yes--for mother.  She still tries; she doesn't see that it's no good,
+and each time that she goes and calls, something happens and she comes
+back like she did to-day.  I don't suppose they mean to be unkind--it
+is only that we are, you see, peculiar, and that doesn't do here.
+Father wears funny clothes and never sees any one, and so they think
+there must be something wrong----"
+
+"It's a shame," he said indignantly.
+
+"No," she answered, "it isn't really.  It's one's own fault--only
+sometimes I hate it all.  Why couldn't we have stayed in London?  We
+had friends there, and father's clothes didn't matter.  Here such
+little things make such a big difference"--which was, Harry reflected,
+a complete epitome of the life of Pendragon.
+
+"I'm not whining," she went on.  "We all have things that we don't
+like, but when you're without a friend----"
+
+"Not quite," he said; "you must count me."  He stopped for a moment.
+"You _will_ count me, won't you?"
+
+"You realise what you are doing," she said.  "You are entering into
+alliance with outcasts."
+
+"You forget," he answered, "that I, also, am an outcast.  We can at
+least be outcasts together."
+
+"It is good of you," she said gravely; "I am selfish enough to accept
+it.  If I was really worth anything, I would never let you see us
+again.  It means ostracism."
+
+"We will fight them," he answered gaily.  "We will storm the camp"; but
+in his heart he knew that their stronghold, with "The Flutes" as the
+heart of the defence, would be hard to overcome.
+
+They climbed up the hill to the little church with the sea roaring at
+their feet.  A strong wind was blowing, and, for a moment, at a steep
+turn of the hill, she laid her hand on his arm; at the touch his heart
+beat furiously--in that moment he knew that he loved her, that he had
+loved her from the first moment that he had seen her, and he passed on
+into the church.
+
+It was, as Bethel had said, almost in ruins--the little nave was
+complete, but ivy clambered in the aisles and birds had built their
+nests in the pillars.  Three misty candles flickered on the altar, and
+some lights burnt over the pulpit, but there were strange half-lights
+and shadows so that it seemed a place of ghosts.  Through the open door
+the night air blew, bringing with it the beating of the sea, and the
+breath of grass and flowers.  The congregation was scanty; some
+fishermen and their wives, two or three old women, and a baby that made
+no sound but listened wonderingly with its finger in its mouth.  The
+clergyman was a tall man with a long white beard and he did everything,
+even playing the little wheezy harmonium.  His sermon was short and
+simple, but was listened to with rapt attention.  There was something
+strangely intense about it all, and the hymns were sung with an
+eagerness that Harry had never heard elsewhere.  This was a contrast
+with the church of the morning, just as the Cove was a contrast with
+Pendragon; the parting of the ways seemed to face Harry at every moment
+of his day--his choice was being urgently demanded and he had no longer
+any hesitation.
+
+Newsome was there, and he spoke to him for a moment on coming out.
+"You'll be lonely 'up-along,'" he said; "you belong to us."
+
+They all four walked back together.
+
+"How do you like our ancient Britons?" said Bethel.
+
+"It was wonderful," said Harry.  "Thank you for taking me."
+
+They were all very silent, but when they parted at the turning of the
+road Bethel laughed.  "Now you are one of us, Trojan.  We have claimed
+you."
+
+As he shook Mary's hand he whispered, "This has been a great evening
+for me."
+
+"I was wrong to grumble to you," she answered.  "You have worries
+enough of your own.  I release you from your pledge."
+
+"I will not be released," he said.
+
+That night Clare Trojan, before going to bed, went into Garrett's room.
+He was working at his book, and, as usual, hinted that to take such
+advantage of his good-nature by her interruption was unfair.
+
+"I suppose to-morrow morning wouldn't do instead, Clare--it's a bit
+late."
+
+"No, it wouldn't--I want you to listen to me.  It's important."
+
+"Well?"  He seated himself in the most comfortable chair and sighed.
+"Don't be too long."
+
+She was excited and stood over him as though she would force him to be
+interested.
+
+"It's too much, Garrett.  It's got to stop."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Harry.  Some one must speak to him."
+
+Garrett smiled.  "That, of course, will be you, Clare--you always do;
+but if it's my permission that you want you may have it and welcome.
+But we've discussed all this before.  What's the new turn of affairs?"
+
+"No.  I want more than your permission; we must take some measures
+together.  It's no good unless we act at once.  Miss Ponsonby told me
+this afternoon--it has become common talk--the things he does, I mean.
+She did not want to say anything, but I made her.  He goes down
+continually to some low public-house in the Cove; he is with those
+Bethels all day, and will see nothing of any of the decent people in
+the place--he is becoming a common byword."
+
+"It is a pity," Garrett said, "that he cannot choose his friends
+better."
+
+"He must--something must be done.  It is not for ourselves only, though
+of course that counts.  But it is the House--our name.  They laugh at
+him, and so at all of us.  Besides, there is Robin."
+
+Garrett looked at his sister curiously--he had never seen her so
+excited before.  But she found it no laughing matter.  Miss Ponsonby
+would not have spoken unless matters had gone pretty far.  The Cove!
+The Bethels!  Robin's father!
+
+For, after all, it was for Robin that she cared.  She felt that she was
+fighting his battles, and so subtly concealed from herself that she
+was, in reality, fighting her own.  She was in a state of miserable
+uncertainty.  She was not sure of her father, she was not sure of
+Robin, scarcely sure of Garrett--everything threatened disaster.
+
+"What will you do?"  Garrett had no desire that the responsibility
+should be shifted in his direction; he feared responsibility as the
+rock on which the ship of his carefully preserved proprieties might
+come to wreck.
+
+"Do?  Why, speak--it must be done.  Think of him during the whole time
+that he has been here--not only to Pendragon, but to us.  He has made
+no attempt whatever to fit in with our ways or thoughts; he has shown
+no desire to understand any of us; and now he must be pulled up, for
+his own sake as well as ours."
+
+But Garrett offered her little assistance.  He had no proposals to
+offer, and was barren of all definite efforts; he hated definite lines
+of any kind, but he promised to fall in with her plans.
+
+"I will come down to breakfast," she said, "and will speak to him
+afterwards."
+
+Garrett nodded wearily and went back to his work.  On the next morning
+the crisis came.
+
+Breakfast was a silent meal at all times.  Harry had learnt to avoid
+the cheerful familiarity of his first morning--it would not do.  But
+the heavy solemnity of the massive silver teapot, the ham and cold game
+on the sideboard, the racks of toast that were so needlessly numerous,
+drove him into himself, and, like his brother and son, he disappeared
+behind folds of newspaper until the meal was over.
+
+Clare frequently came down to breakfast, and therefore he saw nothing
+unusual in her appearance.  The meal was quite silent; Clare had her
+letters--and he was about to rise and leave the room, when she spoke.
+
+"Wait a minute, Harry.  I want to say something.  No, Robin, don't
+go--what I'm going to say concerns us all."
+
+Garrett remained behind his newspaper, which showed that he had
+received previous warning.  Robin looked up in surprise, and then
+quickly at his father, who had moved to the fireplace.
+
+"About me, Clare?"  He tried to speak calmly, but his voice shook a
+little.  He saw that it was a premeditated attack, but he wished that
+Robin hadn't been there.  He was, on the whole, glad that the moment
+had come; the last week had been almost unbearable, and the situation
+was bound to arrive at a crisis--well, here it was, but he wished that
+Robin were not there.  As he looked at the boy for a moment his face
+was white and his breath came sharply.  He had never loved him quite so
+passionately as at that moment when he seemed about to lose him.
+
+Clare had chosen her time and her audience well, and suddenly he felt
+that he hated her; he was immediately calm and awaited her attack
+almost nonchalantly, his hand resting on the mantelpiece, his legs
+crossed.
+
+Clare was still sitting at the table, her face half turned to Harry,
+her glance resting on Robin.  She tapped the table with her letters,
+but otherwise gave no sign of agitation.
+
+"Yes--about you, Harry.  It is only that I think we have reason--almost
+a right--to expect that you should yield a little more thoroughly to
+our wishes.  Both _Garrett_"--this with emphasis--"and myself are sure
+that your failing to do so is only due to a misconception on your part,
+and it is because we are sure that you have only to realise them to
+give way a little to them, that I--we--are speaking."
+
+"I certainly had not realised that I had failed in deference to your
+wishes, Clare."
+
+"No, not failed--and it is absurd to talk of deference.  It is only
+that I feel--we all feel"--this with another glance at Robin--"that it
+is naturally impossible for you to realise exactly what are the things
+required of us here.  Things that would in New Zealand have been of no
+importance at all."
+
+"Such as----?"
+
+"Well, you must remember that we have, as it were, the eyes of all the
+town upon us.  We occupy a position of some importance, and we are
+definitely expected to maintain that position without lack of dignity."
+
+"Won't you come to the point, Clare?  It is a little hard to see----"
+
+"Oh, things are obvious enough--surely, Harry, you must see for
+yourself.  People were ready to give you a warm welcome when you
+returned.  I--we--all of us, were only too glad.  But you repulsed us
+all.  Why, on the very day after your arrival you were extremely--I am
+sorry, but there is no other word--discourteous to the Miss Ponsonbys.
+You have made your friends almost entirely amongst the fisher class, a
+strange thing, surely, for a Trojan to do, and you now, I believe,
+spend your evenings frequently in a low public-house resorted to by
+such persons--at any rate you have spent them neither here nor at the
+Club, the two obvious places.  I am only mentioning these things
+because I think that you may not have seen that such matters--trivial
+as they may seem to you--reflect discredit, not only on yourself, but
+also, indirectly, on all of us."
+
+"You forget, Clare, that I have many old friends down at the Cove.
+They were there when I was a boy.  The people in Pendragon have changed
+very largely, almost entirely.  There is scarcely any one whom I knew
+twenty years ago; it is, I should have thought, quite natural that I
+should go to see my old friends again after so long an absence."
+
+He was trying to speak quietly and calmly.  His heart was beating
+furiously, but he knew that if he once lost control, he would lose,
+too, his position.  But, as he watched them, and saw their cold,
+unmoved attitude his anger rose; he had to keep it down with both hands
+clenched--it was only by remembering Robin that the effort was
+successful.
+
+"Natural to go and see them on your return--of course.  But to return,
+to go continually, no.  I cannot help feeling, Harry, that you have
+been a little selfish.  That you have scarcely seen our side of the
+question.  Things have changed in the last twenty years--changed
+enormously.  We have seen them, studied them, and, I think, understood
+them.  You come back and face them without any preparation; surely you
+cannot expect to understand them quite as we do."
+
+"This seems to me, I must confess, Clare, a great deal of concern about
+a very little matter.  Surely I am not a person of such importance that
+a few visits to the Cove can ruin us socially?"
+
+"Ah! that is what you don't understand!  Little things matter here.
+People watch, and are, I am afraid, only too ready to fasten on matters
+that do not concern them.  Besides, it is not only the Cove--there are
+other things--there are, for instance, the Bethels."
+
+At the name Robin started.  He liked Mary Bethel, had liked her very
+much indeed, but he had known that his aunt disapproved of them and had
+been careful to disguise his meetings.  But the instant thought in his
+mind concerned the Feverels.  If the Bethels were impossible socially,
+what about Dahlia and her mother?  What would his aunt say if she knew
+of that little affair?  And the question which had attacked him acutely
+during the last week in various forms hurt him now like a knife.
+
+He watched his father curiously.  He did not look as if he cared very
+greatly.  Of course Aunt Clare was perfectly right.  He had been
+selfishly indifferent, had cared nothing for their feelings.  Randal
+had shown plainly enough how impossible he was.  Indeed the shadow of
+Randal lurked in the room in a manner that would have pleased that
+young gentleman intensely had he known it.  Clare had it continually
+before her, urging her, advising her, commanding her.
+
+At the mention of the Bethels, Harry looked up sharply.
+
+"I think we had better leave them out of the discussion."  His voice
+trembled a little.
+
+"Why?  Are they so much to you?  They have, however, a good deal to do
+with my argument.  Do you think it was wise to neglect the whole of
+Pendragon for the society of the Bethels--people of whom one is an
+idler and loafer and the other a lunatic?"  Clare was becoming excited.
+
+"You forget, Clare, that I first met them in your drawing-room."
+
+"They were there entirely against my will.  I showed them that quite
+distinctly at the time.  They will not come again."
+
+"That may be.  But they are, as you have said, my friends.  I cannot,
+therefore, hear them insulted.  They must be left out of the
+discussion."
+
+On any other matter he could have heard her quietly, but the Bethels
+she must leave alone.  He could see Mary, as he spoke, turning on the
+hill and laying her hand on his arm; her hair blew in the wind and the
+light in her eyes shone under the moon.  He had for a moment forgotten
+Robin.
+
+"At any rate, I have made my meaning clear.  We wish you--out of regard
+for us, if for no other reason--to be a little more careful both of
+your company and of your statements.  It is hard for you to see the
+position quite as we do, I know, but I cannot say that you have made
+any attempt whatsoever to see it with our eyes.  It seems useless to
+appeal to you on behalf of the House, but that, too, is worth some
+consideration.  We have been here for many hundreds of years; we should
+continue in the paths that our ancestors have marked out.  I am only
+saying what you yourself feel, Garrett?"
+
+"Absolutely."  Garrett looked up from his paper.  "I think you must
+see, Harry, that we are quite justified in our demands--Clare has put
+it quite plainly."
+
+"Quite," said Harry.  "And you, Robin?"
+
+"I think that Aunt Clare is perfectly right," answered Robin coldly.
+
+Harry's face was very white.  He spoke rapidly and his hand gripped the
+marble of the mantelpiece; he did not want them to see that his legs
+were trembling.
+
+"Yes.  I am glad to know exactly where we stand.  It is better for all
+of us.  I might have taken it submissively, Clare, had you left out
+your last count against me.  That was unworthy of you.  But haven't
+you, perhaps, seen just a little too completely your own point of view
+and omitted mine?  I came back a stranger.  I was ready to do anything
+to win your regard.  I was perhaps a little foolishly sentimental about
+it, but I am a very easy person to understand--it could not have been
+very difficult.  I imagined, foolishly, that things would be quite
+easy--that there would be no complications.  I soon found that I had
+made a mistake; you have taught me more during the last fortnight than
+I had ever learnt in all my twenty years abroad.  I have learnt that to
+expect affection from your own relations, even from your son, is
+absurd--affection is bad form; that, of course, was rather a shock.
+
+"You have had, all of you, your innings during the last fortnight.  You
+have decided, with your friends, that I am impossible, and from that
+moment you have deliberately cut me.  You have driven me to find
+friends of my own and then you have complained of the friends that I
+have chosen.  That is completed--in a fortnight you have shown me,
+quite plainly, your position.  Now I will show you mine.  You have
+refused to have anything to do with me--for the future the position
+shall be reversed.  I shall alter in no respect whatever, either my
+friendships or my habits.  I shall go where I please, do what I please,
+see whom I please.  We shall, of course, disguise our position from the
+world.  I have learnt that disguise is a very important part of one's
+education.  Our former relations from this moment cease entirely."
+
+He was speaking apparently calmly, but his anger was at white-heat.
+All the veiled insults and disappointments of the last fortnight rose
+before him, but, above all, he saw Mary as though he were defending
+her, there, in the room.  He would never forgive them.
+
+Clare was surprised, but she did not show it.  She got up from the
+table and walked to the door.  "Very well, Harry," she said, "I think
+you will regret it."
+
+Garrett rose too, his hand trembling a little as he folded his
+newspaper.
+
+"That is, I suppose, an ultimatum," he said.  "It is a piece of
+insolence that I shall not forget."
+
+Robin was turning to leave the room.  Harry suddenly saw him.  He had
+forgotten him; he had thought only of Mary.
+
+"Robin," he whispered, stepping towards him.  "Robin--you don't think
+as they do?"
+
+"I agree with my aunt," he said, and he left the room, closing the door
+quietly behind him.
+
+Harry's defiance had left him.  For a moment the only thing that he saw
+clearly in a world that had suddenly grown dark and cold was his son.
+He had forgotten the rest--his sister, Mary, Pendragon--it all seemed
+to matter nothing.
+
+He had come from New Zealand to love his son--for nothing else.
+
+He had an impulse to run after him, to seize him, and hold him, and
+force him to come back.
+
+Then he remembered--his pride stung him.  He would fight it out to the
+end; he would, as his father said, "show them a stiff back."
+
+He was very white, and for a moment he had to steady himself by the
+table.  The silver teapot, the ham, the racks of toast were all
+there--how strange, when the rest of the world had changed; he was
+quite alone now--he must remember that--he had no son.  And he, too,
+went out, closing the door quietly behind him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+Some letters during this week:--
+
+
+23 SOUTHWICK CRESCENT, W.,
+  _October_ 10, 1906.
+
+My dear Robin--I should have written before, I am ashamed of my
+omission, but my approaching departure abroad has thrown a great many
+things on my hands; I have a paper to finish for Clarkson and an essay
+for the _New Review_, and letter-writing has been at a standstill.  It
+was delightful--that little peep of you that I got--and it only made me
+regret the more that it is impossible to see much of you nowadays.  I
+cannot help feeling that there is a danger of vegetation if one limits
+oneself too completely to a provincial life, and, charming though
+Cornwall is, its very fascination causes one to forget the importance
+of the outer world.  I fancied that I discerned signs that you yourself
+felt this confinement and wished for something broader.  Well, why not
+have it?  I confess that I see no reason.  Come up to London for a
+time--go abroad--your beloved Germany is waiting for you, and a year at
+one of the Universities would be both amusing and instructive.  These
+are only suggestions; I should hesitate to offer them at all were it
+not that there has always been such sympathy between us that I know you
+will not resent them.  Of course, the arrival of your father has made
+considerable difference.  I must say, honestly, that I regretted to see
+that you had not more in common.  The fault, I expect, has been on both
+sides; as I said to you before, it has been hard for him to realise
+exactly what it is that we consider important.  We--quite mistakenly
+possibly--have come to feel that certain things, art, literature,
+music, are absolutely essential to us, morally and physically.
+
+They are nothing at all to him, and I can quite understand that you
+have found it difficult--almost impossible--to grasp his standpoint.  I
+must confess that he did not seem to me to attempt to consider yours;
+but it is easy, and indeed impertinent, to criticise, and I hope that,
+on the next occasion of your writing, I shall hear that things are
+going smoothly and that the first inevitable awkwardnesses have worn
+off.
+
+I must stop.  I have let my pen wander away with me.  But do consider
+what I said about coming up to town; I am sure that it is bad for you
+in every way--this burial.  Think of your friends, old chap, and let
+them see something of you.--Yours ever,
+
+LANCELOT RANDAL.
+
+
+
+"THE FLUTES," PENDRAGON,
+  _October_ 12, 1906.
+
+My dear Lance--Thanks very much for your letter.  This mustn't pretend
+to be anything of a letter.  I have a thousand things to do, and no
+time to do them.  It was very delightful seeing you, and I, too, was
+extremely sorry we could not see more of you.  My aunt enjoyed your
+visit enormously, and told me to remind you that you are expected here,
+for a long stay, on your return from Germany.
+
+Yes, I was worried and am still.  There are various things--"it never
+rains but it pours"--but I cannot feel that they are in the least due
+to my vegetating.  I haven't the least intention of sticking here, but
+my grandfather is, as you know, very ill, and it is impossible for me
+to get away at present.
+
+Resent what you said!  Why, no, of course not.  We are too good friends
+for resentment, and I am only too grateful for your advice.  The
+situation here at this moment is peculiarly Meredithian--and, although
+one ought perhaps to be silent concerning it, I know that I can trust
+you absolutely and I need your advice badly.  Besides, I must speak to
+some one about it; I have been thinking it over all day and am quite at
+a loss.  There was battle royal this morning after breakfast, and my
+father was extremely rude to my aunt, acting apparently from quite
+selfish motives.  I want to look at it fairly, but I can, honestly, see
+it in no other light.  My aunt accused him of indifference with regard
+to the family good name.  She, quite rightly, I think, pointed out that
+his behaviour from first to last had been the reverse of courteous to
+herself and her friends, and she suggested that he had, perhaps,
+scarcely realised the importance of maintaining the family dignity in
+the eyes of Pendragon.  You remember his continual absences and the
+queer friendships that he formed.  She suggested that he should modify
+these, and take a little more interest in the circle to which we,
+ourselves, belong.  Surely there is nothing objectionable in all this;
+indeed, I should have thought that he would have been grateful for her
+advice.  But no--he fired up in the most absurd manner, accused us of
+unfairness and prejudice, declared his intention of going his own way,
+and gave us all his congé.  In fact, he was extremely rude to my aunt,
+and I cannot forgive him for some of the things that he said.  His
+attitude has been absurd from the first, and I cannot see that we could
+have acted otherwise, but the situation is now peculiar, and what will
+come of it I don't know.  I must dress for dinner--I am curious to see
+whether he will appear--he was out for lunch.  Let me have a line if
+you have a spare moment.  I scarcely know how to act.--Yours,
+
+ROBERT TROJAN.
+
+
+
+23 SOUTHWICK CRESCENT, W.,
+  _October_ 14, 1906.
+
+Dear Robin--In furious haste, am just off and have really no time for
+anything.  I am more sorry than I can say to hear your news.  I must
+confess that I had feared something of the kind; matters seemed working
+to a climax when I was with you.  As to advice, it is almost
+impossible; I really don't know what to say, it is so hard for me to
+judge of all the circumstances.  But it seems to me that your father
+can have had no warrant for the course that he took.  One is naturally
+chary of delivering judgment in such a case, but it was, obviously, his
+duty to adapt himself to his environment.  He cannot blame you for
+reminding him of that fact.  Out of loyalty to your aunt, I do not see
+that you can do anything until he has apologised.  But I will think of
+the matter further, and will write to you from abroad.--In great haste,
+your friend, LANCELOT RANDAL.
+
+
+
+"THE FLUTES," PENDRAGON, CORNWALL,
+  _October_ 13, 1906.
+
+Dear Miss Feverel--I must apologise for forcing you to realise once
+more my existence.  Any reminder must necessarily be painful after our
+last meeting, but I am writing this to request the return of all other
+reminders of our acquaintance that you may happen to possess; I enclose
+the locket, the ring, your letters, and the tie that you worked.  We
+discussed this matter the other day, but I cannot believe that you will
+still hold to a determination that can serve no purpose, except perhaps
+to embitter feelings on both sides.  From what I have known of you I
+cannot believe that you are indulging motives of revenge--but,
+otherwise, I must confess that I am at a loss.--Expecting to receive
+the letters by return, I am, yours truly,
+
+ROBERT TROJAN.
+
+
+
+9 SEA VIEW TERRACE, PENDRAGON, CORNWALL,
+  _October_ 14, 1906.
+
+Dear Mr. Trojan--Thank you for the locket, the ring, and the letters
+which I have received.  I regret that I must decline to part with the
+letters; surely it is not strange that I should wish to keep
+them.--Yours truly, DAHLIA FEVEREL.
+
+
+
+"THE FLUTES,"
+  _October_ 15, 1906.
+
+What do you mean?  You have no right to them.  They are mine.  I wrote
+them.  You serve no purpose by keeping them.  Please return them at
+once--by return.  I have done nothing to deserve this.  Unless you
+return them, I shall know that you are merely an intriguing--; no, I
+don't mean that.  Please send them back.  Suppose they should be
+seen?--In haste, R. T.
+
+
+
+9 SEA VIEW TERRACE, PENDRAGON, CORNWALL,
+  _October_ 15, 1906.
+
+My decision is unalterable.
+
+D. F.
+
+
+
+But Dahlia sat in the dreary little drawing-room watching the grey sea
+with a white face and hard, staring eyes.
+
+She had sat there all day.  She thought that soon she would go mad.
+She had not slept since her last meeting with Robin; she had scarcely
+eaten--she was too tired to think.
+
+The days had been interminable.  At first she had waited, expecting
+that he would come back.  A hundred impulses had been at work.  At
+first she had thought that she would go and tell him that she had not
+meant what she said; she would persuade him to come back, She would
+offer him the letters and tell him that she had meant nothing--they had
+been idle words.  But then she remembered some of the things that he
+had said, some of the stones that he had flung.  She was not good
+enough for him or his family; she had no right to expect that an
+alliance was ever possible.  His family despised her.  And then her
+thoughts turned from Robin to his family.  She had seen Clare often
+enough and had always disliked her.  But now she hated her so that she
+could have gladly killed her.  It was at her door that she laid all the
+change in Robin and her own misery.  She felt that she would do
+anything in the world to cause her pain.  She brooded over it in the
+shabby little room with her face turned to the sea.  How could she hurt
+her?  There were the others, too--the rest of the family--all except
+Robin's father, who was, she felt instinctively, different.  She
+thought that he would not have acted in that way.  And then her
+thoughts turned back to Robin, and for a moment she fancied that she
+hated him, and then she knew that she still loved him--and she stared
+at the grey sea with misery in her heart and a dull, sombre confusion
+in her brain.  No, she did not hate Robin, she did not really want to
+hurt him.  How could she, when they had had those wonderful months
+together?  Those months that seemed such centuries and centuries away.
+But, nevertheless, she kept the letters.  Her mother had talked about
+them, had advised her to keep them.  She did not mean to do anything
+very definite with them--she could not look ahead very far--but she
+would keep them for a little.
+
+When she had seen Robin's handwriting again it had been almost more
+than she could bear.  For some time she had been unable to tear open
+the envelope and speculated, confusedly, on the contents.  Perhaps he
+had repented.  She judged him by her own days and nights of utter
+misery and knew that, had it been herself, they would have driven her
+back crying to his feet.  Perhaps it was to ask for another interview.
+That she would refuse.  She felt that she could not endure another such
+meeting as their last; if he were to come to her without warning, to
+surprise her suddenly--her heart beat furiously at the thought; but the
+deliberate meeting merely for the purpose of his own advantage--no!
+
+She opened the letter, read the cold lines, and knew that it was
+utterly the end.  She had fancied, at their last meeting, that her
+love, like a bird shot through the heart, had fallen at his feet, dead;
+then, after those days of his absence, his figure had grown in her
+sight, glorified, resplendent, and love had revived again--now, with
+this letter she knew that it was over.  She did not cry, she scarcely
+moved.  She watched the sea, with the letter on her lap, and felt that
+a new Dahlia Feverel, a woman who would traffic no longer with
+sentiment, who knew the world for what it was--a hard, merciless prison
+with fiends for its gaolers--had sprung to birth.
+
+She replied to him and showed her mother her answer.  She scarcely
+listened to Mrs. Feverel's comments and went about her daily affairs,
+quietly, without confusion.  She saw herself and Robin like figures in
+a play--she applauded the comedy and the tragedy left her unmoved.
+Robin Trojan had much to answer for.
+
+He read her second letter with dismay.  He had spent the day in
+solitary confinement in his room, turning the situation round and round
+in his mind, lost in a perfect labyrinth of suggested remedies, none of
+which afforded him any outlet.  The thought of exposure was horrible;
+anything must be done to avoid that--disgrace to himself was bad
+enough; to be held up for laughter before his Cambridge friends,
+Randal, his London acquaintances--but disgrace to the family!  That was
+the awful thing!
+
+From his cradle this creed of the family had been taught him; he had
+learnt it so thoroughly that he had grown to test everything by that
+standard; it was his father's disloyalty to that creed that had roused
+the son's anger--and now, behold, the son was sinning more than the
+father!  It was truly ironic that, three days after his attacking a
+member of the family for betraying the family, he himself should be
+guilty of far greater betrayal!  How topsy-turvy the world seemed, and
+what was to be done?
+
+The brevity and conciseness of Dahlia's last letter left him in no
+doubt as to her intentions.  Breach of Promise!  The letters would be
+read in court, would be printed in the newspapers for all the world to
+see.  With youth's easy grasping of eternity, it seemed to him that his
+disgrace would be for ever.  Beddoes' "Death's Jest-book" was lying
+open on his knee.  Wolfram's song--
+
+  Old Adam, the carrion crow,
+      The old crow of Cairo;
+  He sat in the shower, and let it flow
+    Under his tail and over his crest;
+        And through every feather
+        Leaked the wet weather;
+  And the bough swung under his nest;
+  For his beak it was heavy with marrow.
+    Is that the wind dying?  Oh no;
+  It's only two devils, that blow
+  Through a murderer's bones, to and fro,
+      In the ghost's moonshine--
+
+had always seemed to him the most madly sinister verse in English
+literature.  It had been read to him by Randal at Cambridge and had had
+a curious fascination for him from the first.  He had found that the
+little bookseller at Worms had known it and had indeed claimed Beddoes
+for a German--now it seemed to warn him vaguely of impending disaster.
+
+He did not see that he himself could act any further in the matter; she
+would not see him and writing was useless.  And yet to leave the matter
+uncertain, waiting for the blow to fall, with no knowledge of the
+movements in the other camp, was not to be thought of.  He must do
+something.
+
+The moment had arrived when advice must be taken--but from whom?  His
+father was out of the question.  It was three days since the explosion,
+and there was an armed truce.  He had, in spite of himself, admired his
+father's conduct during the last three days, and he was surprised to
+find that it was his aunt and uncle rather than his father who had
+failed to carry off the situation.  He refused as yet to admit it to
+himself, but the three of them, his aunt, his uncle, and himself, had
+seemed almost frightened.  His father was another person; stern, cold,
+unfailingly polite, suddenly apparently possessed of those little
+courtesies in which he had seemed before so singularly lacking.  There
+had been conversation of a kind at meals, and it had always been his
+father who had filled awkward pauses and avoided difficult moments.
+The knowledge, too, that his father would, in a few months' time, be
+head of the house, was borne in upon him with new force; it might be
+unpleasant, but it would not, as he had formerly fancied, be ludicrous.
+A sign of his changed attitude was the fact that he rather resented
+Randal's letter and wished a little that he had not taken him into his
+confidence.
+
+Nevertheless, to ask advice of his father was impossible.  He must
+speak to his uncle and aunt.  How hard this would be only he himself
+knew.  He had never in their eyes failed, in any degree, towards the
+family honour.  From whatever side the House might be attacked, it
+would not be through him.  There was nothing in his past life, they
+thought, at which they would not care to look.
+
+He realised, too, Clare's love for him.  He had known from very early
+days that he counted for everything in her life; that her faith in the
+family centred in his own honour and that her hopes for the family were
+founded completely in his own progress--and now he must tell her this.
+
+He could not, he knew, have chosen a more unfortunate time.  The House
+had already been threatened by the conduct of the father; it was now to
+totter under blows dealt by the son.  The first crisis had been severe,
+this would be infinitely more so.  He hated himself for the first time
+in his life, and, in doing so, began for the first time to realise
+himself a little.
+
+Well, he must speak to them and ask them what was to be done, and the
+sooner it was over the better.  He put the Beddoes back into the shelf,
+and went to the windows.  It was already dark; light twinkled in the
+bay, and a line of white breakers flashed and vanished, keeping time,
+it seemed, with the changing gleam of the lighthouse far out to sea.
+His own room was dark, save for the glow of the fire.  They would be at
+tea; probably his father would not be there--the present would be a
+good time to choose.  He pulled his courage together and went
+downstairs.
+
+As he had expected, Garrett was having tea with Clare in her own
+room--the Castle of Intimacy, as Randal had once called it.  Garrett
+was reading; Clare was sitting by the fire, thinking.
+
+"She will soon have more to think about," thought Robin wretchedly.
+
+She looked up as he came in.  "Ah, Robin, that's splendid!  I was just
+going to send up for you.  Come and sit here and talk to me.  I've
+hardly seen you to-day."
+
+She had been very affectionate during the last three days--rather too
+affectionate, Robin thought.  He liked her better when she was less
+demonstrative.
+
+"Where have you been all the afternoon?"
+
+"In my room.  I've been busy."
+
+"Tea?  You don't mind it strong, do you, because it's been here a good
+long time?  Gingerbread cake especially for you."
+
+But gingerbread cake wasn't in the least attractive.  Beddoes suited
+him much better:--
+
+    Is that the wind dying?  Oh no;
+  It's only two devils, that blow
+  Through a murderer's bones, to and fro,
+    In the ghost's moonshine.
+
+
+"Do you know Beddoes, aunt?"
+
+"No, dear.  What kind of thing is it?  Poetry?"
+
+"Yes.  You wouldn't like it, though----only I've been reading him this
+afternoon.  He suited my mood."
+
+"Boys of your age shouldn't have moods."  This from Garrett.  "I never
+had."
+
+Robin took his tea without answering, and sat down on the opposite side
+of the fire to his aunt.  How was he to begin?  What was he to say?
+There followed an awful pause--life seemed to have been full of pauses
+lately.
+
+Clare was watching him anxiously.  How had his father's outbreak
+affected him?  She was afraid, from little things that she had seen,
+that he had been influenced.  Harry had been so different those last
+three days--she could not understand it.  She watched him eagerly,
+hungrily.  Why was he not still the baby that she could take on her
+knees and kiss and sentimentalise over?  He, too, she fancied, had been
+different during these last days.
+
+"More tea, Robin?  You'd better--it's a long while before dinner."
+
+"No, thanks, aunt.  I--that is--well, I've something I wanted to say."
+
+He turned round in his chair and faced the fire.  He would rather not
+look at her whilst he was speaking.  Garrett put down his book and
+looked up.  Was there going to be more worry?  What had happened lately
+to the world?  It seemed to have lost all proper respect for the Trojan
+position.  He could not understand it.  Clare drew her breath sharply.
+Her fears thronged about her, like shadows in the firelight--what was
+it? ...  Was it Harry?
+
+"What about, Robin?  Is anything the matter?"
+
+"Why, no--nothing really--it's only--that is--Oh, dash it all--it's
+awfully difficult."
+
+There was another silence.  The ticking of the clock drove Robin into
+further speech.
+
+"Well--I've made a bit of a mess.  I've been rather a fool and I want
+your advice."
+
+Another pause, but no assistance save a cold "Well?" from Garrett.
+
+"You see it was at Cambridge, last summer.  I was an awful fool, I
+know, but I really didn't know how far it was going until--well, until
+afterwards----"
+
+"Until--after what?" said Garrett.  "Would you mind being a little
+clearer, Robin?"
+
+"Well, it was a girl."  Robin stopped.  It sounded so horrible, spoken
+like that in cold blood.  He did not dare to look at his aunt, but he
+wondered what her face was like.  He pulled desperately at his tie, and
+hurried on.  "Nothing very bad, you know.  I meant, at first, anyhow--I
+met her at another man's--Grant of Clare--quite a good chap, and he
+gave a picnic--canaders and things up the river.  We had a jolly
+afternoon and she seemed awfully nice and--her mother wasn't there.
+Then--after that--I saw a lot of her.  Every one does at Cambridge--I
+mean see girls and all that kind of thing--and I didn't think anything
+of it--and she really _seemed_ awfully nice then.  There isn't much to
+do at Cambridge, except that sort of thing--really.  Then, after term,
+I came down here, and I began to write.  I'm afraid I was a bit silly,
+but I didn't know it then, and I used to write her letters pretty
+often, and she answered them.  And--well, you know the sort of thing,
+Uncle Garrett--I thought I loved her----"
+
+At this climax, Robin came to a pause, and hoped that they would help
+him, but they said no word until, at last, Garrett said impatiently,
+"Go on."
+
+"Well," continued Robin desperately, "that's really all--" knowing,
+however, that he had not yet arrived at the point of the story.
+"She--and her mother--came down to live here--and then, somehow, I
+didn't like her quite so much.  It seemed different down here, and her
+mother was horrid.  I began to see it differently, and at last, one
+night, I told her so.  Of course, I thought, naturally, that she would
+understand.  But she didn't--her mother was horrid--and she made a
+scene--it was all very unpleasant."  Robin was dragging his
+handkerchief between his fingers, and looking imploringly at the fire.
+"Then I went and saw her again and asked her for--my letters--she said
+she'd keep them--and I'm afraid she may use them--and--well, that's
+all," he finished lamely.
+
+He thought that hours of terrible silence followed his speech.  He sat
+motionless in his chair waiting for their words.  He was rather glad
+now that he had spoken.  It had been a relief to unburden himself; for
+so many days he had only had his own thoughts and suggestions to apply
+to the situation.  But he was afraid to look at his aunt.
+
+"You young fool," at last from Garrett.  "Who is the girl?"
+
+"A Miss Feverel--she lives with her mother at Sea view Terrace--there
+is no father."
+
+"Miss Feverel?  What!  That girl!  You wrote to her!  You----"
+
+At last his aunt had spoken.  He had never heard her speak like that
+before--the "You!" was a cry of horror.  She suddenly got up and went
+over to him.  She bent over him where he sat, with head lowered, and
+shook him by the shoulder.
+
+"Robin!  It can't be true--you haven't written to that girl!  Not
+love-letters!  It is incredible!"
+
+"It is true--" he said, looking up.  "Don't look at me like that, Aunt
+Clare.  It isn't so bad--other fellows----" but then he was ashamed and
+stopped.  He would leave his defence alone.
+
+"Is that all?" said Garrett.  "All you have done, I mean?  You haven't
+injured the girl?"
+
+"I swear that's all," Robin said eagerly.  "I meant no harm by it.  I
+wrote the letters without thinking I----"
+
+Clare stood leaning on the mantelpiece, her head between her hands.
+
+"I can't understand it.  I can't understand it," she said.  "It isn't
+like you--not a bit.  That girl and you--why, it's incredible!"
+
+"That's only because you had your fancy idea of him, Clare," said
+Garrett.  "We'd better pass the lamentation stage and decide what's to
+be done."
+
+For once Garrett seemed practical; he was pleased with himself for
+being so.  It had suddenly occurred to him that he was the only person
+who could really deal with the situation.  Clare was a woman, Harry was
+out of the question, Robin was a boy.
+
+"Have you spoken to your father?" he asked.
+
+"No.  Of course not!" Robin answered, rather fiercely.  "How could I?"
+
+Clare went back to her chair.  "That girl!  But, Robin, she's
+plain--quite--and her manners, her mother--everything impossible!"
+
+It was still incredible that Robin, the work of her hands as it were,
+into whom she had poured all things that were lovely and of good
+report, could have made love to an ordinary girl of the middle
+classes--a vulgar girl with a still more vulgar mother.
+
+But in spite of her vulgarity she was jealous of her.  "You don't care
+for her any longer, Robin?"
+
+"Now?--oh no--not for a long time--I don't think I ever did really.  I
+can't think how I was ever such a fool."
+
+"She still threatens Breach of Promise," said Garrett, whose mind was
+slowly working as to the best means of proving his practical utility.
+"That's the point, of course.  That the letters are there and that we
+have got to get them back.  What kind of letters were they?  Did you
+actually give her hopes?"
+
+Robin blushed.  "Yes, I'm afraid I did--as well as I can remember, and
+judging by her answers.  I said the usual sort of things----"  He
+paused.  It was best, he felt, to leave it vague.
+
+But Clare had scarcely arrived at the danger of it yet--the danger to
+the House.  Her present thought was of Robin; that she must alter her
+feelings about him, take him from his pedestal--a Trojan who could make
+love to any kind of girl!
+
+"I can't think of it now," she said; "it's confusing.  We must see
+what's to be done.  We'll talk about it some other time.  It's hard to
+see just at present."
+
+Garrett looked puzzled.  "It's a bit of a mess," he said.  "But we'll
+see----" and left the room with an air of importance.
+
+Robin turned to go, and then walked over to his aunt, and put his hand
+on her sleeve.
+
+"Don't think me such a rotter," he said.  "I am awfully sorry--it's
+about you that I care most--but I've learnt a lesson; I'll never do
+anything like that again."
+
+She smiled up at him, and took his hand in hers.
+
+"Why, old boy, no.  Of course I was a little surprised.  But I don't
+mind very much if you care for me in the same way.  That's all I have,
+Robin--your caring; and I don't think it matters very much what you do,
+if I still have that."
+
+"Of course you have," he said, and bent down and kissed her.  Then he
+left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+"I'm worse to-day," said Sir Jeremy, looking at Harry, "and I'll be off
+under a month."
+
+He seemed rather pathetic--the brave look had gone from his eyes, and
+his face and hands were more shrivelled than ever.  He gave the
+impression of cowering in bed as though wishing to avoid a blow.  Harry
+was with him continually now, and the old man was never happy if his
+son was not there.  He rambled at times and fancied himself back in his
+youth again.  Harry had found his father's room a refuge from the
+family, and he sat, hour after hour, watching the old man asleep,
+thinking of his own succession and puzzling over the hopeless tangle
+that seemed to surround him.  How to get out of it!  He had no longer
+any thought of turning his back; he had gone too far for that, and they
+would think it cowardice, but things couldn't remain as they were.
+What would come out of it?
+
+He had, as Robin had said, changed.  The effect of the explosion had
+been to reveal in him qualities whose very existence he had formerly
+never expected.  He even found, strangely enough, a kind of joy in the
+affair.  It was like playing a game.  He had made, he felt, the right
+move and was in the stronger position.  In earlier days he had never
+been able to quarrel with any one.  Whenever such a thing had happened,
+he had been the first to make overtures; he hated the idea of an enemy,
+his happiness depended on his friends, and sometimes now, when he saw
+his own people's hostility, he was near surrender.  But the memory of
+his sister's words had held him firm, and now he was beginning to feel
+in tune with the situation.
+
+He watched Robin furtively at times and wondered how he was taking it
+all.  Sometimes he fancied that he caught glances that pointed to
+Robin's own desire to see how _he_ was taking it.  Once they had passed
+on the stairs, and for a moment they had both paused as though they
+would speak.  It had been all Harry could do to restrain himself from
+flinging his arms on to his son's shoulders and shaking him for a fool
+and then forcing him into surrender, but he had held himself back, and
+they had passed on without a word.
+
+After all, what children they all were!  That's what it came
+to--children playing a game that they did not understand!
+
+"I wish it would end," said Sir Jeremy; "I'm getting damned sick of it.
+Why can't he take you out straight away, and be done with it?  Do you
+know, Harry, my boy, I think I'm frightened.  It's lying here thinking
+of it.  I never had much imagination--it isn't a Trojan habit, but it
+grows on one.  I fancy--well, what's the use o' talking?" and he sank
+back into his pillows again.
+
+The room was dark save for the leaping light of the fire.  It was
+almost time to dress for dinner, but Harry sat there, forgetting time
+and place in the unchanging question, How would it all work out?
+
+"By Gad, it's Tom!  Hullo, old man, I was just thinking of you.  Comin'
+round to Horrocks' to-night for a game?  Supper at Galiani's--but it's
+damned cold.  I don't know where that sun's got to.  I've been
+wandering up and down the street all day and I can't find the place.
+I've forgotten the number--I can't remember whether it was 23 or 33,
+and I keep getting into that passage.  There I am again!  Bring a
+light, old man--it's so dark.  What's that?  Who's there?  Can't you
+answer?  Darn you, come out, you----"  He sat up in bed, quivering all
+over.  Harry put his hand on his arm.
+
+"It's all right, father," he said.  "No one's here--only myself."
+
+"Ugh!  I was dreaming--" he answered, lying down again.  "Let's have
+some light--not that electric glare.  Candles!"
+
+Harry was sitting in the corner by the bed away from the fire.  He was
+about to rise and move the candles into a clump on the mantelpiece when
+there was a tap on the door and some one came in.  It was Robin.
+
+"Grandfather, are you awake?  Aunt Clare told me to look in on my way
+up to dress and see if you wanted anything?"
+
+The firelight was on his face.  He looked very young as he stood there
+by the bed.  His face was flushed in the light of the fire.  Harry's
+heart beat furiously, but he made no movement and said no word.
+
+Robin bent over the bed to catch his grandfather's answer, and he saw
+his father.
+
+"I beg your pardon."  he stammered.  "I didn't know----"  He waited for
+a moment as though he were going to say something, or expected his
+father to speak.  Then he turned and left the room.
+
+"Let's have the candles," said Sir Jeremy, as though he had not noticed
+the interruption, and Harry lit them.
+
+The old man sank off to sleep again, and Harry fell back into his own
+gloomy thoughts once more.  They were always meeting like that, and on
+each occasion there was need for the same severe self-control.  He had
+to remind himself continually of their treatment of him, of Robin's
+coldness and reserve.  At times he cursed himself for a fool, and then
+again it seemed the only way out of the labyrinth.
+
+His love for his son had changed its character.  He had no longer that
+desire for equality of which he had made, at first, so much.  No, the
+two generations could never see in line; he must not expect that.  But
+he thought of Robin as a boy--as a boy who had made blunders and would
+make others again, and would at last turn to his father as the only
+person who could help him.  He had fancied once or twice that he had
+already begun to turn.
+
+Well, he would be there if Robin wanted him.  He had decided to speak
+to Mary about it.  Her clear common-sense point of view seemed to
+drive, like the sun, through the mists of his obscurity; she always saw
+straight through things--never round them--and her practical mind
+arrived at a quicker solution than was possible for his rather
+romantic, quixotic sentiment.
+
+"You are too fond of discerning pleasant motives," she had once said to
+him.  "I daresay they are all right, but it takes such a time to see
+them."
+
+He had not seen her since the outbreak, and he was rather anxious as to
+her opinion; but the main thing was to be with her.  Since last Sunday
+he had been, he confessed to himself, absurd.  He had behaved more in
+the manner of a boy of nineteen than a middle-aged widower of
+forty-five.  He had been suddenly afraid of the Bethels--going to tea
+had seemed such an obvious advance on his part that he had shrunk from
+it, and he had even avoided Bethel lest that gentleman should imagine
+that he was on the edge of a proposal for his daughter's hand.  He
+thought that all the world must know of it, and he blushed like a girl
+at the thought of its being laid bare for Pendragon to laugh and gibe
+it.  It was so precious, so wonderful, that he kept it, like a rich
+piece of jewellery, deep in a secret drawer, over which he watched
+delightedly, almost humorously, secure in the delicious knowledge that
+he alone had the key.  He wandered out at night, like a foolish
+schoolboy, to watch the lamp in her room--that dull circle of golden
+light against the blind seemed to draw him with it into the intimacy
+and security of her room.
+
+On one of his solitary afternoon walks he suddenly came upon her.  He
+had gone, as he so often did, over the moor to the Four Stones; he
+chose that place partly because of the Stones themselves and partly
+because of the wonderful view.  It seemed to him that the whole heart
+of Cornwall--its mystery, its eternal sameness, its rejection of
+everything that was modern and ephemeral, the pathos of old deserted
+altars and past gods searching for their old-time worshippers--was
+centred there.
+
+The Stones themselves stood on the hill, against the sky, gaunt, grey,
+menacing, a landmark for all the country-side.  The moor ran here into
+a valley between two lines of hill, a cup bounded on three sides by the
+hills and on the fourth by the sea.  In the spring it flamed, a bowl of
+fire, with the gorse; now it stood grim and naked to all the winds,
+blue in the distant hills, a deep red to the right, where the plough
+had been, brown and grey on the moor itself running down to the sea.
+
+It was full of deserted things, as is ever the way with the true
+Cornwall.  On the hill were the Stones sharp against the sky-line;
+lower down, in a bend of the valley, stood the ruins of a mine, the
+shaft and chimney, desolately solitary, looking like the pillars of
+some ancient temple that had been fashioned by uncouth worshippers.  In
+the valley itself stood the stones of what was once a chapel--built,
+perhaps, for the men of the desolate mine, inhabited now by rabbits and
+birds, its windows spaces where the winds that swept the moor could
+play their eternal, restless games.
+
+On a day of clouds there was no colour on the moor, but when the sun
+was out great bands of light swept its surface, playing on the Stones
+and changing them to marble, striking colour from the mine and filling
+the chapel with gold.  But the sun did not reach that valley on many
+days when the rest of the world was alight--it was as if it respected
+the loneliness of its monuments and the pathos of them.
+
+Harry sat on the side of the hill, below the Stones, and watched the
+sea.  At times a mist came and hid it; on sunny days, when the sky was
+intensely blue, there hung a dazzling haze like a golden veil and he
+could only tell that the sea was there by the sudden gleam of tiny
+white horses, flashing for a moment on the mirror of blue and shining
+through the haze; sometimes a gull swerved through the air above his
+head as though a wave had lost its bounds and, for sheer joy of the
+beautiful day, had flung itself tossing and wheeling into the air.
+
+But to-day was a day of wind and rapidly sailing clouds, and myriads of
+white horses curved and tossed and vanished over the shifting colours
+of the sea; there were wonderful shadows of dark blue and purple and
+green of such depth that they seemed unfathomable.
+
+Suddenly he saw Mary coming towards him.  A scarf--green like the green
+of the sea--was tied round her hat and under her chin and floated
+behind her.  Her dress was blown against her body, and she walked as
+though she loved the battling with the wind.  Her face was flushed with
+the struggle, and she had come up to him before she saw that he was
+there.
+
+"Now, that's luck," she said, laughing, as she sat down beside him;
+"I've been wanting to see you ever since yesterday afternoon, but you
+seemed to have hidden yourself.  It doesn't sound a very long time,
+does it?  But I've something to tell you--rather important."
+
+"What?" He looked at her and suddenly laughed.  "What a splendid place
+for us to meet--its solitude is almost unreal."
+
+"As to solitude," she said calmly, pointing down the valley.  "There's
+Tracy Corridor; it will be all over the Club to-night--he's been
+watching us for some time"; a long thin youth, his head turned in their
+direction, had passed down the footpath towards its ruined chapel, and
+was rapidly vanishing in the direction of Pendragon.
+
+"Well--let them," said Harry, shrugging his shoulders.  "You don't
+mind, do you?"
+
+"Not a bit," she answered lightly.  "They've discussed the Bethel
+family so frequently and with such vigour that a little more or less
+makes no difference whatsoever.  Pendragon taboo! we won't dishonour
+the sea by such a discussion in its sacred presence."
+
+"What do you want to tell me?" he asked, watching delightedly the
+colour of her face, the stray curls that the wind dragged from
+discipline and played games with, the curve of her wrist as her hand
+lay idly in her lap.
+
+"Oh, it'll keep," she said quickly.  "Never mind just yet.  Tell me
+about yourself--what's happened?"
+
+"How did you know that anything had?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, one can tell," she answered.  "Besides, I have felt sure that it
+would, things couldn't go on just as they were----" she paused a moment
+and then added seriously, "I hope you don't mind my asking?  It seems a
+little impertinent--but that was part of the compact, wasn't it?"
+
+"Why, of course," he said.
+
+"Because, you know," she went on, "it's really rather absurd.  I'm only
+twenty-six, and you're--oh!  I don't know _how_ old!--anyhow an elderly
+widower with a grown-up son; but I'm every bit as old as you are,
+really.  And I'm sure I shall give you lots of good advice, because
+you've no idea what a truly practical person I am.  Only sometimes
+lately I've wondered whether you've been a little surprised at my--our
+flinging ourselves into your arms as we have done.  It's like
+father--he always goes the whole way in the first minute; but it isn't,
+or at any rate it oughtn't to be, like me!"
+
+"You are," he said quietly, "the best friend I have in the world.  How
+much that means to me I will tell you one day."
+
+"That's right," she said gaily, settling herself down with her hands
+folded behind her head.  "Now for the situation.  I'm all attention."
+
+"Well," he answered, "the situation is simple enough--it's the next
+move that's puzzling me.  There was, four days ago, an explosion--it
+was after breakfast--a family council--and I was in a minority of one.
+I was accused of a good many things--going down to the Cove, paying no
+attention to the Miss Ponsonbys, and so on.  They attacked me as I
+thought unfairly, and I lost control--on the whole, I am sure, wisely.
+I wasn't very rude, but I said quite plainly that I should go my own
+way in the future and would be dictated to by no one.  At any rate they
+understand that."
+
+"And now?"
+
+"Ah, now--well--it's as you would expect.  We are quite polite but
+hostile.  Robin and I don't speak.  The new game--Father and Son; or
+how to cut your nearest relations with expedition and security."  He
+laughed bitterly.
+
+"Oh, I should like to shake him!" she cried, sitting up and flinging
+her arms wide, as though she were saluting the sea.  "He doesn't know,
+he doesn't understand!  Neither himself nor any one else.  Oh, I will
+talk to him some day!  But, do you know," she said, turning round to
+him, "it's been largely your fault from the beginning."
+
+"Oh, I know," he answered.  "If I had only seen then what I see now.
+But how could I?  How could I tell?  But I always have been that kind
+of man, all my days--finding out things when it's too late and wanting
+to mend things that are hopelessly broken.  And then I have always been
+impulsive and enthusiastic about people.  When I meet them first, I
+mean, I like them and credit them with all the virtues, and then, of
+course, there is an awakening.  Oh, you don't know," he said, with a
+little laugh, "how enthusiastic I was when I first came back."
+
+"Yes, I do," she answered; "that was one of the reasons I took to you."
+
+"But it isn't right," he said, shaking his head.  "I've always been
+like that.  It's been the same with my friendships.  I've rated them
+too highly.  I've expected everything and then cried like a child
+because I've been disappointed.  I can see now not only the folly of
+it, but the weakness.  It is, I suppose, a mistake, caring too much for
+other people, one loses one's self-respect."
+
+"Yes," she said, staring out to sea, "it's quite true--one does.  The
+world's too hard; it doesn't give one credit for fine feelings--it
+takes a short cut and thinks one a fool."
+
+"But the worst of it is," he went on ruefully, "that I never feel any
+older.  I have those enthusiasms and that romance in the same way now
+at forty-five--just as I did at nineteen.  I never could bear
+quarrelling with anybody.  I used to go and apologise even when it
+wasn't my fault--so that, you see, the present situation is difficult."
+
+"Ah, but you must keep your end up," she broke in quickly.  "It's the
+only way--don't give in.  Robin is just like that.  He is self-centred,
+all shams now, and when he sees that you are taken in by them, just as
+he is himself, he despises you.  But when he sees you laugh at them or
+cut them down, then he respects you.  I'm the only person, I think,
+that knows him really here.  The others haven't grasped him at all."
+
+"My father grows worse every day," Harry went on, as though pursuing
+his own train of thought.  "He can't last much longer, and when he goes
+I shall miss him terribly.  We have understood each other during this
+fortnight as we never did in all those early years.  Sometimes I funk
+it utterly--following him with all of them against me."
+
+"Why, no," she cried.  "It's splendid.  You are in power.  They can do
+nothing, and Robin will come round when he sees how you face it out.
+Why, I expect that he's coming already.  I've faced things out here all
+these years, and you dare to say that you can't stand a few months of
+it."
+
+"What have you faced?" he asked.  "Tell me exactly.  I want to know all
+about you; you've never told me very much, and it's only fair that I
+should know."
+
+"Yes," she said gravely, "it is--well, you shall!--at least a part of
+it.  A woman always keeps a little back," she said, looking at him with
+a smile.  "As soon as she ceases to be a puzzle she ceases to interest."
+
+She turned and watched the sea.  Then, after a moment's pause, she said:
+
+"What do you want to know?  I can only give you bits of things--when,
+for instance, I ran away from my nurse, aged five, was picked up by an
+applewoman with a green umbrella who introduced me to three old ladies
+with black pipes and moustaches--I was found in a coal cellar.  Then we
+lived in Bloomsbury--a little house looking out on to a little green
+park--all in miniature it seems on looking back.  I don't think that I
+was a very good child, but they didn't look after me very much.  Mother
+was always out, and father in business.  Fancy," she said, laughing,
+"father in business!  We were happy then, I think, all of us.  Then
+came the terrible time when father ran away."
+
+"Ah, yes," Harry said, "he told me."
+
+"Poor mother! it was quite dreadful; I was only eight then, and I
+didn't understand.  But she sat up all night waiting for him.  She was
+persuaded that he was killed, and she was very ill.  You see he had
+never left any word as to where he was.  And then he suddenly turned up
+again, and ate an enormous breakfast, as though nothing had happened.
+I don't think he realised a bit that she had worried.
+
+"It was so like him, the naked selfishness of it and the utter
+unresponsibility, as of a child.
+
+"Then I went to school--in Bloomsbury somewhere.  It was a Miss Pinker,
+and she was interested in me.  Poor thing, her school failed
+afterwards.  I don't know quite why, but she never could manage, and I
+don't think parents ever paid her.  I had great ideas of myself then; I
+thought that I would be great, an actress or a novelist, but I got rid
+of all that soon enough.  I was happy; we had friends, and luxuries
+were rare enough to make them valuable.  Then--we came down here--this
+sea, this town, this moor--Oh! how I hate them!"
+
+Her hands were clenched and her face was white.  "It isn't fair; they
+have taken everything from me--leisure, brain, friends.  I have had to
+slave ever since I came here to make both ends meet.  Ah! you never
+knew that, did you?  But father has never done a stroke of work since
+he has been here, and mother has never been the same since that night
+when he ran away; so I've had it all--and it has been scrape, scrape,
+scrape all the time.  You don't know the tyranny of butter and eggs and
+vegetables, the perpetual struggle to turn twice two into five, the
+unending worry about keeping up appearances--although, for us, it
+mattered precious little, people never came to see if appearances were
+kept.
+
+"They called at first; I think they meant to be kind, but father was
+sometimes rude and never seemed to know whether he had met a person
+before or no.  Then he was idle, they thought, and they disliked him
+for that.  We gave some little parties, but they failed miserably, and
+at last people always refused.  And, really, it was rather a good
+thing, because we hadn't got the money.  I suppose I'm a bad manager;
+at any rate, whatever it is, things have been getting worse and worse,
+and one day soon there'll be an explosion, and that will be the end.
+We're up to our eyes in debt.  I try to talk to father about it, but he
+waves it away with his hand.  They have, neither of them, the least
+idea of money.  You see, father doesn't need very much himself, except
+for buying books.  He had ten pounds last week--housekeeping money to
+be given to me; he saw an edition of something that he wanted, and the
+money was gone.  We've been living on cabbages ever since.  That's the
+kind of thing that's always happening.  I wanted to talk to him about
+things this morning, but he said that he had an important engagement.
+Now he's out on the moor somewhere flying his kite----"
+
+She was leaning forward, her chin on her hand, staring out to sea.
+
+"It takes the beans out of life, doesn't it?" she said, laughing.  "You
+must think me rather a poor thing for complaining like this, only it
+does some good sometimes to get rid of it, and really at times I'm
+frightened when I think of the end, the disgrace.  If we are proclaimed
+bankrupts it will kill mother.  Father, of course, will soon get over
+it."
+
+"I say--I'm so sorry."  Harry scarcely knew what to say.  She was not
+asking for sympathy; he saw precisely her position--that she was too
+proud to ask for his help, but that she must speak.  No, sympathy was
+not what she wanted.  He suddenly hated Bethel--the selfishness of it,
+the hopeless egotism.  It was, Harry decided, the fools and not the
+villains who spoilt life.
+
+"I want you to do me a favour," he said.  "I want you to promise me
+that, before the end actually comes, if it is going to come, you will
+ask me to help you.  I won't offer to do anything now--I will stand
+aside until you want me; but you won't be proud if it comes to the
+worst, will you?  Do you promise?  You see," he added, trying to laugh
+lightly, "we are chums."
+
+"Yes," she answered quietly, "I promise.  Here's my hand on it."
+
+As he took her hand in his it was all he could do to hold himself back.
+A great wave of passion seized him, his body trembled from head to
+foot, and he grew very white.  He was crying, "I love you, I love you,
+I love you," but he kept the words from his lips--he would not speak
+yet.
+
+"Thank you," was all that he said, and he stood up to hide his
+agitation.
+
+For a little they did not speak.  They both felt that, in that moment,
+they had touched on things that were too sacred for speech; he seemed
+so strong, so splendid in her eyes, as he stood there, facing the sea,
+that she was suddenly afraid.
+
+"Let us go back," she said.  They turned down the crooked path towards
+the ruined chapel.
+
+"What was the news that you had for me?" he asked suddenly.
+
+"Why, of course," she answered; "I meant to have told you before."
+Then, more gravely, "It's about Robin----"
+
+"About Robin?"
+
+"Yes.  I don't know really whether I ought to tell you, because, after
+all, it's only chatter and mother never gets stories right--she manages
+to twist them into the most amazing shapes."
+
+"No.  Tell me," he insisted.
+
+"Well--there's a person whom mother knows--Mrs. Feverel.  Odious to my
+mind, but mother sees something of her."
+
+"A lady?"
+
+"No--by no means; a gloomy, forbidding person who would like to get a
+footing here if she could, and is discontented because people won't
+know her.  You see," she added, "we can only know the people that other
+people don't know.  This Mrs. Feverel has a daughter--rather a pretty
+girl, about eighteen--I should think she might be rather nice.  I am a
+little sorry for her--there isn't a father.
+
+"Well--these people have, in some way, entangled Robin.  I don't quite
+know the right side of it, but mother was having tea with Mrs. Feverel
+yesterday afternoon and that good woman hinted a great deal at the
+power that she now had over your family.  For some time she was
+mysterious, but at last she unburdened herself.
+
+"Apparently, Master Robin had been making advances to the girl in the
+summer, and now wants to back out of it.  He had, I gather, written
+letters, and it was to these that Mrs. Feverel was referring----"
+
+Harry drew a long breath.  "I'm damned," he said.
+
+"Oh, of course, I don't know," she went on; "you see, it may have been
+garbled.  Mrs. Feverel is, I should think, just the person to hint
+suspicions for which there's no ground at all.  Only it won't do if
+she's going to whisper to every one in Pendragon--I thought you ought
+to be warned----"
+
+Harry was thinking hard.  "The young fool," he said.  "But it's just
+what I've been wanting.  This is just where I can come in.  I knew
+something has been worrying him lately.  I could see it.  I believe
+he's been in two minds as to telling me--only he's been too proud.
+But, of course, he will have to tell some one.  A youngster like that
+is no match for a girl and her mother of the class these people seem to
+be.  He will confide in his aunt--"  He stopped and burst into
+uncontrollable laughter.  "Oh!  The humour of it--don't you see?
+They'll be terrified--it will threaten the honour of the House.  They
+will all go running round to get the letters back; that girl will have
+a good time--and that, of course, is just where I come in."
+
+"I don't see," said Mary.
+
+"Why, it's just what I've been watching for.  Harry Trojan
+arrives--Harry Trojan is no good--Harry Trojan is despised--but
+suddenly he holds the key to the situation.  Presto!  The family on
+their knees----"
+
+Mary looked at him in astonishment.  It was, she thought, unlike him to
+exult like this over the misfortunes of his sister; she was a little
+disappointed.  "It is really rather serious," she said, "for your
+sister, I mean.  You know what Pendragon is.  If they once get wind of
+the affair there will be a great deal of talk."
+
+"Ah, yes!" he said gravely.  "You mustn't think me a brute for laughing
+like that.  But I'm thinking of Robin.  If you knew how I cared for the
+boy--what this means.  Why, it brings him to my feet--if I carry the
+thing out properly."  Then quickly, "You don't think they've got back
+the letters already?"
+
+"They haven't had time--unless they've gone to-day.  Besides, the
+girl's not likely to give them up easily.  But, of course, I don't
+really know if that's how the case lies--mother's account was very
+confused.  Only I am certain that Mrs. Feverel thinks she has a pull
+somewhere; and she said something about letters."
+
+"I will go at once," Harry said, walking quickly.  "I can never be
+grateful enough to you.  Where do they live?"
+
+"10 Seaview Terrace," she answered.  "A little dingy street past the
+church and Breadwater Place--it faces the sea."
+
+"And the girl--what is she like?"
+
+"I've only seen her about twice.  I should say tall, thin, dark--rather
+wonderful eyes in a very pale face; dresses rather well in an aesthetic
+kind of way."
+
+He said very little more, and she did not interrupt his thoughts.  She
+was surprised to find that she was a little jealous of Robin, the
+interest in her own affairs had been very sweet to her, the remembrance
+of it now sent the blood to her cheeks, but this news seemed to have
+driven his thought for her entirely out of his head.
+
+Suddenly, at the bend of the little lane leading up to the town, they
+came upon her father, flying a huge blue kite.  The kite soared above
+his head; he watched it, his body bent back, his arm straining at the
+cord.  He saw them and pulled it in.
+
+"Hullo!  Trojan, how are you?  You ought to do this.  It's the most
+splendid fun--you've no idea.  This wind is glorious.  I shan't be home
+till dark, Mary----" and they left him, laughing like a boy.  She gave
+him further directions as to the house, and they parted.  She felt a
+little lonely as she watched him hurrying down the street.  He seemed
+to have forgotten her completely.  "Mary Bethel, you're a selfish pig,"
+she said, as she climbed the stairs to her room.  "Of course, he cares
+more about his son--why not?"  But nevertheless she sighed, and then
+went down to make tea for her mother, who was tired and on the verge of
+tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+As he passed through the town all his thoughts were of his splendid
+fortune.  This was the very thing for which he had been hoping, the key
+to all his difficulties.
+
+The dusk was creeping down the streets.  A silver star hung over the
+roofs silhouetted black against the faint blue of the night sky.  The
+lamps seemed to wage war with the departing daylight; the after-glow of
+the setting sun fluttered valiantly for a little, and then, yielding
+its place to the stronger golden circles stretching like hanging moons
+down the street, vanished.
+
+The shops were closing.  Worthley's Hosiery was putting up the shutters
+and a boy stood in the doorway, yawning; there had been a sale and the
+shop was tired.  Midgett's Bookshop at the corner of the High Street
+was still open and an old man with spectacles and a flowing beard stood
+poring over the odd-lot box at 2d. a volume by the door.
+
+The young man who advised ladies as to the purchase of six-shilling
+novels waited impatiently.  He had hoped to be off by six to-night.  He
+had an appointment at seven--and now this old man....  "We close at
+six, sir," he said.  But the old gentleman did not hear.  He bent lower
+and lower until his beard almost swept the pavement.  Harry passed on.
+
+All these things passed like shadows before Harry; he noticed them, but
+they fitted into the pattern of his thoughts, forming a frame round his
+great central idea--that at last he had his chance.
+
+There was no fear in his mind that he would not get the letters.  There
+was, of course, the chance that Clare had been before him, but then, as
+Mary had said, she had scarcely had time, and it was not likely that
+the girl would give them up easily.  It was just possible, too, that
+the whole affair was a mistake, that Mrs. Feverel had merely boasted
+for the sake of impressing old Mrs. Bethel, that there was little or
+nothing behind it, but that was unlikely.
+
+He had formed no definite decision as to the method of his attack; he
+must wait and see how the land lay.  A great deal depended on the
+presence of the mother--the girl, too, might be so many different
+things; he was not even certain of her age.  If there was nothing in
+it, he would look a fool, but he must risk that.  A wild idea came into
+his head that he might, perhaps, find Clare there--that would be
+amusing.  He imagined them bidding for the letters, and that brought
+him to the point that money would be necessary--well, he was ready to
+pay a good deal, for it was Robin for whom he was bidding.
+
+He found the street without any difficulty.  Its dinginess was obvious,
+and now, with a little wind whistling round its corners and whirling
+eddies of dust in the road, its three lamps at long distances down the
+street, the monotonous beat of the sea beyond the walls, it was
+depressing and sad.
+
+It reminded him of the street in Auckland where he had heard the
+strange voice; it was just such another moment now--the silence bred
+expectancy and the sea was menacing.
+
+"I shall get the shivers if I don't move," he said, and rang the bell.
+
+The slatternly servant that he had expected to see answered the bell,
+and the tap-tap of her down-at-heels slippers sounded along the passage
+as she departed to see if Mrs. Feverel would see him.
+
+He waited in the draughty hall; it was so dark that coats and hats
+loomed, ghostly shapes, by the farther wall.  A door opened, there was
+sound of voices--a moment's pause, then the door closed and the maid
+appeared at the head of the stairs.
+
+"The missis says you can come up," she said ungraciously.
+
+She eyed him curiously as he passed her, and scented drama in the set
+of his shoulders and the twitch of his fingers.
+
+"A military!" she concluded, and tap-tapped down again into the kitchen.
+
+A low fire was burning in the grate and the blind napped against the
+window.  The draught blew the everlastings on the mantelpiece together
+with a little dry, dusty sound like the rustle of a breeze in dried
+twigs.
+
+Mrs. Feverel sat bending over the fire, and he thought as he saw her
+that it would need a very great fire indeed to put any warmth into her.
+Her black hair, parted in the middle, was bound back tightly over her
+head and confined by a net.
+
+She shook hands with him solemnly, and then waited as though she
+expected an explanation.
+
+Harry smiled.  "I'm afraid, Mrs. Feverel," he said, "that you may think
+this extraordinary.  I can only offer as apology your acquaintance with
+my son."
+
+"Ah yes--Mr. Robert Trojan."
+
+Her mouth closed with a snap and she waited, with her hands folded on
+her lap, for him to say something further.
+
+"You knew him, I think, at Cambridge in the summer?"
+
+"Yes, my daughter and I were there in the summer."
+
+Harry paused.  It would be harder than he expected, and where was the
+daughter?
+
+"Cambridge is very pleasant in the summer?" he asked, his resolution
+weakening rapidly before her impassivity.
+
+"My daughter and I found it so.  But, of course, it depends----"
+
+It depended, he reflected, on such people as his son--boys whom they
+could cheat at their ease.  He had no doubt at all now that the mother
+was an adventuress of the common, melodrama type.  He suspected the
+girl of being the same.  It made things in some ways much simpler,
+because money would, probably, settle everything; there would be no
+question of fine feelings.  He knew exactly how to deal with such
+women, he had known them in New Zealand; but he was amused as he
+contemplated Clare's certain failure--such a woman was entirely outside
+her experience.
+
+He came to the point at once.
+
+"My being here is easily explained.  I learn, Mrs. Feverel, that my son
+formed an attachment for your daughter during last summer.  He wrote
+some letters now in your daughter's possession.  His family are
+naturally anxious that those letters should be returned.  I have come
+to see what can be done about the matter."  He paused--but she said
+nothing, and remained motionless by the fire.
+
+"Perhaps," he said slowly, "you would prefer, Mrs. Feverel, to name a
+possible price yourself?"
+
+Afterwards, on looking back, he felt that his expectations had been
+perfectly justified; she had, up to that point, given him every reason
+to take the line that he adopted.  She had listened to the first part
+of his speech without remark; she must, he reflected afterwards, have
+known what was coming, yet she had given no sign that she heard.
+
+And so the change in her was startling and took him utterly by surprise.
+
+She looked up at him from her chair, and the thin ghost of a smile that
+crept round the corners of her mouth, faced him for a moment, and then
+vanished suddenly, was the strangest thing that he had ever seen.
+
+"Don't you think, Mr. Trojan, that that is a little insulting?"
+
+It made him feel utterly ashamed.  In her own house, in her
+drawing-room, he had offered her money.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he stammered.
+
+"Yes," she answered slowly.  "You had rather misconceived the
+situation."
+
+Harry felt that her silences were the most eloquent that he had ever
+known.  He began to be very frightened, and, for the first time,
+conceived the possibility of not securing the letters at all.  The
+thought that his hopes might be dashed to the ground, that he might be
+no nearer his goal at the end of the interview than before, sharpened
+his wits.  It was to be a deal in subtlety rather than the obvious
+thing that he had expected--well, he would play it to the end.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said again.  "I have been extremely rude.  I am
+only recently returned from abroad, and my knowledge of the whole
+affair is necessarily very limited.  I came here with a very vague idea
+both as to yourself and your intentions.  In drawing the conclusions
+that I did I have done both you and your daughter a grave injustice,
+for which I humbly apologise.  I may say that, before coming here, I
+had had no interview with my son.  I am, therefore, quite ignorant as
+regards facts."
+
+He did not feel that his apology had done much good.  He felt that she
+had accepted both his insult and apology quite calmly, as though she
+had regarded them inevitably.
+
+"The facts," she said, looking down again at the fire, "are quite
+simple.  My daughter and your son became acquainted at Cambridge in May
+last.  They saw a great deal of each other during the next few months.
+At the end of that time they were engaged.  Mr. Robert Trojan gave us
+to understand that he was about to acquaint his family with the fact.
+They corresponded continually during the summer--letters, I believe, of
+the kind common to young people in love.  Mr. Robert Trojan spoke
+continually of the marriage and suggested dates.  We then came down
+here, and, soon after our arrival, I perceived a change in your son's
+attitude.  He came to see us very rarely, and at last ceased his visits
+altogether.  My daughter was naturally extremely upset, and there were
+several rather painful interviews.  He then wrote returning her letters
+and demanding the return of his own.  This she definitely refused.
+Those are the facts, Mr. Trojan."
+
+She had spoken without any emotion, and evidently expected that he
+should do the same.
+
+"I have come," he said, "on behalf of my son to demand the return of
+those letters."
+
+"Demand?"
+
+"Naturally.  Letters, Mrs. Feverel, of that kind are dangerous things
+to leave about."
+
+"Yes?"  She smiled.  "Dangerous for whom?  I think you forget a little,
+Mr. Trojan, in your anxiety for your son's welfare, my daughter's side
+of the question.  She naturally treasures what represents to her the
+happiest months of her existence.  You must remember that your son's
+conduct--shall I call it desertion?--was a terrible blow.  She loved
+him, Mr. Trojan, with all her heart.  Is it not right that he should
+suffer a little as well?"
+
+"I refuse to believe," he answered sharply, "that this is all a matter
+of sentiment.  I regret extremely that my son should have behaved in
+such a cowardly and dastardly manner--it has hurt and surprised me more
+than I can say--but, were that all, it were surely better to bury the
+whole affair as soon as may be.  I cannot believe that you are keeping
+the letters with no intention of making public use of them."
+
+"Ah," said Mrs. Feverel, "I wonder."
+
+"Hadn't we better come to a clear understanding, Mrs. Feverel?" he
+asked.  "We are neither of us children, and this beating about the bush
+serves no purpose whatever.  If you refuse to return the letters, I
+have at least the right to ask what you mean to do with them."
+
+"Here is my daughter," she answered, "she shall speak for herself."
+
+He turned round at the sound of the opening door, and watched her as
+she came in.  She was very much as he had imagined--thin and tall,
+walking straight from the hips, giving a little the impression that she
+was standing on her toes.  Her eyes seemed amazingly dark in the
+whiteness of her face.  She seemed a little older than he had
+expected--perhaps twenty-five or twenty-six.
+
+She looked at him sharply as she entered and then came forward to her
+mother.  He could see that she was agitated--her breath came quickly,
+and her hands folded and unfolded as though she were tearing something
+to pieces.
+
+"This," said Mrs. Feverel, "is my daughter, Mr. Trojan.  My dear, Mr.
+Henry Trojan."
+
+She bowed and sat down opposite her mother.  He thought she looked
+rather pathetic as she faced him; here was no adventuress, no schemer.
+He began to feel that his son had behaved brutally, outrageously.
+
+Mrs. Feverel rose.  "I will leave you, my dear.  Mr. Trojan will tell
+you for what he has come."
+
+She moved slowly from the room and Harry drew a breath of relief at her
+absence.  There was a moment's pause.  "I hope you will forgive me,
+Miss Feverel," he said gently.  "I'm afraid that both your mother and
+yourself must regard this as impertinent, but, at the same time, I
+think you will understand."
+
+She seemed to have regained her composure.  "It is about Robin, I
+suppose?"
+
+"Yes.  Could you tell me exactly what the relations between you were?"
+
+"We were engaged," she answered simply, "last summer at Cambridge.  He
+broke off the engagement."
+
+"Yes--but I understand that you intend to keep his letters?"
+
+"That is quite true."
+
+"I have come to ask you to restore them."
+
+"I am sorry.  I am afraid that it is a waste of time.  I shall not go
+back on my word."
+
+He could not understand what her game was--he was not sure that she had
+a game at all; she seemed very helpless, and, at the same time, he felt
+that there was strength behind her answers.  He was at a loss; his
+experience was of no value to him at all.
+
+"I am going to beg you to alter your decision.  I am pleading with you
+in a matter that is of the utmost importance to me.  Robin is my only
+son.  He has behaved abominably, and you can understand that it has
+been rather a blow to me to return after twenty years' absence and find
+him engaged in such an affair.  But he is very young, and--pardon
+me--so are you.  I am an older man and my experience of the world is
+greater than yours; believe me when I say that you will regret
+persistence in your refusal most bitterly in later years.  It seems to
+me a crisis--a crisis, perhaps, for all of us.  Take an older man's
+word for it; there is only one possible course for you to adopt."
+
+"Really, Mr. Trojan," she said, laughing, "you are intensely serious.
+Last week I thought that my heart was broken; but now--well, it takes a
+lot to break a heart.  I am sure that you will be glad to hear that my
+appetite has returned.  As to the letters--why, think how pleasant it
+will be for me to sentimentalise over them in my old age!  Surely, that
+is sufficient motive."
+
+She was trying to speak lightly, but her lip quivered.
+
+"You are running a serious risk, Miss Feverel," he answered gravely.
+"Your intention is, I imagine, to punish Robin.  I can assure you that
+in a few years' time he will be punished enough.  He scarcely realises
+as yet what he has done.  That knowledge will come to him later."
+
+"Poor Robin!" she said.  "Yes, he ought to feel rather a worm now; he
+has written me several very agitated letters.  But really I cannot help
+it.  The affair is over--done with.  I regard the letters as my
+personal property.  I cannot see that it is any one else's business at
+all."
+
+"Of course it is our business," he answered seriously.  "Those letters
+must be destroyed.  I do not accuse you of any deliberate malicious
+intentions, but there is, as far as I can see, only one motive in your
+keeping them.  I have not seen them, but from what I have heard I
+gather that they contain definite promise of marriage.  Your case is a
+strong one."
+
+"Yes," she laughed.  "Poor Robin's enthusiasm led him to some very
+violent expressions of affection.  But, Mr. Trojan, revenge is sweet.
+Every woman, I think, likes it, and I am no exception to my sex.
+Aren't you a little unfair in claiming all the pleasure and none of the
+pain?"
+
+"No," he answered firmly.  "I am not.  It is as much for your own sake
+as for his that I am making my claim.  You cannot see things in fair
+proportion now; you will bitterly regret the step you contemplate
+taking."
+
+"Well, I am sure," she replied, "it is very good of you to think of me
+like that.  I am deeply touched--you seem to take quite a fatherly
+interest."  She lay back in her chair and watched him with eyes half
+closed.
+
+He was beginning to believe that it was no pose after all, and his
+anger rose.
+
+"Come, Miss Feverel," he said, "let's have done with playing--let us
+come to terms.  It is a matter of vital importance that I should
+receive the letters.  I am ready to go some lengths to obtain them.
+What are your terms?"
+
+She flushed a little.
+
+"Isn't that a little rude, Mr. Trojan?" she said.  "It is of course the
+melodramatic attitude.  It was not long ago that I saw a play in which
+letters figured.  Pistols were fired, and the heroine wore red plush.
+Is that to be our style now?  I am sorry that I cannot oblige you.
+There are no pistols, but I will tell you frankly that it is no
+question of terms.  I refuse, under any circumstances whatever, to
+return the letters."
+
+"That is your absolute decision?"
+
+"My absolute decision."
+
+He got up and stood, for a moment, by her chair.
+
+"My dear," he said, "you do not know what you are doing.  You are
+disappointed, you are insulted--you think that you will have your
+revenge at all costs.  You do not know now, but you will discover
+later, that it has been no revenge at all.  It will be the most
+regretted action of your life.  You have a great chance; you are going
+to throw it away.  I am sorry, because you are not, I think, at all
+that sort of girl."  He paused a moment.  "Well, there is no more to be
+said.  I am sorry as much for your sake as my own.  Good-bye."
+
+He moved to the door.  The disappointment was almost more than he could
+bear.  He did not know how strong his hopes had been; and now he must
+return with things as they were before, with the added knowledge that
+his son had behaved like a cad, and that the world would soon know.
+
+"Good-bye," he said again and turned round towards her.
+
+She rose from her chair and tried to smile.  She said something that he
+could not catch, and then, suddenly, to his intense astonishment, she
+flung herself back into her chair again, hid her face in her hands, and
+burst into uncontrollable tears.  He stood irresolute, and then came
+back and waited by the fireplace.  He thought it was the most desolate
+thing that he had ever known--the flapping of the blind against the
+window, the dry rustling of the leaves on the mantel-piece, only
+accentuated the sound of her sobbing.  He let her cry and then, at
+last--"I am a brute," he said.  "I am sorry--I will go away."
+
+"No."  She sat up and began to dry her eyes with her handkerchief.
+"Don't go--it was absurd of me to give way like that; I thought that I
+had got over all that, but one is so silly--one never can tell----"
+
+He sat down again and waited.
+
+"You see," she went on, "I had liked you, always, from the first moment
+that I saw you.  You were different from the others--quite
+different--and after Robin had behaved--as he did--I distrusted every
+one.  I thought they were all like that, except you.  You do not know
+what people have done to us here.  We have had no friends; they have
+all despised us, especially your family.  And Robin said--well, lots of
+things that hurt.  That I was not good enough and that his aunt would
+not like me.  And then, of course, when I saw that, if I kept the
+letters, I could make them all unhappy--why, of course, I kept them.
+It was natural, wasn't it?  But I didn't want to hurt you--I felt that
+all the time; and when I saw you here when I came in, I was afraid,
+because I hardly knew what to do.  I thought I would show you that I
+wasn't weak and foolish as you thought me--the kind of girl that Robin
+could throw over so easily without thinking twice about it--and so I
+meant to hold out.  There--and now, of course, you think me hateful."
+
+He sat down by her and took her hand.  "It's all rather ridiculous,
+isn't it?" he said.  "I'm old enough to be your father, but I'm just
+where you are, really.  We've all been learning this last
+fortnight--you and Robin, and I--and all learning the same thing.  It's
+been a case," he hesitated for a word, "of calf-love, for all three of
+us.  Don't regret Robin; he's not worth it.  Why, you are worth twenty
+of him, and he'll know that later on.  I'm afraid that sounds
+patronising," he added, laughing.  "But I'm humble really.  Never mind
+the letters.  You shall do what you like with them and I will trust
+you.  You are not," he repeated, "that sort of girl.  Why, dash it!" he
+suddenly added, "Robin doesn't know what he has lost."
+
+"Ah!" she said, blushing, "it wouldn't have done.  I can see that
+now--but I can see so many things that I couldn't see before.  I wish I
+had known a man like you--then I might have learnt earlier; but I had
+nobody, nobody at all, and I nearly made a mess of things.  But it
+isn't too late!"
+
+"Too late!  Why, no!" he answered.  "I'm only beginning now, and I'm
+forty-five.  I, too, have learned a lot in this fortnight."
+
+She looked at him anxiously for a moment.  "They don't like you, do
+they?  Robin and the others?"
+
+"No," he answered; "I don't think they do."
+
+"I know," she said quickly; "I heard from Robin, and I'm sorry.  You
+must have had a bad time.  But why, if they have been like that, do you
+want the letters?  They have treated us both in the same way."
+
+"Why, yes," he answered.  "Only Robin is my son.  That, you see, is my
+great affair.  I care for him more than for anything in the world, and
+if I had the letters----"
+
+"Why, of course," she cried, "I see--it gives you the pull.  Why, how
+blind I've been!  It's splendid!"  She sprang up, and went to a small
+writing-desk by the window; she unlocked a drawer and returned with a
+small packet in her hand.  "There," she said, "there they are.  They
+are not many, are they, for such a big fuss?  But I think that I meant
+you to have them all the time--from the first moment that I saw you.  I
+had hoped that you would ask for them----"
+
+He took the letters, held them in his hand for a moment, and then
+slipped them into his pocket.
+
+"Thank you," he said, "I shall not forget."
+
+"Nor I," she answered.  "We are, I suppose, ships that pass in the
+night.  We have just shared for a moment an experience, and it has
+changed both of us a little.  But sometimes remember me, will you?
+Perhaps you would write?"
+
+"Why, of course," he answered, "I shall want to know how things turn
+out.  What will you do?"
+
+"I don't know.  We will go away from here, of course.  Go back to
+London, I expect--and I will get some work.  There are lots of things
+to do, and I shall be happy."
+
+"I hope," he said, "that the real thing is just beginning for both of
+us."
+
+She stood by the window looking out into the street.  "It makes things
+different if you believe in me," she said.  "It will give one courage.
+I had begun to think that there was no one in the world who cared."
+
+"Be plucky," he said.  "Work's the only thing.  It is because we've
+both been idle here that we're worried.  Don't think any more of Robin.
+He isn't good enough for you yet; he'll learn, like the rest of us; but
+he'll have to go through something first.  You'll find a better man."
+
+"Poor Robin," she said.  "Be kind to him!"
+
+He took her hand for a moment, smiled, and was gone.  She watched him
+from the window.
+
+He looked back at her and smiled again.  Then he passed the corner of
+the street.
+
+"So that's the end!"  She turned back from the window.  "Now for a
+beginning!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+Garrett Trojan had considered the matter for two days and had come to
+no conclusion.  His manner of considering anything was peculiar.  He
+loved procrastination and coloured future events with such beautiful
+radiancy that, when they actually came, the shock of finding them only
+drab was so terrible that he avoided them altogether.  He was, however,
+saved from any lasting pain and disappointment because he had been
+given, from early childhood, that splendid gift of discovering himself
+to be the continual hero of a continual play.  It was not only that he
+could make no move in life at all without being its hero--that, of
+course, was pleasant enough; but that it was always a fresh discovery
+was truly the amazing thing.  He was able to wake up, as it were, and
+discover afresh, every day of his life, what a hero he was; this was
+never monotonous, never wearisome.  He played the game anew from day to
+day--and the best part of the game was not knowing that it was a game
+at all.
+
+It must be admitted that he only maintained the illusion by keeping
+somewhat apart from his fellow-men--too frequent contact must have
+destroyed his dreams.  But his aloofness was termed preserving his
+individuality, and in the well-curtained library, in carpet-slippers
+and a smoking-jacket, he built his own monument with infinite care
+before an imaginary crowd in an imaginary city of dreams.
+
+There were times, of course, when he was a little uneasy.  He had heard
+men titter at the Club: Clare had, occasionally, spoken plain words as
+to his true position in the House, and he had even, at times, doubts as
+to the permanent value of the book on which he was engaged.  During
+these awful moments he gazed through the rent curtain into a valley of
+dead men's bones ruled by a dreary god who had no knowledge of Garrett
+Trojan and cared very little for the fortunes of the Trojan House.
+
+But a diligent application to the storehouses of his memory produced
+testimonials dragged, for the most part, from reluctant adherents which
+served to prove that Garrett Trojan was a great man and the head of a
+great family.
+
+He would, however, like some definite act to prove conclusively that he
+was head.  He had, at times, the unhappy suspicion that an outsider,
+regarding the matter superficially, might be led to conclude that Clare
+held command.  He found that if he interfered at all in family matters
+this suspicion was immediately strengthened, and so he confined himself
+to his room and watered diligently the somewhat stinted crop of
+Illusions.
+
+Nevertheless he felt the necessity of some prominent action that would
+still for ever his suspicions of incompetence, and would afford him a
+sure foundation on which to build his palace of self-complacency and
+personal appreciation.  During his latter years he had regarded himself
+as his father's probable successor.  Harry had seemed a very long way
+off in New Zealand, and became, eventually, an improbable myth, for
+Garrett had that happy quality bestowed on the ostrich of sticking his
+head into the sand of imagination and boastfully concluding that facts
+were not there.  Harry was a fact, but by continuously asserting that
+New Zealand was a long way off and that Harry would never come back,
+Harry's existence became a very pleasant fairy-story, like nautical
+tales of the sea-serpent and the Bewitching Mermaid.  They might be
+there, and it was very pleasant to listen to stories about them, but
+they had no real bearing on life as he knew it.
+
+Harry's return had, of course, shattered this bubble, and Garrett had
+had to yield all hopes of eventual succession.  He had, on the whole,
+borne it very well, and had come to the conclusion that succeeding his
+father would have entailed the performance of many wearisome duties;
+but that future being denied him, it was more than ever necessary to
+seize some opportunity of personal distinction.
+
+The discussion as to the destruction of the Cove had seemed to offer
+him every chance of attaining a prominent position.  The matter had
+grown in importance every day.  Pendragon had divided into two separate
+and sharply-distinguished camps, one standing valiantly by its standard
+of picturesque tradition and its hatred of modern noise and
+materialism, the other asserting loudly its love of utility and
+progress, derisively pointing the finger of scorn at old-world
+Conservatism run mad and an incredible affection for defective
+drainage.  Garrett had flung himself heart and soul (as he said) into
+the latter of these parties, and, feeling that this was a chance of
+distinction that fortune was not likely to offer him again in the near
+future, appeared frequently at discussions and even on one occasion in
+the Town Hall spoke.
+
+But he was surprised and disappointed; he found that he had nothing to
+say, the truth being that he was much more interested in Garrett than
+in the Cove, and that his audience had come to listen to the second of
+these two subjects rather than the first.  He found himself shelved; he
+was most politely told that he was not wanted, and he retired into his
+carpet-slippers again after one of those terrible quarters of an hour
+when he peeped past the curtain and saw a miserable, naked puppet
+shivering in a grey world, and that puppet was Garrett Trojan.
+
+Then suddenly a second opportunity presented itself.  Robin's trouble
+was unexpectedly reassuring.  This, he told himself, was the very
+thing.  If he could only prove to the world that he had dealt
+successfully with practical matters in a practical way, he need never
+worry again.  Let him deal with this affair promptly and resourcefully,
+as a man of the world and a true Trojan, and his position was assured.
+He must obtain the letters and at once.  He spent several pleasant
+hours picturing the scene in which he returned the letters to Robin.
+He knew precisely the moment, the room, the audience that he would
+choose--he had decided on the words that he would speak, but he was not
+sure yet as to how he would obtain the letters.
+
+He thought over it for three days and came to no conclusion.  It ought
+not to be difficult; the girl was probably one of those common
+adventuresses of whom one heard so often.  He had never actually met
+one--they did not suit carpet-slippers--but one knew how to deal with
+them.  It was merely a matter of tact and _savoir-faire_.
+
+Yes, it would be fun when he flourished the letters in the face of the
+family; how amazed Clare would be and how it would please Robin!--and
+then he suddenly awoke to the fact that time was getting on, and that
+he had done nothing.  And, after all, there were only two possible
+lines of action--to write or to seek a personal interview.  Of these he
+infinitely preferred the first.  He need not leave his room, he could
+direct operations from his arm-chair, and he could preserve that
+courtesy and decorum that truly befitted a Trojan.  But he had grave
+fears that the letter would not be accepted; Robin's had been scorned
+and his own might suffer the same fate--no, he was afraid that it must
+be a personal interview.
+
+He had come to this conclusion reluctantly, and now he hesitated to act
+on it; she might be violent, and he felt that he could not deal with
+melodrama.  But the thought of ultimate victory supported him.  The
+delicious surprise of it, the gratitude, the security of his authority
+from all attack for the rest of his days!  Ah yes, it was worth it.
+
+He dressed carefully in a suit of delicate grey, wearing, as he did on
+all public occasions, an eyeglass.  He took some time over his
+preparations and drank a whisky and soda before starting; he had
+secured the address from Robin, without, he flattered himself, any
+discovery as to the reason of his request.  10 Seaview Terrace!  Ah
+yes, he knew where that was--a gloomy back street, quite a fitting
+place for such an affair.
+
+He was still uncertain as to the plan of campaign, but he could not
+conceive it credible that any young woman in any part of the British
+Empire would stand up long against a Trojan--it would, he felt certain,
+prove easy.
+
+He noticed with pleasure the attention paid to him by the down-at-heels
+servant--it was good augury for the success of the interview.  He
+lowered his voice to a deep bass whilst asking for Miss Feverel, and he
+fixed his eyeglass at a more strikingly impressive angle.  He looked at
+women from four points of view, and he had, as it were, a sliding scale
+of manners on which he might mark delicately his perception of their
+position.  There was firstly the Countess, or Titled Nobility.  Here
+his manner was slightly deferential, and at the same time a little
+familiar--proof of his own good breeding.
+
+Secondly, there was the Trojan, or the lady of Assured Position.  Here
+he was quite familiar, and at the same time just a little
+patronising--proof of his sense of Trojan superiority.
+
+Thirdly, there was the Governess, or Poor Gentility Position.  To
+members of this class he was affably kind, conveying his sense of their
+merits and sympathy with their struggle against poverty, but
+nevertheless marking quite plainly the gulf fixed between him and them.
+
+Fourthly, there were the Impossibles, or the Rest--ranging from the
+wives of successful Brewers to that class known as Unfortunate.  Here
+there was no alteration in his manner; he was stern, and short, and
+stiff with all of them, and the reason of their existence was one of
+the unsolved problems that had always puzzled him.  This woman would,
+of course, belong to this latter class--he drew himself up haughtily as
+he entered the drawing-room.
+
+Dahlia Feverel was alone, seated working in the window.  Life was
+beginning to offer attractions to her again.  The thought of work was
+pleasing; she had decided to train as a nurse, and she began to see
+Robin in a clear, true light; she was even beginning to admit that he
+had been right, that their marriage would have been a great mistake.
+The announcement of Garrett Trojan took her by surprise--she gathered
+her work together and rose, her brain refusing to act consecutively.
+He wanted, of course, the letters--well, she had not got them....  It
+promised to be rather amusing.
+
+And he on his side was surprised.  He had expected a woman with
+frizzled hair and a dress of violent colours; he saw a slender, pale
+girl in black, and she looked rather more of a lady than he had
+supposed.  He was, in spite of himself, confused.  He began hurriedly--
+
+"I am Mr. Garrett Trojan--I dare say you have heard of me from my
+nephew--Robin--Robert--with whom, I believe, you are acquainted,
+Miss--ah--Feverel.  I have come on his behalf to request the return of
+some letters that he wrote to you during the summer."
+
+He drew a breath and paused.  Well, that was all right anyhow, and
+quite sufficiently business-like.
+
+"Won't you sit down, Mr. Trojan?" she said, smiling at him.  "It is
+good of you to have taken so much trouble simply about a few
+letters--and you really might have written, mightn't you, and saved
+yourself a personal visit?"
+
+He refused to sit down and drew himself up.  "Now I warn you, Miss
+Feverel," he said, "that this is no laughing matter.  You are doing a
+very foolish thing in keeping the letters--very foolish--ah! um!  You
+must, of course, see that--exceedingly foolish!"
+
+He came to a pause.  It was really rather difficult to know what to say
+next.
+
+"Ah, Mr. Trojan," she answered, "you must leave me to judge about the
+foolishness of it.  After all, they are my letters."
+
+"Pure waste of time," he answered, his voice getting a little shrill.
+"After all, there can be no question about it.  We _must_ have the
+letters--we are ready to go to some lengths to obtain them--even--ah,
+um--money----"
+
+"Now, Mr. Trojan," she said quickly, "you are scarcely polite.  But I
+am sure that you will see no reason for prolonging this interview when
+I say that, under no circumstances whatever, can I return the letters.
+That is my unchanging decision."
+
+He had no words; he stared at her, dumb with astonishment.  This open
+defiance was the very last thing that he had expected.  Then, at last--
+
+"You refuse?" he said with a little gasp.
+
+"Yes," she answered lightly, "and I cannot see anything very
+astonishing in my refusal.  They are my property, and it is nobody
+else's business at all."
+
+"But it is," he almost screamed.  "Business!  Why, I should think it
+was!  Do you think we want to have a scandal throughout the kingdom?
+Do you imagine that it would be pleasant for us to have our name in all
+the papers--our name that has never known disgrace since the days of
+William the Conqueror?  You can have," he added solemnly, "very little
+idea of the value of a name if you imagine that we are going to
+tolerate its abuse in this fashion.  Dear me, no!"
+
+He was growing quite red at the thought of his possible failure.  The
+things in the room annoyed him--the everlasting rustling on the
+mantelpiece--a staring photograph of Mr. Feverel, deceased, that seemed
+to follow him, protestingly, round and round the room--a corner of a
+dusty grey road seen dimly through dirty window-panes; why did people
+live in such a place--or, rather, why did such people live at all?--and
+to think that it was people like that who dared to threaten Trojan
+honour!  How could Robin have been such a fool!
+
+So, feeling that the situation was so absurd that argument was out of
+place, he began to bluster--
+
+"Come now, Miss Feverel--this won't do, you know! it won't really.
+It's too absurd--quite ridiculous.  Why, you forget altogether who the
+Trojans are!  Why, we've been years and years--hundreds of years!  You
+can't intend to oppose institutions of that kind!  Why--it's
+impossible--you don't realise what you're doing.  Dear me, no!  Why,
+the whole thing's fantastic--" and then rather lamely, "You'll be
+sorry, you know."
+
+She had been listening to him with amusement.  It was pleasant to have
+the family on its knees like this after its treatment of her.  He was
+saying, too, very many of the things that his brother had said, but how
+different it was!
+
+"You know, Mr. Trojan," she said, "that I can't help feeling that you
+are making rather a lot of it.  After all, I haven't said that I'm
+going to do anything with the letters, have I?--simply keep them, and
+that, I think, I am quite entitled to do.  And really my mind won't
+change about that--I cannot give them to you."
+
+"Cannot!" he retorted eagerly.  "Why, it's easy enough.  You know, Miss
+Feverel, it won't do to play with me.  I'm a man of the world and
+fencing won't do, you know--not a bit of it.  When I say I mean to have
+the letters, I mean to have them, and--ah, um--that's all about it.  It
+won't do to fence, you know," he said again.
+
+"But I'm not fencing, Mr. Trojan, I'm saying quite plainly what is
+perfectly true, that I cannot let you have the letters--nothing that
+you can say will change my mind."
+
+And he really didn't know what to say.  He didn't want to have a
+scene--he shrunk timidly from violence of any kind; but he really must
+secure the letters.  How they would laugh at the Club!  Why, he could
+hear the guffaws of all Pendragon!  London would be one enormous scream
+of laughter!--all Europe would be amused! and to his excited fancy Asia
+and Africa seemed to join the chorus!  A Trojan and a common girl in a
+breach of promise case!  A Trojan!
+
+"I say," he stammered, "you don't know how serious it is.  People will
+laugh, you know, if you bring the case on.  Of course it was silly of
+him--Robin, I mean.  I can't conceive myself how he ever came to do
+such a thing.  Boys will be boys, and you're rather pretty, my dear.
+But, bless me, if we were to take all these little things seriously,
+why, where would some of us be?"  He paused, and hinted impressively at
+a hideous past.  "You _are_ attractive, you know."  He looked at her in
+his most flattering manner--"Quite a nice girl, only you shouldn't take
+it seriously--really you shouldn't."
+
+This manner of speech was a great deal more offensive than the other,
+and Dahlia got up, her cheeks flushed--
+
+"That is enough, Mr. Trojan.  I think this had better come to an end.
+I can only repeat what I have said already, that I cannot give you the
+letters--and, indeed, if I had ever intended to do so, your last
+speech, at least, would have changed my mind--I am sorry that I cannot
+oblige you, but there is really nothing further to be said."
+
+He tried to stammer something; he faced her for a moment and
+endeavoured to be indignant, and then, to his own intense astonishment,
+found that he was walking down the stairs with the drawing-room door
+closed behind him.  How amazing!--but he had done his best, and, if he
+had failed, why, after all, no other man could have succeeded any
+better.  And she really was rather bewitching--he had not expected
+anything quite like that.  What had he expected?  He did not know, but
+he thought of his softly-carpeted, nicely-cushioned room with
+pleasurable anticipation.  He would fling himself into his book when he
+got back ... he had several rather neat ideas....  He noticed, with
+pleasure, that the young man standing by the door of Mead's Groceries
+touched his hat very respectfully, and Twitchett, his tailor, bowed.
+Come, come!  There were a few people left who had some sense of Trojan
+supremacy.  It wasn't such a bad world!  He would have tea in his
+room--not with Clare--and crumpets--yes, he liked crumpets.
+
+Dahlia went back to her work with a sigh.  What, she wondered, would be
+the next move?  It had not been quite so amusing as she had expected,
+but it had been a little more exciting.  For she had a curious feeling
+in it all, that she was fighting Harry Trojan's battles.  These were
+the people that had insulted him just as they had insulted her, and now
+they would have to pay for it, they would have to go to him as they had
+gone to her and crawl on their knees.  But what a funny situation!
+That she should play the son for the father, and that she should be
+able to look at her own love affair so calmly!  Poor Robin--he had
+taught her a great deal, and now it was time for him to learn his own
+lesson.  For her the episode was closed and she was looking forward to
+the future.  She would work and win her way and have done with
+sentiment.  Friendship was the right thing--the thing that the world
+was meant for--but _Love_--Ah! that wounded so much more than it
+blessed!
+
+But she was to have further experiences--the Trojan family had not done
+with her yet.  Garrett had been absent barely more than half an hour
+when the servant again appeared at the door with, "Miss Trojan, Miss
+Dahlia, would like to see yer and is waiting in the 'all."  Her hand
+twitching at her apron and mouth gaping with astonishment testified to
+her curiosity.  For weeks the house had been unvisited and now, in a
+single day--!
+
+"Show her up, Annie!"
+
+She was a little agitated; Garrett had been simple enough and even
+rather amusing, but Clare Trojan was quite another thing.  She was,
+Dahlia knew, the head of the family and a woman of the world.  But
+Dahlia clenched her teeth; it was this person who was responsible for
+the whole affair--for the father's unhappiness, for the son's
+disloyalty.  It was she who had been, as it were, behind Robin's
+halting speeches concerning inequality and one's duty to the family.
+Here was the head of the House, and Dahlia held the cards.
+
+But Clare was very calm and collected as she entered the room.  She had
+decided that a personal interview was necessary, but had rather
+regretted that it could not be conducted by letter.  But still if you
+had to deal with that kind of person you must put up with their
+methods, and having once made up her mind about a thing she never
+turned back.
+
+She hated the young person more bitterly than she had ever hated any
+one, and she would have heard of her death with no shadow of pity but
+rather a great rejoicing.  In the first place, the woman had come
+between Clare and Robin; secondly, she threatened the good name of the
+family; thirdly, she was forcing Clare to do several things that she
+very much disliked doing.  For all these reasons the young person was
+too bad to live--but she had no intention of being uncivil.  Although
+this was her first experience of diplomacy, she had very definite ideas
+as to how such things ought to be conducted, and civility would hide a
+multitude of subtleties.  Clare meant to be very subtle, very kind,
+and, once the letters were in her hand, very unrelenting.
+
+She was wearing a very handsome dress of grey silk with a large picture
+hat with grey feathers: she entered the room with a rustle, and the
+sweep of the skirts spoke of infinite condescension.
+
+"Miss Feverel, I believe--" she held out her hand--"I am afraid this is
+a most unceremonious hour for a call, and if I have interrupted you in
+your work, pray go on.  I wouldn't for the world.  What a day, hasn't
+it been?  I always think that these sort of grey depressing days are so
+much worse than the downright pouring ones, don't you?  You are always
+expecting, you know, and then nothing ever comes."
+
+Dahlia looked rather nervous in the window, and on her face there
+fluttered a rather uncertain smile.
+
+"Yes," she said, a little timidly; "but I think that most of the days
+here are grey."
+
+"Ah, you find that, do you?  Well, now, that's strange, because I must
+say that I haven't found that my own experience--and Cornwall, you
+know, is said to be the land of colour--the English Riviera some,
+rather prettily, call it--and St. Ives, you know, along the coast is
+quite a place for painters because of the colour that they get there."
+
+Dahlia said "Yes," and there was a pause.  Then Clare made her plunge.
+
+"You must wonder a little, Miss Feverel, what I have come about.  I
+really must apologise again about the hour.  But I won't keep you more
+than a moment; and it is all quite a trivial matter--so trivial that I
+am ashamed to disturb you about it.  I would have written, but I
+happened to be passing and--so--I came in."
+
+"Yes?" said Dahlia.
+
+"Well, it's about some letters.  Perhaps you have forgotten that my
+nephew, Robert Trojan, wrote to you last summer.  He tells me that you
+met last summer at Cambridge and became rather well acquainted, and
+that after that he wrote to you for several months.  He tells me that
+he wrote to you asking you to return his letters, and that you,
+doubtless through forgetfulness, failed to reply.  He is naturally a
+little nervous about writing to you again, and so I thought that--as I
+was passing--I would just come and see you about the matter.  But I am
+really ashamed to bother you about anything so trivial."
+
+"No," answered Dahlia, "I didn't forget--I wrote--answered Robin's
+letter."
+
+"Ah! you did?  Then he must have misunderstood you.  He certainly gave
+me to understand----"
+
+"Yes, I wrote to Robin saying that I was sorry--but I intended to keep
+the letters."
+
+Clare paused and looked at her sharply.  This was the kind of thing
+that she had expected; of course the young person would bluff and stand
+out for a tall price, which must, if necessary, be paid to her.
+
+"But, Miss Feverel, surely"--she smiled deprecatingly--"that can't be
+your definite answer to him.  Poor Robin!--surely he is entitled to
+letters that he himself has written."
+
+"Might I ask, Miss Trojan, why you are anxious that they should be
+returned?"
+
+"Oh, merely a whim--nothing of any importance.  But Robin feels, as I
+am sure you must, that the whole episode--pleasant enough at the time,
+no doubt--is over, and he feels that it would be more completely closed
+if the letters were destroyed."
+
+"Ah! but there we differ!" said Dahlia sharply.  "That's just what I
+don't feel about it.  I value those letters, Miss Trojan, highly."
+
+Now what, thought Clare, exactly was she?  Number One, the intriguing
+adventuress?  Number Two, the outraged woman?  Number Three, the
+helpless girl clinging to her one support?  Now, of Numbers One and Two
+Clare had had no experience.  Such persons had never come her way, and
+indeed of Number Three she could know very little; so she escaped from
+generalities and fixed her mind on the actual girl in front of her.
+This was most certainly no intriguing adventuress.  Clare had quite
+definite ideas about that class of person; but she very possibly was
+the outraged female.  At any rate, she would act on that conclusion.
+
+"My dear young lady," she said softly, "you must not think that I do
+not sympathise.  I do indeed, from the bottom of my heart.  Robin has
+behaved abominably, and any possible reparation we, as a family, will
+gladly pay.  I think, however, that you are a little hard on him.  He
+was young, so were you; and it is very easy for us--we women
+especially--to mistake the reality of our affection.  Robin at any rate
+made a mistake and saw it--and frankly told you so.  It was
+wrong--very; but I cannot help feeling--forgive me if I speak rather
+plainly--that it would be equally wrong on your part if you were to
+indulge any feeling of revenge."
+
+"There is not," said Dahlia, "any question of revenge."
+
+"Ah," said Clare brightly, "you will let me have the letters, then?"
+
+"I cannot," Dahlia answered gravely.  "Really, Miss Trojan, I'm afraid
+that we can gain nothing by further discussion.  I have looked at the
+matter from every point of view, and I'm afraid that I can come to no
+other decision."
+
+Clare stared in front of her.  What was to be her next move?  Like
+Garrett, she had been brought to a standstill by Dahlia's direct
+refusal.  Viewing the matter indefinitely, from the security of her own
+room, it had seemed to her that the girl would be certain to give way
+at the very mention of the Trojan name.  She would face Robin--yes,
+that was natural enough, because, after all, he was only a boy and had
+no knowledge of the world and the proper treatment of such a case--but
+when it came to the head of the family with all the influence of the
+family behind her, then instant submission seemed inevitable.
+
+Clare was forced to realise that instant submission was very far away
+indeed, and that the girl sitting quietly in the window showed little
+sign of yielding.  She sat up a little straighter in her chair and her
+voice was a little sharper.
+
+"It seems then, Miss Feverel, that it is a question of terms.  But why
+did you not say so before?  I would have told you at once that we are
+willing to pay a very considerable sum for the return of the letters."
+
+Dahlia's face flushed, and after a moment's pause she rose from her
+chair and walked towards Clare.
+
+"Miss Trojan," she said quietly, "I have no intention of taking money
+for them--or, indeed, of taking anything."
+
+"I'm sure," broke in Clare, flushing slightly, "_I_ had no intention
+of----"
+
+"Ah--no, I know," went on Dahlia.  "But it is not, I assure you, a case
+for melodrama--but a very plain, simple little affair that is happening
+everywhere all the time.  You say that you cannot understand why I
+should wish to keep the letters.  Let me try and explain, and also let
+me try and urge on you that it is really no good at all trying to
+change my mind.  It is now several days since I had my last talk with
+Robin, and I have, of course, thought a good deal about it--it is
+scarcely likely that half-an-hour's conversation with you will change a
+determination that I have arrived at after ten days' hard thinking.
+And surely it is not hard to understand.  Six months ago I was happy
+and inexperienced.  I had never been in love, and, indeed, I had no
+idea of its meaning.  Then your nephew came: he made love to me, and I
+loved him in return."
+
+She paused for a moment.  Clare looked sympathetic.  Then Dahlia
+continued: "He meant no harm, no doubt, and perhaps for the time he was
+quite serious in what he said.  He was, as you say, very young.  But it
+was a game to him--it was everything to me.  I treasured his letters, I
+thought of them day and night.  I--but, of course, you know the kind of
+thing that a girl goes through when she is in love for the first time.
+Then I came here and went through some bad weeks whilst he was making
+up his mind to tell me that he loved me no longer.  Of course, I saw
+well enough what was happening--and I knew why it was--it was the
+family at his back."
+
+A murmur from Clare.  "I assure you, Miss Feverel."
+
+"Oh yes, Miss Trojan, you don't suppose that I cared for you very much
+during those weeks.  I suffered a little, too, and it changed me from a
+girl into a woman--rather too quickly to be altogether healthy,
+perhaps.  And then he came and told me in so many words.  I thought at
+first that it had broken my heart; a girl does, you know, when it
+happens the first time, but you needn't be afraid--my heart's all
+right--and I wouldn't marry Robin now if he begged me to.  But it had
+hurt, all of it, and perhaps one's pride had suffered most of all--and
+so, of course, I kept the letters.  It was the one way that I could
+hurt you.  I'm frank, am I not?--but every woman would do the same.
+You see you are so very proud, you Trojans!
+
+"It is not only that you thank God that you are not as other men, but
+you are so bent on making the rest of us call out 'Miserable sinner!'
+very loudly and humbly.  And we don't believe it.  Why should we?
+Everybody has their own little bits o' things that they treasure, and
+they don't like being told that they're of no value at all.  Why, Miss
+Trojan, I'm quite a proud person really--you'd be surprised if you
+knew."
+
+She laughed, and then sat down on the sofa opposite Clare, with her
+chin resting on her hand.
+
+"So you see, Miss Trojan, it's natural, after all, that I kept the
+letters."
+
+Clare had listened to the last part of her speech in silence, her lips
+firmly closed, her hands folded on her lap.  As she listened to her she
+knew that it was quite hopeless, that nothing that she could ever say
+would change the young person's mind.  She was horribly disappointed,
+of course, and it would be terrible to be forced to return to Robin,
+and tell him that she had failed: for the first time she would have to
+confess failure--but really she could not humble herself any longer:
+she was not sure that, even now, she had not unbent a little more than
+was necessary.  If the young person refused to consider the question of
+terms there was no more to be said--and how dare she talk about the
+Trojans in that way?
+
+"Really, Miss Feverel, I scarcely think that it is necessary for us to
+enter into a discussion of that kind, is it?  I daresay you have every
+reason for personal pride--but really that is scarcely my affair, is
+it?  If no offer of money can tempt you--well, really, there the matter
+must rest, mustn't it?  Of course I am sorry, but you know your own
+mind.  But that you should think yourself insulted by such an offer is,
+it seems to me, a little absurd.  It is quite obvious what you mean to
+do with them."
+
+Dahlia smiled.
+
+"Is it?" she said.  "That is very clever of you, Miss Trojan.  I am
+sorry that you should have so much trouble for such a little result."
+
+"There is no more to be said," answered Clare, moving to the door.
+"Good morning," and she was gone.
+
+"Oh dear," said Dahlia, as she went back to the window, "how unpleasant
+she is.  Poor Robin!  What a time he will have!"
+
+For her the pathos was over, but for them--well--it had not begun.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+The question of the Cove was greatly agitating the mind of Pendragon.
+Meetings had been held, a scheme had been drawn up, and it would appear
+that the thing was settled.  It had been conclusively proved that two
+rows of lodging-houses where the Cove now stood would be an excellent
+thing.  The town was over-crowded--it must spread out in some
+direction, and the Cove-end was practically the only possible place for
+spreading.
+
+The fishery had been declining year by year, and it was hinted at the
+Club that it would be rather a good thing if it declined until it
+vanished altogether; the Cove was in no sense of the word useful, and
+by its lack of suitable drainage and defective protection from weather,
+it was really something of a scandal,--it formed, as Mr. Grayseed, pork
+butcher and mayor of the town, pointed out, the most striking contrast
+with the upward development so marked in Pendragon of late years.  He
+called the Cove an "eyesore" and nearly proclaimed it an "anomaly"--but
+was restrained by the presence of his wife, a nervous woman who
+followed her husband with difficulty in his successful career, and
+checked his language when the length of his words threatened their
+accuracy.
+
+The town might be said to be at one on these points, and there was no
+very obvious reason why the destruction of the Cove should not be
+proceeded with--but, still, nothing was done.  It was said by a few
+that the Cove was picturesque and undoubtedly attracted strangers by
+the reason of its dirty, crooked streets and bulging doorways--an odd
+taste, they admitted, but nevertheless undoubted and of commercial
+importance.  On posters Pendragon was described as "the picturesque
+abode of old-time manners and customs," and Baedeker had a word about
+"charming old-time byways and an old Inn, the haunt, in earlier times,
+of smugglers and freebooters."  Now this was undoubtedly valuable, and
+it would be rather a pity were it swept away altogether.  Perhaps you
+might keep the Inn--it might even be made into a Museum for relics of
+old Pendragon--bits of Cornish crosses, stones, some quaint drawings of
+the old town, now in the possession of Mr. Quilter, the lawyer.
+
+The matter was much discussed at the Club, and there was no doubt as to
+the feeling of the majority; let the Cove go--let them replace it with
+a smart row of red-brick villas, each with its neat strip of garden and
+handsome wooden paling.
+
+Harry had learnt to listen in silence.  He knew, for one thing, that no
+one would pay very much attention if he did speak, and then, of late,
+he had been flung very much into himself and his reserve had grown from
+day to day.  People did not want to listen to him--well, he would not
+trouble them.  He felt, too, as Newsome had once said to him, that he
+belonged properly to "down-along," and he knew that he was out of touch
+with the whole of that modern movement that was going on around him.
+But sometimes, as he listened, his cheeks burned when they talked of
+the Cove, and he longed to jump up and plead its defence; but he knew
+that it would be worse than useless and he held himself in--but they
+didn't know, they didn't know.  It enraged him most when they spoke of
+it as some lifeless, abstract thing, some old rubbish-heap that
+offended their sight, and then he thought of its beauties, of the
+golden sand and the huddling red and grey cottages clustering over the
+sea as though for protection.  You might fancy that the waves slapped
+them on the back for good-fellowship when they dashed up against the
+walls, or kissed them for love when they ran in golden ripples and
+softly lapped the stones.
+
+On the second night after his visit to Dahlia Feverel, Harry went down,
+after dinner, to the Cove.  He found those evening hours, before going
+to bed, intolerable at the House.  The others departed to their several
+rooms and he was suffered to go to his, but the loneliness and
+dreariness made reading impossible and his thoughts drove him out.  He
+had lately been often at the Inn, for this was the hour when it was
+full, and he could sit in a corner and listen without being forced to
+take any part himself.  To-night a pedlar and a girl--apparently his
+daughter--were entertaining the company, and even the melancholy sailor
+with one eye seemed to share the feeling of gaiety and chuckled
+solemnly at long intervals.  It was a scene full of colour; the lamps
+in the window shone golden through the haze of smoke on to the black
+beams of the ceiling, the dust-red brick of the walls and floor, and
+the cavernous depths of the great fireplace.  Sitting cross-legged on
+the table in the centre of the room was the pedlar, a little, dark,
+beetle-browed man, and at his side were his wares, his pack flung open,
+and cloths of green and gold and blue and red flung pell-mell at his
+side.  Leaning against the table, her hands on her hips, was the girl,
+dark like her father, tall and flat-chested, with a mass of black hair
+flung back from her forehead.  No one knew from what place they had
+come nor whither they intended to go--such a visit was rare enough in
+these days of trains--and the little man's reticence was attacked again
+and again, but ever unsuccessfully.  There were perhaps twenty sailors
+in the room, and they sat or stood by the fireplace watching and
+listening.
+
+Harry slipped in and took his place by Newsome in the corner.
+
+"I will sing," said the girl.
+
+She stood away from the table and flung up her head--she looked
+straight into the fire and swayed her body to the time of her tune.
+Her voice was low, so that men bent forward in order that they might
+hear, and the tune was almost a monotone, her voice rising and falling
+like the beating of the sea, with the character of her words.  She sang
+of a Cornish pirate, Coppinger, "Cruel Coppinger," and of his deeds by
+land and sea, of his daring and his cleverness and his brutality, and
+the terror that he inspired, and at last of his pursuit by the king's
+cutter and his utter vanishing "no man knew where."  But gradually as
+her song advanced Coppinger was forgotten and her theme became the
+sea--she spoke like one possessed, and her voice rose and fell like the
+wind--all Time and Place were lost.  Harry felt that he was unbounded
+by tradition of birth or breeding, and he knew that he was absolutely
+as one of these others with him in the room--that he felt that call of
+those old gods just as they did.  The girl ceased and the room was
+silent.  Through the walls came the sound of the sea--in the fire was
+the crackling of the coals, and down the great chimney came a little
+whistle of the wind.  "A mighty fine pome 'tis fur sure," said the
+white-bearded sailor solemnly, "and mostly wonderful true."  He sighed.
+"They'm changed times," he said.
+
+The girl sat on the table at her father's side, watching them
+seriously.  She flung her arms behind her head and then suddenly--
+
+"I can dance too," she said.
+
+They pulled the table back and watched her.
+
+It was something quite simple and unaffected--not, perhaps, in any way
+great dancing, but having that quality, so rarely met with, of being
+exactly right and suited to time and place.  Her arms moved in ripples
+like the waves of the sea--every part of her body seemed to join in the
+same motion, but quietly, with perfect tranquillity, without any sense
+of strain or effort.  The golden lamps, the coloured clothes, the
+red-brick floor, made a background of dazzling colour, and her black
+hair escaped and fell in coils over her neck and shoulders.
+
+Suddenly she stopped.  "There, that's all," she said, binding her hair
+up again with quick fingers.  She walked over to the sailors and talked
+to them with perfect freedom and ease; at last she stayed by the
+handsomest of them--a dark, well-built young fellow, who put his arm
+round her waist and shared his drink with her.
+
+Harry, as he watched them, felt strangely that it was for him a scene
+of farewell--that it was for the last time that the place was to offer
+him such equality or that he himself would be in a position to accept
+it.  He did not know why he had this feeling--perhaps it was the talk
+of the Club about the Cove, or his own certain conviction that matters
+at the House were rapidly approaching a crisis.  Yes, his own protests
+were of no avail--things must move, and perhaps, after all, it were
+better that they should.
+
+Bethel came in, and as usual joined the group at the fire without a
+word; he looked at the pedlar curiously and then seemed to recognise
+him--then he went up to him and soon they were in earnest conversation.
+It grew late, and at the stroke of midnight Newsome rose to shut up the
+house.
+
+"I will go back with you," Bethel said to Harry, and they walked to the
+door together.  For a moment Harry turned back.  The girl was bending
+over the sailor--her arms were round his neck, and his head was tilted
+back to meet her mouth; the pedlar was putting his wares into his pack
+again, but some pieces of yellow and blue silk had escaped him and lay
+on the floor at his feet; down the street three of the sailors were
+tramping home, and the chorus of a chanty died away as they turned the
+corner.
+
+The girl, the pedlar, the colours of the room, the vanishing song,
+remained with Harry to the end of his life--for that moment marked a
+period.
+
+As he walked up the hill he questioned Bethel about the pedlar.
+
+"Oh, I had met him," he said vaguely.  "One knows them all, you know.
+But it is difficult to remember where.  He is one of the last of his
+kind and an amusing fellow enough----"  But he sighed--"I am out of
+sorts to-night--my kite broke.  Do you know, Trojan, there are times
+when one thinks that one has at last got right back--to the power, I
+mean, of understanding the meaning and truth of things--and then,
+suddenly, it has all gone and one is just where one was years ago and
+it seems wasted.  I tell you, man, last night I was on the moor and it
+was alive with something.  I can't tell you what--but I waited and
+watched--I could feel them growing nearer and nearer, the air was
+clearer--their voices were louder--and then suddenly it was all gone.
+But of course you won't understand--none of you--why should you?  You
+think that I am flying a kite--why, I am scaling the universe!"
+
+"Whatever you are doing," said Harry seriously, "you are not keeping
+your family.  Look here, Bethel, you asked me once if I would be a
+friend of yours.  Well, I accepted that, and we have been good friends
+ever since.  But it really won't do--this kind of thing, I mean.
+Scaling the universe is all very well, if you are a single man--then it
+is your own look-out; but you are married--you have people depending on
+you, and they will soon be starving."
+
+Bethel burst out laughing.
+
+"They've got you, Trojan!  They've got you!" he cried.  "I knew it
+would come sooner or later, and it hasn't taken long.  Three weeks and
+you're like the rest of them.  No, you mustn't talk like that, really.
+Tell me I'm a damned fool--no good--an absolutely rotten type of
+fellow--and it's all true enough.  But you must accept it at that.  At
+least I'm true to my type, which is more than the rest of them are, the
+hypocrites!--and as to my family, well, of course I'm sorry, but
+they're happy enough and know me too well to have any hope of ever
+changing me----"
+
+"No--of course, I don't want to preach.  I'm the last man to tell any
+one what they should do, seeing the mess that I've made of things
+myself.  But look here, Bethel, I like you--I count myself a friend,
+and what are friends for if they're not to speak their minds?"
+
+"Oh!  That's all right enough.  Go on--I'll listen."  He resigned
+himself with a humorous submission as though he were indulging the
+opinions of a child.
+
+"Well, it isn't right, you know--it isn't really.  I don't want to tell
+you that you're a fool or a rotter, because you aren't, but that's just
+what makes it so disappointing for any one who cares about you.  You're
+letting all your finer self go.  You're becoming, what they say you
+are, a waster.  Of course, finding yourself's all right--every man
+ought to do that.  But you have no right to throw off all claims as
+completely as you have done.  Life isn't like that.  We've all got our
+Land of Promise, and, just in order that it may remain, we are never
+allowed to reach it.  Whilst you are lying on your back on the moor,
+your wife and daughter are killing themselves in order to keep the home
+together--I say that it is not fair."
+
+"Oh, come, Trojan," Bethel protested, "is that quite fair on your side?
+Things are all right, you know.  They like it better, they do really.
+Why, if I were to stay at home and try to work they'd think I was going
+to be ill.  Besides, I couldn't--not at an office or anything like
+that.  It isn't my fault, really--but it would kill me now if I
+couldn't get away when I want to--not having liberty would be worse
+than death."
+
+"Ah, that's yourself," said Harry.  "That's selfish.  Why don't you
+think of them?  You can't let things go on as they are, man.  You must
+get something to do."
+
+"I'm damned if I will."  Bethel stopped short and stretched his arms
+wide over the moor.  "It isn't as if it would do them any good, and it
+would kill me.  Why, one is deaf and blind and dumb as soon as one has
+work to do.  I'm a child, you know.  I've never grown up, and of course
+I hadn't any right to marry.  I don't know now why I did.  And all you
+people--you grown-ups--with your businesses and difficult pleasures and
+noisy feasts--of course you can't understand what these things mean.
+Only a few of you who sit with folded hands and listen can know what it
+is.  I saw a picture once--some people feasting in a forest, and
+suddenly a little faun jumped from a tree on to their table and waited
+for them to play with him.  But some were eating and some drinking and
+some talking scandal, and they did not see him.  Only a little boy and
+an old man--they were doing nothing--just dreaming--and they saw him.
+Oh!  I tell you, the dreamer has his philosophy and creed like the rest
+of you!"
+
+"That's all very well," cried Harry.  "But it's a case of bread and
+butter.  You will be bankrupt if you go on as you are!"
+
+"Oh no!" Bethel laughed.  "Providence looks after the dreamers.
+Something always happens--I know something will happen now.  We are on
+the edge of some good fortune.  I can feel it."
+
+The man was incorrigible--there was no doubt of it--but Harry had
+something further to say.
+
+"Well, I want you to let me take a deeper interest in your affairs.
+May I ask your daughter to marry me?"
+
+"What?  Mary?"  Bethel stopped and shouted--"Why!  That's splendid!  Of
+course, that's what Providence has been intending all this time.  The
+very thing, my dear fellow----" and he put his arm on Harry's
+shoulder--"there's no one I'd rather give my girl to.  But it's nothing
+to do with me, really.  She'll know her mind and tell you what she
+feels about it.  Dear me!  Just to think of it!"
+
+He broke out into continuous chuckles all the way home, and seemed to
+regard the whole affair as a great joke.  Harry left him shouting at
+the moon.  He had scarcely meant to speak of it so soon, but the
+thought of her struggle and the knowledge of her father's utter
+indifference decided matters.  He went back to the house, determining
+on an interview in the morning.
+
+Mary meanwhile had been spending an evening that was anything but
+pleasant--she had been going through her accounts and was horrified at
+what she saw.  They were badly overdrawn, most of the shops had refused
+them further credit, and the little income that came to them could not
+hope to cover one-half of their expenses.  What was to be done?  Ruin
+and disgrace stared them in the face.  They might borrow, but there was
+no one to whom she could go.  They must, of course, give up their
+little house and go into rooms, but that would make very little
+difference.  She looked at it from every point of view and could think
+of no easier alternative.  She puzzled until her head ached, and the
+room, misty with figures, seemed to swim round her.  She felt cruelly
+lonely, and her whole soul cried out for Harry--he would help her, he
+would tell her what to do.  She knew now that she loved him with all
+the strength that was in her, that she had always loved him, from the
+first moment that she had known him.  She remembered her promise to him
+that she would come and ask for his help if she really needed it--well,
+perhaps she would, in the end, but now, at least, she must fight it out
+alone.  The first obvious thing was that her parents must know; that
+they would be of any use was not to be expected, but at least they must
+realise on what quicksands their house was built.  They were like two
+children, with no sense whatever of serious consequences and penalties,
+and they would not, of course, realise that they were face to face with
+a brick wall of debts and difficulties and that there was no way
+over--but they must be told.
+
+On the next morning, after breakfast, Mary penned her mother into the
+little drawing-room and broached the subject.  Mrs. Bethel knew that
+something serious was to follow, and sat on the edge of her chair,
+looking exactly like a naughty child convicted of a fault.  She was
+wearing a rather faded dress of bright yellow silk and little yellow
+shoes, which she poked out from under her dress every now and again and
+regarded with a complacent air.
+
+"They are really not so shabby, Mary, my dear--not nearly so shabby as
+the blue ones, and a good deal more handsome--don't you think so, my
+dear?  But you say you want to talk about something, so I'll be
+quiet--only if you wouldn't mind being just a little quick because
+there are, really, so many things to be done this morning, that it
+puzzles me how----"
+
+"Yes, mother, I know.  But there is something I want to say.  I won't
+be long, only it's rather important."
+
+"Yes, dear--only don't scold.  You look as if you were going to scold.
+I can always tell by that horrid line you have, dear, in your forehead.
+I know I've done something I oughtn't to, but what it is unless it's
+those red silks I bought at Dixon's on Friday, and they were so cheap,
+only----"
+
+"No, mother, it's nothing you've done.  It's rather what I've done, or
+all of us.  We are all in the same boat.  It's my managing, I suppose;
+anyhow, I've made a mess of it and we're very near the end of the rope.
+There doesn't seem any outlook anywhere.  We're overdrawn at the bank;
+they won't give us credit in the town, and I don't see where any's to
+come from."
+
+"Oh, it's money!  Well, my dear, of course it is provoking--such a
+horrid thing to have to worry about; but really I'm quite relieved.  I
+thought it was something I'd done.  You quite frightened me; and I'm
+glad you don't mind about the red silks, because it really was tempting
+with----"
+
+"No, dear, that's all right.  But this is serious.  I've come to the
+end and I want you to help me.  Will you just go through the books with
+me and see if anything can be done?  I'm so tired and worried.  I've
+been going at them so long that I daresay I've muddled it.  It mayn't
+be quite so hopeless as I've made out."
+
+"The books!  My dear Mary----"  Mrs. Bethel looked at her daughter
+pathetically.  "You know that I've no head for figures.  Why, when
+mother died at home--we were in Chertsey then, Frank and Doris and
+I--and I tried to manage things, you know, it was really too absurd.  I
+used to make the most ridiculous mistakes and Frank said that the
+village people did just what they liked with me, and I remember old
+Mrs. Blenkinsop charging me for eggs after the first month at quite an
+outrageous rate because----"
+
+"Yes, mother, I know.  But two heads are better than one, and I am
+really hopelessly puzzled to know what to do."  Mary got up and went
+over to her mother and put her arm round her.  "You see, dear, it is
+serious.  There's no money at all--less than none; and I don't know
+where we are to turn.  There's no outlook at all.  I'm afraid that it's
+no use appealing to father--no use--and so it's simply left for us two
+to do what we can.  It's frightening always doing it alone, and I
+thought you would help me."
+
+"Well, of course, Mary dear, I'll do what I can.  No, I'm afraid that
+it would be no good appealing to your father.  It's strange how very
+little sense he's ever had of money--of the value of it.  I remember in
+the first week that we were married he bought some book or other and we
+had to go without quite a lot of things.  I was angry then, but I've
+learnt since.  It was our first quarrel."
+
+She sighed.  It was always Mrs. Bethel's method of dealing with any
+present problem to flee into the happy land of reminiscence and to stay
+there until the matter had, comfortably or otherwise, settled itself.
+
+"But I shouldn't worry," she said, looking up at her daughter.  "Things
+always turn up, and besides," she added, "you might marry, dear."
+
+"Marry!"  Mary looked up at her mother sharply.  Mrs. Bethel looked a
+little frightened.
+
+"Well, you will, you know, dear, probably--and perhaps--well, if he had
+money----"
+
+"Mother!"  She sprang up from her chair and faced her with flaming
+cheeks.  "Do you mean to say that they are talking about it?"
+
+"They?  Who?  It was only Mrs. Morrison the other day, at tea-time,
+said--that she thought----"
+
+"Mrs. Morrison?  That hateful woman discussing me?  Mother, how could
+you let her?  What did she say?"
+
+"Why, only--I wish you wouldn't look so cross, dear.  It was nothing
+really--only that Mr. Trojan obviously cared a good deal--and it would
+be so nice if----"
+
+"How dare she?" Mary cried again.  "And you think it too, mother--that
+I would go on my knees to him to take us out of our trouble--that I
+would sweep his floors if he would help the family!  Oh!  It's hateful!
+Hateful!"
+
+She flung herself into a chair by the window and burst into tears.
+Mrs. Bethel stared at her in amazement.  "Well, upon my word, my dear,
+one never knows how to take you!  Why, it wasn't as if she'd said
+anything, only that it would be rather nice."  She paused in utter
+bewilderment and seemed herself a little inclined to cry.
+
+At this moment the door opened--Mary sprang up.  "Who is it?" she asked.
+
+"Mr. Henry Trojan, miss, would like to come up if it wouldn't----"
+
+"No.  Tell him, Jane, that----"
+
+But he had followed the servant and appeared in the doorway smiling.
+
+"I knew you wouldn't mind my coming unconventionally like this," he
+said; "it's a terrible hour in the morning--but I felt sure that I
+would catch you."
+
+He had seen at once that there was something wrong, and he stopped
+confusedly in the doorway.
+
+But Mrs. Bethel came forward, smiling nervously.
+
+"Oh, please, Mr. Trojan, do come in.  We always love to see you--you
+know we do--you're one of our real friends--one of our best--and it's
+only too good of you to spare time to come round and see us.  But I am
+busy--it's quite true--one is, you know, in the morning; but I don't
+think that Mary has anything very important immediately.  I think she
+might stop and talk to you," and in a confusion of tittered apologies
+she vanished away.
+
+But he stood in the doorway, waiting for Mary to speak.  She sat with
+her head turned to the window and struggled to regain her self-command;
+they had been talked about in the town.  She could imagine how it had
+gone.  "Oh! the Bethel girl!  Yes, after the Trojan money and doing it
+cleverly too; she'll hook him all right--he's just the kind of man."
+Oh! the hatefulness of it!
+
+"What's up?"  He came forward a little, twisting his hat in his hands.
+
+"Nothing!"  She turned round and tried to smile.  Indeed she almost
+laughed, for he looked so ridiculous standing there--like a great
+schoolboy before the headmaster, his hat turning in his hands; or
+rather, like a collie plunging out of the water and ready to shake
+himself on all and sundry.  As she looked at him she knew that she
+loved him and that she could never marry him because Pendragon thought
+that she had hooked him for his money.
+
+"Yes--there is something.  What is it?"  He had come forward and taken
+her hands.
+
+But she drew them away slowly and sat down on the sofa.  "I'm tired,"
+she said a little defiantly, "that's all--you know if you will come and
+call at such dreadfully unconventional hours you mustn't expect to find
+people with all the paint on.  I never put mine on till lunch----"
+
+"No--it's no good," he answered gravely.  "You're worried, and it's
+wrong of you not to tell me.  You are breaking your promise----"
+
+"I made no promise," she said quickly.
+
+"You did--that day on the moor.  We were to tell each other always if
+anything went wrong.  It was a bargain."
+
+"Well, nothing's wrong.  I'm tired--bothered a bit--the old
+thing--there's more to be bought than we're able to pay for."
+
+"I've come with a proposition," he answered gravely.  "Just a
+suggestion, which I don't suppose you'll consider--but you might--it is
+that you should marry me."
+
+It had come so suddenly that it took her by surprise.  The colour flew
+into her cheeks and then ebbed away again, leaving her whiter than
+ever.  That he should have actually said the words made her heart beat
+furiously, and there was a singing in her ears so that she scarcely
+heard what he said.  He paused a moment and then went on.  "Oh!  I know
+it's absurd when we've only known each other such a little time, and
+I've been telling myself that again and again--but it's no good.  I've
+tried to keep it back, but I simply couldn't help it--it's been too
+strong for me."
+
+He paused again, but she said nothing and he went on.  "I ought to tell
+you about myself, so that you should know, because I'm really a very
+rotten type of person.  I've never done anything yet, and I don't
+suppose I ever shall; I've been a failure at most things, and I'm
+stupid.  I never read the right sort of books, or look at the right
+sort of pictures, or like the right sort of music, and even at the sort
+of things that most men are good at I'm nothing unusual.  I can't
+write, you know, a bit, and in my letters I express myself like a boy
+of fifteen.  And then I'm old--quite middle-aged--although I feel young
+enough.  So that all these things are against me, and it's really a
+shame to ask you."
+
+He paused again, and then he said timidly, bending towards her--
+
+"Could you ever, do you think, give me just a little hope--I wouldn't
+want you to right away at once--but, any time, after you'd thought
+about it?"
+
+She looked up at him and saw that he was shaking from head to foot.
+Her pride was nearly overcome and she wanted to fling herself at his
+feet, and kiss his hands, and never let him go, but she remembered that
+Pendragon had said that she was catching him for his money; so, by a
+great effort, she stayed where she was, and answered quietly, even
+coldly--
+
+"I am more honoured, Mr. Trojan, than I can tell you by your asking me.
+It is much, very much more than I deserve, and, indeed, I'm not in the
+least worthy of it.  I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it's no good.  You see
+I'm such a stupid sort of girl--I muddle things so.  It would never do
+for me to attempt to manage a big place like 'The Flutes'--and then I
+don't think I shall ever marry.  I don't think I am that sort of girl.
+You have been an awfully good friend to me, and I'm more grateful to
+you than I can say.  I can't tell you how much you have helped us all
+during these last weeks.  But I'm afraid I must say no."
+
+The light from the window fell on her hair and the blue of her dress--a
+little gold pin at her throat flashed and sparkled; his eye caught it,
+and was fixed there.
+
+"No--don't say actually no."  He was stammering.  "Please--please.
+Think about it after I have gone away.  I will come again another day
+when you have thought about it.  I'm so stupid in saying things--I
+can't express myself; but, Miss Bethel--Mary--I love you--I love you.
+There isn't much to say about it--I can't express it any better--but,
+please--you mustn't say no like that.  I would be as good a husband to
+you as I could, dear, always.  I'm not the sort of fellow to change."
+
+"No"--she was speaking quickly as though she meant it to be final--"no,
+really, I mean it.  I can't, I can't.  You see one has to feel certain
+about it, hasn't one?--and I don't--not quite like that.  But you are
+the very best friend that I have ever had; don't let it spoil that."
+
+"Perhaps," he said slowly, "it's my age.  You don't feel that you could
+with a man old enough to be your father.  But I'm young--younger than
+Robin.  But I won't bother you about it.  Of course, if you are
+certain----"
+
+He rose and stumbled a moment over the chair as he passed to the door.
+
+"Oh!  I'm so sorry!" she cried.  "I----" and then she had to turn to
+hide her face.  In her heart there was a struggle such as she had never
+faced before.  Her love called her a fool and told her that she was
+flinging her life away--that the ship of her good fortune was sailing
+from her, and it would be soon beyond the horizon; but her pride
+reminded her of what they had said--that she had laid traps for him,
+for his money.
+
+"I am sorry," she said again.  "But it must be only friendship."
+
+But she had forgotten that although her back was turned he was towards
+the mirror.  He could see her--her white face and quivering lips.
+
+He sprang towards her.
+
+"Mary, try me.  I will love you better than any man in God's world,
+always.  I will live for you, and work for you, and die for you."
+
+It was more than she could bear.  She could not reason now.  She was
+only resolved that she would not give way, and she pushed past him
+blindly, her head hanging.
+
+The drawing-room door closed.  He stared dully in front of him.  Then
+he picked up his hat and left the house.
+
+She had flung herself on her bed and lay there motionless.  She heard
+the door close, his steps on the stairs, and then the outer door.
+
+She sprang to the window, and then, moved by some blind impulse, rushed
+to the head of the stairs.  There were steps, and Mrs. Bethel's voice
+penetrated the gloom.  "Mary, Mary, where are you?"
+
+She crept back to her room.
+
+He walked back to "The Flutes" with the one fact ever before him--that
+she had refused him.  He realised now that it had been his love for her
+that had kept him during these weeks sane and brave.  Without it, he
+could not have faced his recent troubles and all the desolate sense of
+outlawry and desolation that had weighed on him so terribly.  Now he
+must face it, alone, with the knowledge that she did not love him--that
+she had told him so.  It was his second rejection--the second flinging
+to the ground of all his defences and walls of protection.  Robin had
+rejected him, Mary had rejected him, and he was absolutely, horribly
+alone.  He thought for a moment of Dahlia Feverel and of her desertion.
+Well, she had faced it pluckily; he would do the same.  Life could be
+hard, but he would not be beaten.  His methods of consolation, his
+pulling of himself together--it was all extremely commonplace, but then
+he was an essentially commonplace man, and saw things unconfusedly, one
+at a time, with no entanglement of motives or complicated searching for
+origins.  He had accepted the fact of his rejection by his family with
+the same clear-headed indifference to side-issues as he accepted now
+his rejection by Mary.  He could not understand "those artist fellows
+with their complications"--life for him was perfectly straight-forward.
+
+But the gods had not done with his day.  On the way up to his room he
+was met by Clare.
+
+"Father is worse," she said quickly.  "He took a turn this morning, and
+now, perhaps, he will not live through the night.  Dr. Turner and Dr.
+Craile are both with him.  He asked for you a little while ago."
+
+She passed down the stairs--the quiet, self-composed woman of every
+day.  It was characteristic of a Trojan that the more agitated outside
+circumstances became the quieter he or she became.  Harry was Trojan in
+this, and, as was customary with him, he put aside his own worries and
+dealt entirely with the matter in hand.
+
+Already, over the house, a change was evident.  In the absolute
+stillness there could be felt the presence of a crisis, and the
+monotonous flap of a blind against some distant window sounded clearly
+down the passages.
+
+In Sir Jeremy's room there was perfect stillness.  The two doctors had
+gone downstairs and the nurse was alone.  "He asked for you, sir," she
+whispered; "he is unconscious again now."
+
+Harry sat down by the bed and waited.  The air was heavy with scents of
+medicine, and the drawn blinds flung grey, ghost-like shadows over the
+bed.  The old man seemed scarcely changed.  The light had gone from his
+eyes and his hand lay motionless on the sheets, and his lips moved
+continually in a never-ceasing murmur.
+
+Suddenly he turned and his eyes opened.  The nurse moved forward.
+"Where's Harry?"  He waved his arm feebly in the air.
+
+"I'm here, father," Harry said quietly.
+
+"Ah, that's good"--he sank back on the pillows again.  "I'm going to
+die, you know, and I'm lonely.  It's damned gloomy--got to die--don't
+want to--but got to."
+
+He felt for his son's hand, found it, and held it.  Then he passed off
+again into half-conscious sleep, and Harry watched, his hand in his
+father's and his thoughts with the girl and the boy who had rejected
+him rather than with the old man who had accepted him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+Meanwhile there was Robin--and he had been spending several very
+unhappy days.  In the gloom of his room, alone and depressed, he had
+been passing things in review.  He had never hitherto felt any very
+burning desire to know how he stood with the world; at school and
+Cambridge he had not thought at all--he had just, as it were, slid into
+things; his surroundings had grouped themselves of their own accord,
+making a delicately appreciative circle with no disturbing element.
+His friends had been of his own kind, the things that he had wished to
+do he had done, his thoughts had been dictated by set forms and
+customs.  This had seemed to him, hitherto, an extraordinarily broad
+outlook; he had never doubted for a moment its splendid infallibility.
+He applied the tests of his set to the world at large, and the world
+conformed.  Life was very easy on such terms, and he had been happy and
+contented.
+
+His meeting with Dahlia had merely lent a little colour to his pleasant
+complacency, and then, when it had threatened to become something more,
+he had ruthlessly cut it out.  This should have been simple enough, and
+he had been at a loss to understand why the affair had left any traces.
+Friends of his at college had had such episodes, and had been mildly
+amused at their rapid conclusion.  He had tried to be mildly amused at
+the conclusion of his own affair, but had failed miserably.  Why? ...
+he did not know.  He must be sensitive, he supposed; then, in that
+case, he had failed to reach the proper standard....  Randal was never
+sensitive.  But there had been other things.
+
+During the last week everything had seemed to be topsy-turvy.  He dated
+it definitely from the arrival of his father.  He recalled the day; his
+tie was badly made, he remembered, and he had been rather concerned
+about it.  How curious it all was; he must have changed since then,
+because now--well, ties seemed scarcely to matter at all.  He saw his
+father standing at the open window watching the lighted town....
+"Robin, old boy, we'll have a good time, you and I..."--and then Aunt
+Clare with her little cry of horror, and his father's hurried apology.
+That had been the beginning of things; one could see how it would go
+from the first.  Had it, after all, been so greatly his father's fault?
+He was surprised to find that he was regarding his uncle and aunt
+critically....  It had been their fault to a great extent--they had
+never given him a chance.  Then he remembered the next morning and his
+own curt refusal to his father's invitation--"He had books to pack for
+Randal!"  How absurd it was, and he wondered why he should have
+considered Randal so important.  He could have waited for the books.
+
+But these things depended entirely on his own sudden discovery that he
+had failed in a crisis--failed, and failed lamentably.  He did not
+believe that Randal would have failed.  Randal would not have worried
+about it for a moment.  What, then, was precisely the difference?  He
+had acted throughout according to the old set formula--he had applied
+all the rules of the game as he had learnt them, and nevertheless he
+had been beaten.  And so there had crept over him gradually, slowly,
+and at last overwhelmingly, the knowledge that the world that he had
+imagined was not the world as it is, that the people he had admired
+were not the only admirable people in it, and that the laws that had
+governed him were only a small fragment of the laws that rule the world.
+
+When this discovery first comes to a man the effect is deadening; like
+a ship that has lost its bearings he plunges in a sea of entangled,
+confused ideas with no assurances as to his own ability to reach any
+safe port whatever.  It is this crisis that marks the change from youth
+to manhood.
+
+Three weeks ago Robin had been absolutely confident, not only in
+himself, but in his relations, his House and his future; now he trusted
+in nothing.  But he had not yet arrived at the point when he could
+regard his own shortcomings as the cause of his unhappiness; he pointed
+to circumstances, his aunt, his uncle, Dahlia, even Randal, and he
+began a search for something more reliable.
+
+Of course, his aunt and uncle might have solved the problem for him; he
+had not dared to question them and they had never mentioned the subject
+themselves, but they did not look as though they had succeeded--he
+fancied that they had avoided him during the last few days.
+
+The serious illness of his grandfather still further complicated
+matters; he was not expected to live through the week.  Robin was
+sorry, but he had never seen very much of his grandfather; and it was,
+after all, only fitting that such a very old man should die some time;
+no, the point really was that his father would in a week's time be Sir
+Henry Trojan and head of the House--that was what mattered.
+
+Now his father was the one person whom he could find no excuse whatever
+for blaming.  He had stood entirely outside the affair from the
+beginning, and, as far as Robin could tell, knew nothing whatever about
+it.  Robin, indeed, had taken care that he should not interfere; he had
+been kept outside from the first.
+
+No, Robin could not blame his father for the state of things; perhaps,
+even, it might have been better if his advice had been asked.
+
+But everything drove him back to the ultimate fact from which, indeed,
+there was no escaping--that there was every prospect of his finding
+himself, within a few weeks' time, the interesting centre of a common
+affair in the Courts for Breach of Promise; and as this ultimate issue
+shone clearer and clearer Robin's terror increased in volume.  To his
+excited fancy, living and dead seemed to turn upon him.  Country
+cousins--the Rev. George Trojan of West Taunton, a clergyman whose
+evangelical tendencies had been the mock of the House; Colonel Trojan
+of Cheltenham, a Port-and-Pepper Indian, as Robin had scornfully called
+him; the Misses Trojan of Southsea, ladies of advanced years and
+slender purses, who always sent him a card at Christmas; Mrs. Adeline
+Trojan of Teignmouth, who had spent her life in beating at the doors of
+London Society and had retired at last, defeated, to the provincial
+gentility of a seaside town--Oh!  Robin had laughed at them all and
+scorned them again and again--and behold how the tables would be
+turned!  And the Dead!  Their scorn would be harder still to bear.  He
+had thought of them often enough and had long ago known their histories
+by heart.  He had gazed at their portraits in the Long Gallery until he
+knew every line of their faces: old Lady Trojan of 1640, a little like
+Rembrandt's "Lady with the Ruff," with her stern mouth and eyes and
+stiff white collar--she must have been a lady of character!  Sir
+Charles Trojan, her son, who plotted for William of Orange and was
+rewarded royally after the glorious Revolution; Lady Gossiter Trojan, a
+woman who had taken active part in the '45, and used "The Flutes" as a
+refuge for intriguing Jacobites; and, best of all, a dim black picture
+of a man in armour that hung over the mantel-piece, a portrait of a
+certain Sir Robert Trojan who had fought in the Barons' Wars and been a
+giant of his times; he had always been Robin's hero and had formed the
+centre of many an imaginary tapestry worked by Robin's brain--and now
+his descendant must pay costs in a Breach of Promise Case!
+
+They had all had their faults, those Trojans; some of them had robbed
+and murdered with little compunction, but they had always had their
+pride, they had never done anything really low--what they had done they
+had done with a high hand; Robin would be the first of the family to
+let them down.  And it was rather curious to think that, three weeks
+ago, it had been his father who was going to let them down.  Robin
+remembered with what indignation he had heard of his father's visits to
+the Cove, his friendship with Bethel and the rest--but surely it was
+they who had driven him out!  It was their own doing from the first--or
+rather his aunt and uncle's.  He was beginning to be annoyed with his
+aunt and uncle.  He felt vaguely that they had got him into the mess
+and were quite unable to pull him out again; which reflection brought
+him back to the original main business, namely, that there was a mess,
+and a bad one.
+
+It was one of his qualities of youth that he could not wait; patience
+was an utterly unlearned virtue, and this desperate uncertainty, this
+sitting like Damocles under a sword suspended by a hair, was hard to
+bear.  What was Dahlia doing?  Had she already taken steps?  He watched
+every post with terror lest it should contain a lawyer's writ.  He had
+the vaguest ideas about such things ... perhaps they would put him in
+prison.  To his excited fancy the letters seemed enormous--horrible,
+black, menacing, large for all the world to see.  What had Aunt Clare
+done?  His uncle?  And then, last of all, had his father any suspicions?
+
+Whether it was the London tailor, or simply the reassuring hand of
+custom, his father was certainly not the uncouth person he had seemed
+three weeks ago; in fact, Robin was beginning to think him rather
+handsome--such muscles and such a chest!--and he really carried himself
+very well, and indeed, loose, badly-made clothes suited him rather
+well.  And then he had changed so in other ways; there was none of that
+overwhelming cheerfulness, that terrible hail-fellow-well-met kind of
+manner now; he was brief and to the point, he seldom smiled, and surely
+it wasn't to be wondered at after the way in which they had treated him
+at the family council a week ago.
+
+There had been several occasions lately on which Robin would have liked
+to have spoken to his father.  He had begun, once, after breakfast, a
+halting conversation, but he had only received monosyllables as a
+reply--the thing had broken down painfully.  And so he went down to his
+aunt.
+
+It was her room again, and she was having tea with Uncle Garrett.
+Robin remembered the last occasion, only a week ago, when he had made
+his confession.  He had been afraid of hurting his aunt then, he
+remembered.  He did not mind very much now ... he saw his aunt and
+uncle as two people suddenly grown effete, purposeless, incapable.
+They seemed to have changed altogether, which only meant that he was,
+at last, finding himself.
+
+There hung a gloom over Clare's tea-table, partly, no doubt, because of
+Sir Jeremy--the old man with the wrinkled hands and parchment face
+seemed to follow one, noiselessly, remorselessly, through every passage
+and into every room ... but there was also something else--that tension
+always noticeable in a room where people whose recent action towards
+some common goal is undeclared are gathered together; they were waiting
+for some one else to make the next move.
+
+And it was Robin who made it, asking at once, as he dropped the sugar
+into his cup and balanced for a moment the tongs in the air: "Well,
+Aunt Clare, what have you done?"
+
+She noticed at once that he asked it a little scornfully, as though
+assured beforehand that she had done very little.  There was a note of
+antagonism in the way that he had spoken, a hint, even, of challenge.
+She knew at once that he had changed during the last week, and again,
+knowing as she did of her failure with the girl, and guessing perhaps
+at its probable sequence, she hated Harry from the bottom of her heart.
+
+"Done?  Why, how, Robin dear?  I don't advise those tea-cakes--they're
+heavy.  I must speak to Wilson--she's been a little careless lately;
+those biscuits are quite nice.  Done, dear?"
+
+"Yes, aunt--about Miss Feverel.  No, I don't want anything to eat,
+thanks--it seems only an hour or so since lunch--yes--about--well,
+those letters?"
+
+Clare looked up at him pleadingly.  He was speaking a little like
+Harry; she had noticed during the last week that he had several things
+in common with his father--little things, the way that he wrinkled his
+forehead, pushed back his hair with his hand; she was not sure that it
+was not conscious imitation, and indeed it had seemed to her during the
+last week that every day drew him further from herself and nearer to
+Harry.  She had counted on this affair as a means of reclaiming him,
+and now she must confess failure--Oh! it was hard!
+
+"Well, Robin, I have tried----"  She paused.
+
+"Well?" he said drily, waiting.
+
+"I'm afraid it wasn't much of a success," she said, trying to laugh.
+"I suppose that really I'm not good at that sort of thing."
+
+"At what sort of thing?"
+
+He stood over her like a judge, the certainty of her failure the only
+thing that he could grasp.  He did not recognise her own love for him,
+her fear lest he should be angry; he was merciless as he had been three
+weeks ago with his father, as he had been with Dahlia Feverel, and for
+the same reason--because each had taken from him some of that armour of
+self-confidence in which he had so greatly trusted; the winds of the
+heath were blowing about him and he stood, stripped, shivering, before
+the world.
+
+"She was not good at that sort of thing"--that was exactly it, exactly
+the summary of his new feeling about his aunt and uncle; they were not
+able to cope with that hard, new world into which he had been so
+suddenly flung--they were, he scornfully considered, "tea-table"
+persons, and in so judging them he condemned himself.
+
+"I'm so very sorry, dear.  I did my very best.  I went to see
+the--um--Miss Feverel, and we talked about them.  But I'm afraid that I
+couldn't persuade her--she seemed determined----"
+
+"What did she say?"
+
+"Oh, very little--only that she considered that the letters were hers
+and that therefore she had every right to keep them if she liked.  She
+seemed to attach some especial, rather sentimental value to them, and
+considered, apparently, that it would be quite impossible to give them
+up."
+
+"How was she looking--ill?"  It had been one of Robin's consolations
+during these weeks to imagine her pale, wretched, broken down.
+
+"Oh no, extremely well.  She seemed rather amused at the whole affair.
+I was not there very long."
+
+"And is that all you have done?  Have you, I mean, taken any other
+steps?"
+
+"Yes--I wrote yesterday morning.  I got an answer this morning."
+
+"What was it?" Robin spoke eagerly.  Perhaps his aunt had some surprise
+in store and would produce the letters suddenly; surely Dahlia would
+not have written unless she had relented.
+
+Clare went to her writing-table and returned with the letter, held
+gingerly between finger and thumb.
+
+"I'm afraid it's not very long," she said, laughing nervously, and
+again looking at Robin appealingly.  "I had written asking her to think
+over what she had said to me the day before.  She says:
+
+
+"'DEAR Miss TROJAN--Surely the matter is closed after what happened the
+other day?  I am extremely sorry that you should be troubled by my
+decision; but it is, I am afraid, unalterable.--Yours truly,
+
+D. FEVEREL.'"
+
+
+"Her decision?" cried Robin quickly.  "Had she told you anything?  Had
+she decided anything?"
+
+"Only that she would keep the letters," answered Clare slowly.  "You
+couldn't expect me, Robin dear, to argue with her about it.  One had,
+after all, one's dignity."
+
+"Oh! it's no use!" cried Robin.  "She means to use them--of course,
+it's all plain enough; we've just got to face it, I suppose"; and then,
+as a forlorn hope, turning to his uncle--
+
+"You've done nothing, I suppose, Uncle Garrett?"
+
+His uncle had hitherto taken no part in the discussion, but sat intent
+on the book that he was reading.  Now he answered, without looking up--
+
+"Yes--I saw the girl."
+
+"You saw her?" from Clare.
+
+"What!  Dahlia!" from Robin.
+
+"Yes, I called."  He laid the book down on his knee and enjoyed the
+effect of his announcement.  He could be important for a moment at any
+rate, although he must, with his next words, confess failure, so he
+prolonged the situation.  "Some more tea, Clare, please, and not quite
+so strong this time--you might speak about the tea--why not make it
+yourself?"
+
+She took his cup and went over to the tea-table.  She knew how to play
+the game as well as he did, and she showed no astonishment or vulgar
+curiosity, but if he had succeeded where she had failed she must change
+her hand.  She had never thought very much about Garrett; he was a
+thorough Trojan--for that she was very grateful, but he had always been
+more of an emblem to her than a man.  Now if he had got the letters she
+was humiliated indeed.  Robin would despise her for having failed where
+his uncle had succeeded.
+
+"Well, have you got them?"
+
+Robin bent forward eagerly.
+
+"No, not precisely," Garrett answered deliberately.  "But I went to see
+her----"
+
+"With what result?"
+
+"With no precise result--that is to say, she did not promise to
+surrender them--not immediately.  But I have every hope----"  He paused
+mysteriously.
+
+"Of what?"  If his uncle had really a chance of getting them, he was
+not such a fool after all.  Perhaps he was a cleverer man than one gave
+him credit for being.
+
+"Well, of course, one has very little ground for any real assertion,
+but we discussed the matter at some length.  I think I convinced her
+that it would be her wisest course to deliver up the letters as soon as
+might be, and I assured her that we would let the matter rest there and
+take no further steps.  I think she was impressed," and he sipped his
+tea slowly and solemnly.
+
+"Impressed!  Yes, but what has she promised?" Robin cried impatiently.
+He knew Dahlia better than they did, and he did not feel somehow that
+she was very likely to be impressed with Uncle Garrett.  He was not the
+kind of man.
+
+"Promised?  No, not a precise promise--but she was quite pleasant and
+seemed to be open to argument--quite a nice young person."
+
+"Ah! you have done nothing!"  There was a note of relief in Clare's
+exclamation.  "Why not say so at once, Garrett, instead of beating
+about the bush?  There is an end of it.  We have failed, Robin, both of
+us; we are where we were before, and what to do next I really don't
+know."
+
+It was rather a comfort to drag Garrett into it as well.  She was glad
+that he had tried; it made her own failure less noticeable.
+
+Robin looked at both of them, gloomily, from the fireplace.  Aunt
+Clare, handsome, aristocratic, perfectly well fitted to pour out tea in
+any society, but useless, useless, useless when it came to the real
+thing; Uncle Garrett and his eyeglass, trying to make the most of a
+situation in which he had most obviously failed--no, they were no good
+either of them, and three weeks ago they had seemed the ultimate
+standard by which his own life was to be tested.  How quickly one
+learnt!
+
+"Well, what is to be done?" he said desperately.  "It's plain enough
+that she means to stick to the things; and, after all, there can only
+be one reason for her doing it--she means to use them.  I can see no
+way out of it at all--one must just stand up to it."
+
+"We'll think, dear, we'll think," said Clare eagerly.  "Ideas are sure
+to come if we only wait."
+
+"Wait!  But we can't wait!" cried Robin.  "She'll move at once.
+Probably the letters are in the lawyer's hands already."
+
+"Then there's nothing to be done," said Garrett comfortably, settling
+back again into his book--he was, he flattered himself, a man of most
+excellent practical sense.
+
+"No, it really seems, Robin, as if we had better wait," said Clare.
+"We must have patience.  Perhaps after all she has taken no steps."
+
+But Robin was angry.  He had long ago forgotten his share in the
+business; he had adopted so successfully the rôle of injured sufferer
+that his own actions seemed to him almost meritorious.  But he was very
+angry with them.  Here they were, in the face of a family crisis,
+deliberately adopting a policy of _laissez-faire_; he had done his best
+and had failed, but he was young and ignorant of the world (that at
+least he now admitted), but they were old, experienced, wise--or, at
+least, they had always seemed to him to stand for experience and
+wisdom, and yet they could do nothing--nay, worse--they seemed to wish
+to do nothing--Oh! he was angry with them!
+
+The whole room with its silver and knick-knacks--its beautifully worked
+cushions and charming water-colours, its shining rows of complete
+editions and dainty china stood to him now for incapacity.  Three weeks
+ago it had seemed his Holy of Holies.
+
+"But we can't wait," he repeated--"we can't!  Don't you see, Aunt
+Clare, she isn't the sort of girl that waiting does for?  She'd never
+dream of waiting herself."  Dahlia seemed, by contrast with their
+complacent acquiescence, almost admirable.
+
+"Well, dear," Clare answered, "your uncle and I have both tried--I
+think that we may be alarming ourselves unnecessarily.  I must say she
+didn't seem to me to bear any grudge against you.  I daresay she will
+leave things as they are----"
+
+"Then why keep the letters?"
+
+"Oh, sentiment.  It would remind her, you see----"
+
+But Robin could only repeat--"No, she's not that kind of girl," and
+marvel, perplexedly, at their short-sightedness.
+
+And then he approached the point--
+
+"There is, of course," he said slowly, "one other person who might help
+us----"  He paused.
+
+Garrett put his book down and looked up.  Clare leaned towards him.
+
+"Yes?"  Clare looked slightly incredulous of any suggested remedy--but
+apparently composed and a little tired of all this argument.  But, in
+reality, her heart was beating furiously.  Had it come at last?--that
+first mention of his father that she had dreaded for so many days.
+
+"I really cannot think----" from Garrett.
+
+"Why not my father?"
+
+Again it seemed to Clare that she and Harry were struggling for Robin
+... since that first moment of his entry they had struggled--she with
+her twenty years of faithful service, he with nothing--Oh! it was
+unfair!
+
+"But, Robin," she said gently--"you can't--not, at least, after what
+has happened.  This is an affair for ourselves--for the family."
+
+"But _he_ is the family!"
+
+"Well, in a sense, yes.  But his long absence--his different way of
+looking at things--make it rather hard.  It would be better, wouldn't
+it, to settle it here, without its going further."
+
+"To _settle_ it, yes--but we can't--we don't--we are leaving things
+quite alone--waiting--when we ought to do something."
+
+Robin knew that she was showing him that his father was still outside
+the circle--that for herself and Uncle Garrett recent events had made
+no difference.
+
+But was he outside the circle?  Why should he be?  At any rate he would
+soon be head of the House, and then it would matter very little----
+
+"Also," Clare added, "he will scarcely have time just now.  He is with
+father all day--and I don't see what he could do, after all."
+
+"He could see her," said Robin slowly.  He suddenly remembered that
+Dahlia had once expressed great admiration for his father--she was the
+very woman to like that kind of man.  A hurried mental comparison
+between his father and Uncle Garrett favoured the idea.
+
+"He could see her," he said again.  "I think she might like him."
+
+"My dear boy," said Garrett, "take it from me that what a man could do
+I've done.  I assure you it's useless.  Your father is a very excellent
+man, but, I must confess, in my opinion scarcely a diplomat----"
+
+"Well, at any rate it's worth trying," cried Robin impatiently.  "We
+must, I suppose, eat humble pie after the things you said to him, Aunt
+Clare, the other day, but I must confess it's the only chance.  He will
+be decent about it, I'm sure--I think you scarcely realise how nasty it
+promises to be."
+
+"Who is to ask?" said Garrett.
+
+"I will ask him," said Clare suddenly.  "Perhaps after all Robin is
+right--he might do something."
+
+It might, she thought, be the best thing.  Unless he tried, Robin would
+always consider him capable of succeeding--but he should try and
+fail--fail!  Why, of course he would fail.
+
+"Thank you, Aunt Clare."  Robin walked to the door and then turned:
+"Soon would be best"--then he closed the door behind him.
+
+His father was coming down the stairs as he passed through the hall.
+He saw him against the light of the window and he half turned as though
+to speak to him--but his father gave no sign; he looked very
+stern--perhaps his grandfather was dead.
+
+The sudden fear--the terror of death brought very close to him for the
+first time--caught him by the throat.
+
+"He is not dead?" he whispered.
+
+"He is asleep," Harry said, stopping for a moment on the last step of
+the stairs and looking at him across the hall--"I am afraid that he
+won't live through the night."
+
+They had both spoken softly, and the utter silence of the house, the
+heaviness of the air so that it seemed to hang in thick clouds above
+one's head, drove Robin out.  He looked as though he would speak, and
+then, with bent head, passed into the garden.
+
+He felt most miserably lonely and depressed--if he hadn't been so old
+and proud he would have hidden in one of the bushes and cried.  It was
+all so terrible--his grandfather, that weighty, eerie impression of
+Death felt for the first time, the dreadful uncertainty of the Feverel
+affair, all things were quite enough for misery, but this feeling of
+loneliness was new to him.
+
+He had always had friends, but even when they had failed him there had
+been behind them the House--its traditions, its records, its
+history--his aunt and uncle, and, most reassuring of all, himself.
+
+But now all these had failed him.  His friends were vaguely
+unattractive; Randal was terribly superficial, he was betraying the
+House; his aunt and uncle were unsatisfactory, and for himself--well,
+he wasn't quite so splendid as he had once thought.  He was wretchedly
+dissatisfied with it all and felt that he would give all the polish and
+culture in the world for a simple, unaffected friendship in which he
+could trust.
+
+"Some one," he said angrily, "that would do something"--and his
+thoughts were of his father.
+
+It was dark now, and he went down to the sea, because he liked the
+white flash of the waves as they broke on the beach--this sudden
+appearing and disappearing and the rustle of the pebbles as they turned
+slowly back and vanished into the night again.
+
+He liked, too, the myriad lights of the town: the rows of lamps, rising
+tier on tier into the night sky, like people in some great amphitheatre
+waiting in silence for the rising of a mighty curtain.  He always
+thought on these nights of Germany--Germany, Worms, the little
+bookseller, the distant gleam of candles in the Cathedrals, the flash
+of the sun through the trees over the Rhine, the crooked, cobbled
+streets at night with the moon like a lamp and the gabled roofs
+flinging wild shadows over the stones ... the night-sea brought it very
+close and carried Randal and Cambridge and Dahlia Feverel very far
+away, although he did not know why.
+
+He watched the light of the town and the waves and the great flashing
+eye of the lighthouse and then turned back.  As he climbed the steps up
+the cliff he heard some one behind him, and, turning, saw that it was
+Mary Bethel.  She said "Good-night" quickly and was going to pass him,
+but he stopped her.
+
+"I haven't seen you for ages, Mary," he said.  He resolved to speak to
+her.  She knew his father and had always been a good sort--perhaps she
+would help him.
+
+"Are you coming back, Robin?" she said, stopping and smiling.  There
+was a lamp at the top of the cliff where the road ran past the steps,
+and by the light of it he saw that she had been crying.  But he was too
+much occupied with his own affairs to consider the matter very deeply,
+and then girls cried so easily.
+
+"Yes," he said, "let us go round by the road and the Chapel--it's a
+splendid night; besides, we don't seem to have met recently.  We've
+both been busy, I suppose, and I've a good deal to talk about."
+
+"If you like," she said, rather listlessly.  It would, at least, save
+her from her own thoughts and protect her perhaps from the ceaseless
+repetition of that scene of three days ago when she had turned the man
+that she loved more than all the world away and had lied to him because
+she was proud.
+
+And so at first she scarcely listened to him.  They walked down the
+road that ran along the top of the cliff and the great eye of the
+lighthouse wheeled upon them, flashed and vanished; she saw the room
+with its dingy carpet and wide-open window, and she heard his voice
+again and saw his hands clenched--oh! she had been a fine fool!  So it
+was little wonder that she did not hear his son.
+
+But Robin had at last an audience and he knew no mercy.  All the
+agitation of the last week came pouring forth--he lost all sense of
+time and place; he was at the end of the world addressing infinity on
+the subject of his woes, and it says a good deal for his vanity and not
+much for his sense of humour that he did not feel the lack of
+proportion in such a position.
+
+"It was a girl, you know--perhaps you've met her--a Miss
+Feverel--Dahlia Feverel.  I met her at Cambridge and we got rather
+thick, and then I wrote to her--rot, you know, like one does--and when
+I wanted to get back the letters she wouldn't let me have them, and
+she's going to use them, I'm afraid, for--well--Breach of Promise!"
+
+He paused and waited for the effect of the announcement, but it never
+came; she was walking quickly, with her head lifted to catch the wind
+that blew from the sea--he could not be certain that she had heard.
+
+"Breach of Promise!" he repeated impressively.  "It would be rather an
+awful thing for people in our position if it really came to that--it
+would be beastly for me.  Of course, I meant nothing by it--the
+letters, I mean--a chap never does.  Everybody at Cambridge talks to
+girls--the girls like it--but she took it seriously, and now she may
+bring it down on our heads at any time, and you can't think how beastly
+it is waiting for it to come.  We've done all we could--all of us--and
+now I can tell you it's been worrying me like anything wondering what
+she's done.  My uncle and aunt both tried and failed; I was rather
+disappointed, because after all one would have thought that they would
+be able to deal with a thing like that, wouldn't one?"
+
+He paused again, but she only said "Yes" and hurried on.
+
+"So now I'm at my wits' end and I thought that you might help me."
+
+"Why not your father?" she said suddenly.
+
+"Ah! that's just it," he answered eagerly.  "That's where I wanted you
+to give me your advice.  You see--well, it's a little hard to
+explain--we weren't very nice to the governor when he came back
+first--the first day or two, I mean.  He was--well, different--didn't
+look at things as we did; liked different things and had strong views
+about knocking down the Cove.  So we went on our way and didn't pay
+much attention to him--I daresay he's told you all about it--and I'm
+sorry enough now, although it really was largely his own fault!  I
+don't think he seemed to want us to have much to do with him, and then
+one day Clare spoke to him about things and asked him to consider us a
+little and he flared up.
+
+"Well, I've a sort of idea that he could help us now--at any rate,
+there's no one else.  Aunt Clare said that she would ask him, but you
+know him better than any of us, and, of course, it is a little
+difficult for us, after the way that we've spoken to him; you might
+help us, I thought."
+
+He couldn't be sure, even now, that Mary had been listening--she looked
+so strange this evening that he was afraid of her, and half wished that
+he had kept his affairs to himself.  She was silent for a moment,
+because she was wondering what it was that Harry had really done about
+the letters.  It was amusing, because they obviously didn't know that
+she had told him--but what had he done?
+
+"Do you want me to help you, Robin?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, of course," he answered eagerly.  "You know him so well and could
+get him to do things that he would never do for us.  I'm afraid of him,
+or rather have been just lately.  I don't know what there is about him
+exactly."
+
+"You want me to help you?" she asked again.  "Well then, you've got to
+put up with a bit of my mind--you've caught me in a bad mood, and I
+don't care whether it hurts you or not--you're in for a bit of plain
+speaking."
+
+He looked up at her with surprise, but said nothing.
+
+"Oh, I know I'm no very great person myself," she went on
+quickly--almost fiercely.  "I've only known in the last few weeks how
+rotten one can really be, but at least I have known--I do know--and
+that's just what you don't.  We've been friends for some time, you and
+I--but if you don't look out, we shan't be friends much longer."
+
+"Why?" he asked quietly.
+
+"You were never very much good," she went on, paying no attention to
+his question, "and always conceited, but that was your aunt's fault as
+much as any one's, and she gave you that idea of your family--that you
+were God's own chosen people and that no one could come within speaking
+distance of you--you had that when you were quite a little boy, and you
+seem to have thought that that was enough, that you need never do
+anything all your life just because you were a Trojan.  Eton helped the
+idea, and when you went up to Cambridge you were a snob of the first
+order.  I thought Cambridge would knock it out of you, but it didn't;
+it encouraged you, and you were always with people who thought as you
+did, and you fancied that your own little corner of the earth--your own
+little potato-patch--was better than every one else's gardens; I
+thought you were a pretty poor thing when you came back from Cambridge
+last year, but now you've beaten my expectations by a good deal----"
+
+"I say----" he broke in--"really I----" but she went on unheeding--
+
+"Instead of working and doing something like any decent man would, you
+loafed along with your friends learning to tie your tie and choosing
+your waistcoat-buttons; you go and make love to a decent girl and then
+when you've tired of her tell her so, and seem surprised at her hitting
+back.
+
+"Then at last when there is a chance of your seeing what a man is
+like--that he isn't only a man who dresses decently like a tailor's
+model--when your father comes back and asks you to spend a few of your
+idle hours with him, you laugh at him, his manners, his habits, his
+friends, his way of thinking; you insult him and cut him dead--your
+father, one of the finest men in the world.  Why, you aren't fit to
+brush his clothes!--but that isn't the worst!  Now--when you find
+you're in a hole and you want some one to help you out of it and you
+don't know where to turn, you suddenly think of your father.  He wasn't
+any good before--he was rough and stupid, almost vulgar, but now that
+he can help you, you'll turn and play the dutiful son!
+
+"That's you as you are, Robin Trojan--you asked me for it and you've
+got it; it's just as well that you should see yourself as you are for
+once in your life--you'll forget it all again soon enough.  I'm not
+saying it's only you--it's the lot of you--idle, worthless, snobbish,
+empty, useless.  Help you?  No!  You can go to your father yourself and
+think yourself lucky if he will speak to you."
+
+Mary stopped for lack of breath.  Of course, he couldn't know that
+she'd been attacking herself as much as him, that, had it not been for
+that scene three days ago, she would never have spoken at all.
+
+"I say!" he said quietly, "is it really as bad as that?  Am I that sort
+of chap?"
+
+"Yes.  You know it now at least."
+
+"It's not quite fair.  I am only like the rest.  I----"
+
+"Yes, but why should you be?  Fancy being proud that you are like the
+rest!  One of a crowd!"
+
+They turned up the road to her house, and she began to relent when she
+saw that he was not angry.
+
+"No," he said, nodding his head slowly, "I expect you're about right,
+Mary.  Things have been happening lately that have made everything
+different--I've been thinking ...  I see my father differently...."
+
+Then, "How could you?" she cried.  "_You_ to cut him and turn him out?
+Oh!  Robin! you weren't always that sort----"
+
+"No," he answered.  "I wasn't once.  In Germany I was different--when I
+got away from things--but it's harder here"--and then again
+slowly--"But am I really as bad as that, Mary?"
+
+Sudden compunction seized her.  What right had she to speak to him?
+After all, he was only a boy, and she was every bit as bad herself.
+
+"Oh!  I don't know!" she said wearily.  "I'm all out of sorts to-night,
+Robin.  We're neither of us fit to speak to him, and you've treated him
+badly, all of you--I oughtn't to have spoken as I did, perhaps; but
+here we are!  You'd better forget it, and another day I'll tell you
+some of the nice things about you----"
+
+"Am I that sort of chap?" he said again, staring in front of him with
+his hand on the gate.  She said good-night and left him standing in the
+road.  He turned up the hill, with his head bent.  He was scarcely
+surprised and not at all angry.  It only seemed the climax to so many
+things that had happened lately--"a snob"--"a pretty poor thing"--"You
+don't work, you learn to choose your waistcoat-buttons"--that was the
+kind of chap he was.  And his father: "One of the finest men there
+is----"  He'd missed his chance, perhaps, he would never get it again!
+But he would try!
+
+He passed into the garden and fumbled for his latch-key.  He would
+speak to his father to-morrow!
+
+Mary was quite right ... he _was_ a "pretty poor thing!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+That night was never forgotten by any one at "The Flutes."  Down in the
+servants' hall they prolonged their departure for bed to a very late
+hour, and then crept, timorously, to their rooms; they were extravagant
+with the electric light, and dared Benham's anger in order to secure a
+little respite from terrible darkness.  Stories were recalled of Sir
+Jeremy's kindness and good nature, and much speculation was indulged in
+as to his successor--the cook recalled her early youth and an
+engagement with a soldier that aroused such sympathy in her hearers
+that she fraternised, unexpectedly, with Clare's maid--a girl who had
+formerly been considered "haughty," but was now found to be agreeable
+and pleasant.
+
+Above stairs there was the same restlessness and sense of uneasy
+expectancy.  Clare went to bed, but not to sleep.  Her mind was not
+with her father--she had been waiting for his death during many long
+weeks, and now that the time had arrived she could scarcely think of it
+otherwise than calmly.  If one had lived like a Trojan one would die
+like one--quietly, becomingly, in accordance with the best traditions.
+She was sure that there would be something ready for Trojans in the
+next world a little different from other folks' destiny--something
+select and refined--so why worry at going to meet it?
+
+No, it was not Sir Jeremy, but Robin.  Throughout the night she heard
+the clocks striking the quarters; the first light of dawn crept timidly
+through the shuttered blinds, the full blaze of the sun streamed on to
+her bed--and she could not sleep.  The conversation of the day before
+recalled itself syllable for syllable; she read into it things that had
+never been there and tortured herself with suspicion and doubt.  Robin
+was different--utterly different.  He was different even from a week
+ago when he had first told them of the affair.  She could hear his
+voice as he had bent over her asking her to forgive him; that had
+seemed to her then the hour of her triumph--but now she saw that it was
+the premonition of defeat.  How she had worked for him, loved him,
+spoilt him; and now, in these weeks, her lifework was utterly undone.
+And then, in the terrible loneliness of her room, with the darkness on
+the world and round her bed and at her heart, she wept--terrible,
+tearless sobbing that left her in the morning weak, unstrung, utterly
+unequal to the day.
+
+This conversation with Robin had also worried Garrett.  The consolation
+that he had frequently found in the reassuring comforts of his study
+seemed utterly wanting to-night.  The stillness irritated him;  it
+seemed stuffy, close, and he had an overmastering desire for a
+companion.  This desire he conquered, because he felt that it would be
+scarcely dignified to search the byways of the house for a friend; but
+he listened for steps, and fancied over and over again that he heard
+the eagerly anticipated knock.  But no one came, and he sat far into
+the night, fancying strange sounds and trembling at the dark; and at
+last fell asleep in his chair, and was discovered in an undignified
+position on the floor in the early morning by the politely astonished
+Benham.
+
+But it was for Harry that the night most truly marked a crisis.  He
+spent it in vigil by the side of his father, and watched the heavy
+passing of the hours, like grey solemn figures through the darkened
+room.  The faint glimmer of the electric light, heavily shaded, assumed
+fantastic and portentous shapes and fleecy enormous shadows on the
+white surface of the staring walls.  Strange blue shadows glimmered
+through the black caverns of the windows, and faint lights came from
+beneath the door, and hovered on the ceiling like mysteriously moving
+figures.
+
+Sir Jeremy was perfectly still.  Death had come to him very gently and
+had laid its hand quietly upon him, with no violence or harshness.  It
+was only old age that had greeted him as a friend, and then with a
+smile had persuaded him to go.  He was unconscious now, but at any
+moment his senses might return, and then he would ask for Harry.  The
+crisis might come at any time, and Harry must be there.
+
+He felt no weariness; his brain was extraordinarily active and he
+passed every incident since his return in review.  It all seemed so
+clear to him now; the inevitability of it all; and his own blindness in
+escaping the meaning of it.  It seemed now that he had known nothing of
+the world at all three weeks ago.  Then he had judged it from his own
+knowledge--now he saw it in many lights; the point of view of Robin, of
+Dahlia Feverel, of Clare, of Sir Jeremy, of Bethel, of Mary--he had
+arrived at the great knowledge that Life could be absolutely right for
+many different sorts of people--that the same life, like a globe of
+flashing colours, could shine into every corner of obscurity, gleaming
+differently in every different place and yet be unchangeable.
+Murderer, robber, violator, saint, priest, king, beggar--they were all
+parts of a wonderful, inevitable world, and, he saw it now, were all of
+them essential.  He had been tolerant before from a wide-embracing
+charity; he was tolerant now from a wide-embracing knowledge: "Er
+liebte jeden Hund, und wünschte von jedem Hund geliebt zu sein."
+
+They had all learnt in that last three weeks.  Dahlia Feverel would
+pass into the world with that struggle at her heart and the strength of
+her victory--his father would solve the greatest question of
+all--Robin!  Mary!  Clare!--they had all been learning too, but what it
+was that they had learnt he could not yet tell; the conclusion of the
+matter was to come.  But it had all been, for him at least, only a
+prelude; he was to stand for the world as head of the House, he had his
+life before him and his work to do, he had only, like Robin, just "come
+of age."
+
+He did not know why, but he had no longer any doubt.  He knew that he
+would win Robin, he knew that he would win Mary; up to that day he had
+been uncertain, vacillating, miserable--but now he had no longer any
+hesitation.  The work of his life was to fit Robin for his due
+succession, and, please God, he would do it with all his heart and soul
+and strength; there was to be no false sentiment, no shifting of
+difficult questions, no hiding from danger, no sheltering blindly under
+unquestioned creeds, no false bids for popularity.
+
+Robin was to be clean, straight, and sane, with all the sturdy
+cleanliness and strength and sanity that his father's love and
+knowledge could give him.
+
+Oh! he loved his son!--but no longer blindly, as he had loved him three
+weeks ago ... and so he faced his future.
+
+And of Mary, too, he was sure.  He knew that she loved him; he had seen
+her face in the mirror as her lips had said "No," and he saw that her
+heart had said "Yes."  With the new strength that had come to him he
+vowed to force her defences and carry her away....  Oh! he could be any
+knight and fight for any lady.
+
+But as he sat by the bed, watching the dawn struggle through the blinds
+and listening to the faint, clear twittering of birds in the grey,
+dew-swept garden--he wished that he could tell his father of his
+engagement.  He wondered if there would be time.  That it would please
+the old man he knew, and it would seal the compact, and place a secret
+blessing on their married life together.  Yes, he would like to tell
+him.
+
+The clocks struck five--he heard their voices echo through the house;
+and, at the last, the tiny voice of the cuckoo clock sounded and the
+little wild flap of his wings came quite clearly through the silence;
+his voice was answered by a chorus from the garden, the voices of the
+birds seemed to grow ever louder and louder; in that strange dark room,
+with its shaded lights and heavy airs, it was clear and fresh like the
+falling of water on cold, shining stone.
+
+Harry went softly to the window and drew back a corner of the blind.
+The dawn was gradually revealing the forms and colours of the garden,
+and in the grey, misty light things were mysterious and uncertain; like
+white lights in a dusky room the two white statues shone through the
+mist.  At that strange hour they seemed in their right atmosphere; they
+seemed to move and turn and bend--he could have fancied that they
+sailed on the mist--that, for a moment, they had vanished and then that
+they had grown enormous, monstrous.  He watched them eagerly, and as
+the light grew clearer he made them out more plainly--the straight,
+eager beauty of the man, the dim, mysterious grace of the woman.
+Perhaps they talked in those early hours when they were alone in the
+garden; perhaps they might speak to him if he were to join them then.
+Then he fancied that the mist formed into figures of men and women; to
+his excited fancy the garden seemed peopled with shapes that increased
+and dwindled and vanished.  Round the statues many shapes gathered; one
+in especial seemed to walk to and fro with its face turned to the
+house.  It was a woman--her grey dress floated in the air, and he saw
+her form outlined against the statue.  Then the mist seemed to sweep
+down again and catch the statues in its eddies and hide them from his
+gaze.  The dawn was breaking very slowly.  From the window the sweep of
+the sea was, in daylight, perfectly visible: now in the dim grey of the
+sky it was hidden--but Harry knew where it must be and watched for its
+appearance.  The first lights were creeping over the sky, breaking in
+delicate tints and ripples of silver and curving, arc-shaped, from the
+west to the east.
+
+Where sky and sea divided a faint pale line of grey hovered and broke,
+turning into other paler lights of the most delicate blue.  The dawn
+had come.
+
+He turned back again to the garden and started with surprise: in the
+more certain light there was no doubt that it was a woman who stood
+there by the statues, guarding the first early beauties of the garden.
+Everything was pearl-grey, save where, high above the water of the
+fountain that stood in the centre of the lawn, the sky had broken into
+a little lake of the palest blue and this was reflected in the still
+mirror of the fountain--but it _was_ a woman.  He could see the outline
+of her form--the bend of her neck as she turned with her face to the
+house, the straight line of her arms as they tell at her sides.  And,
+as he looked, his heart began to beat thickly.  He seemed to recognise
+that carriage of the body from the hips, the fling-back of the head as
+she stared towards the windows.
+
+The light of the dawn was breaking over the garden, the chorus of the
+birds was loud in the trees, and he knew that it was no dream.
+
+He glanced for a moment at his father, and then crept softly from the
+room.  He found one of the nurses making tea over a spirit-lamp in the
+dressing-room and asked her to take his place.
+
+The house was perfectly silent as he opened the French window of the
+drawing-room and stepped on to the lawn.  The grass was heavy with dew
+and the fresh air beat about his face; he had never known anything
+quite so fresh--the air, the grass, the trees, the birds' song like the
+sound of hidden waters tumbling on to some unseen rock.
+
+Her face was turned away from him and his feet made no sound on the
+grass.  He came perfectly silently towards her, and then when he saw
+that it had indeed been no imagination but that it was reality, and
+when he knew all that her coming there meant and what it implied, for
+moment his limbs shook so that he could scarcely stand.  Then he
+laughed a little and said "Mary!"
+
+She turned with a little cry, and when she saw who it was the crimson
+flooded her face, changing it as the rising sun was soon to change the
+grey of the sea and the garden.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, "I didn't know--I didn't mean.  I----"
+
+"It is going to be a lovely day," he said quietly, "the sun will be up
+in a moment.  I have been watching you from my father's window."
+
+"Oh!  You mustn't!" she cried eagerly.  "I thought that I was
+safe--absolutely; I was here quite by chance--really I was--I couldn't
+sleep, and I thought that I would watch the sunrise over the sea--and I
+went down to the beach--and then--well, there was the little wood by
+your garden, and it was so wonderfully still and silent, and I saw
+those statues gleaming through the trees, and they looked so beautiful
+that I came nearer.  I meant to come only for a moment and then go away
+again--but--I--stayed----"
+
+But he could scarcely hear what she said; he only saw her standing
+there with her dress trembling a little in the breeze.
+
+"Mary," he said, "you did not mean what you told me the other day?"
+
+She looked at him for a moment and then suddenly flung out her hands
+and touched his coat.  "No," she answered.
+
+For a moment they were utterly silent.  Then he took her into his arms.
+
+"I love you!  How I love you!"
+
+Her hair was about his face, for a moment her face was buried in his
+coat, then she lifted it and their lips met.
+
+He shook from head to foot, he crushed her to him, then he released her.
+
+She glanced up at him with her hand still touching his coat and looked
+into his eyes.
+
+"I will love you and serve you and honour you always," she said.  She
+took his arm and they passed down the lawn and watched the light
+breaking over the sea.  The sky was broken into thousands of fleecy
+clouds of mother-of-pearl--the sea was trembling as though the sun had
+whispered that it was near at hand, and, on the horizon, the first bars
+of pale gold heralded its coming.
+
+"I have loved you," he said, "since the first moment that I saw you--I
+gave you tea and muffins; I deserted the Miss Ponsonbys in order to
+serve you."
+
+"And I too!" she answered, laughing.  "I could not eat the muffin for
+love of you, and I was jealous of the Miss Ponsonbys!"
+
+"Why did you turn me out the other day?"
+
+"They had been talking--mother and the others; and I was hurt terribly,
+and I thought that you would hear what they had said and would think,
+perhaps, that it was true and would despise me.  And then after you had
+gone, I knew that nothing in the world could make any difference--that
+they could say what they pleased, but that I could not live without
+you--you see I am very young!"
+
+"Oh, and I am so old, dear!  You mustn't forget that!  Do you think
+that you could ever put up with any one as old as I am?"
+
+She laughed.  "You are just the same age as myself," she cried.  "You
+will always be the same age, and I am not sure but I think that you are
+younger----"
+
+And suddenly the sun had risen--a great ball of fire changing all the
+blue of the sky to red and gold, and they watched as the gods had
+watched the flaming ruin of Valhalla.
+
+But the daylight drove them to other thoughts.
+
+"I must go back," she said.  "I will go down to the shore and perhaps
+will meet father.  Oh! you don't know what I have suffered during these
+last few days.  I thought that perhaps I had driven you away and that
+you would never come back--and then I had a silly idea that I would
+watch your windows--and so I came----"
+
+"Why!  I have watched yours!" he cried--"often!  Oh! we will have some
+times!"
+
+"But you must remember that there will be three of us," she answered.
+"There is Robin!"
+
+"Robin!  Why, it will be splendid!  You and Robin and I!"
+
+"Poor Robin----"  She laughed.  "You don't know how I scolded him last
+night.  It was about you and I was unhappy.  He is changing fast, and
+it is because of you.  He has come round----"
+
+"We have all come round!" cried Harry.  "He and you and I!  Oh! this is
+the beginning of the world for all of us--and I am forty-five!  Will
+you write to me later in the day?  I cannot get down until to-night.
+My father is very ill--I must be here.  But write to me--a long
+letter--it will be as though you were talking."
+
+She laughed.  "Yes, I'll write," she cried; then she looked at him
+again--"I love you," she said, as though she were reciting her faith,
+"because you are good, because you are strong, because--oh! for no
+reason at all--just because you are you."
+
+For a moment they watched the sea, and then again he took her in his
+arms and held her as though he would never let her go--then she
+vanished through the trees.
+
+The house was waking into life as he re-entered it; servants were astir
+at an early hour: he had been away such a little time, but the world
+was another place.  Every detail of the house--the stairs, the hall,
+the windows, the clocks, the pot-pourri scent from the bowls of dried
+roses, the dance of the dust in the light of the rising sun, was
+presented to him now with a new meaning.  He was glad that she had
+stayed with him such a little while--it made it more precious, her
+coming with the shadows in that grey of breaking skies and a mysterious
+plunging sea, and then vanishing with the rising sun.  Oh! they would
+come down to earth soon enough!--let him keep that kiss, those few
+words, her last smile as she vanished into the wood, like the visible
+signs of the other world that had, at last, been allowed to him.  The
+vision of the Grail had passed from his eyes, but the memory of it was
+to be his most sacred possession.
+
+He went to his room, had a bath, and then returned to his father; of
+course, he could not sleep.
+
+Clare, Garrett, and Robin met at breakfast with the sense of
+approaching calamity heavy upon them.  As far as Sir Jeremy himself was
+concerned there was little real regret--how could there be?  Of course,
+there was the sentiment of separation, the breaking of a great many
+ties that had been strong and traditional; but it was better that the
+old man should go--of that there was no question.  Sir Jeremy himself
+would rather.  No, "Le roi est mort" was easy enough to say, but how
+"Vive le roi" stuck in their throats.
+
+Garrett hinted at a wretched night, and quoted Benham on the dangers of
+an arm-chair at night-time.
+
+"Of course, one had been thinking," he said vaguely, after a melancholy
+survey of eggs and bacon that developed into resignation over dry
+toast--"there was a good deal to think about.  But I certainly had
+intended to go to bed--I can't imagine what----"
+
+Robin said nothing.  His mind was busy with Mary's speech of the night
+before; his world lay crumbled about him, and, like Cato, he was
+finding a certain melancholy satisfaction in its ruins.  His thoughts
+were scarcely with his grandfather; he felt vaguely that there was
+Death in the house and that its immediate presence was one of the
+things that had helped to bring his self-content about his ears.  But
+it was of his father that he was thinking, and of a certain morning
+when he had refused a walk.  If he got a chance again!
+
+Clare looked wretched.  Robin thought that she had never seemed so ill
+before; there was, for the first time, an air of carelessness about
+her, as though she had flung on her clothes anyhow--something utterly
+unlike her.
+
+"I am going to speak to Harry this morning," she said.
+
+Garrett looked up peevishly.  "Scarcely the time, Clare.  I should say
+that it were better for us to wait until--well, afterwards.  There is,
+perhaps, something a little indecent----"
+
+"I have considered the matter carefully," interrupted Clare decisively.
+"This is the best time----"
+
+"Oh, well, of course.  Only I should have thought that I might have had
+just a little say in the matter.  I was, after all, originally
+consulted as well as yourself.  I saw the girl, and was even, I might
+venture to suggest, with her for some time.  But, of course, a mere
+man's opinion----"
+
+"Oh, don't be absurd, Garrett.  It is I that have to ask him--it is
+pretty obvious that I have every right to choose my own time."
+
+"Oh!  Please, don't let me interfere--only I should scarcely have
+thought that this was quite the moment when Harry would be most
+inclined to listen to you."
+
+"If we don't ask him now," she answered, "there's no knowing when we
+shall have the opportunity.  When poor father is gone he will have a
+great deal to settle and decide; he will have no time for anything at
+all for months ahead.  This morning is our last chance."
+
+But she had another thought.  Her great desire now was that he should
+try and fail; that he would fail she was sure.  She was eagerly
+impatient for that day when he must come to them and admit his failure.
+She looked ahead and fashioned that scene for herself--that scene when
+Robin should know and confess that his father was only as the rest of
+them; that their failure was his failure, their incapacity his
+incapacity--and then the balance would be restored and Robin would see
+as he had seen before.
+
+"Coffee, Robin?  It's quite hot still.  I saw Dr. Brady just now.  He
+says that there is no change, nor is there likely to be one for some
+hours.  You're looking tired, Robin, old boy.  Have you been sleeping
+on the floor, too?"
+
+"No!"  He looked up and smiled.  "But I was awake a good bit.  The
+house is different somehow, when----"
+
+"Oh yes, I know.  One feels it, of course.  But eating's much the best
+thing for keeping one's spirits up.  I suppose Harry is coming down.
+Just find out from Benham, will you, Wilder, whether Mr. Henry is
+coming down?"
+
+The footman left the room, returning in a moment with the answer that
+Mr. Henry was about to come down.
+
+Garrett moved to the door, but Clare stopped him.
+
+"I want you, Garrett--you can bear me out!"
+
+"I thought that my opinion was of so little importance," he answered
+sulkily, "that I might as well go."
+
+But he sat down again and buried himself in his paper.
+
+They waited, and Robin made mental comparisons with a similar scene a
+week before; there were still the silver teapot, the toast, the
+ham--they were all there, and it was only he himself who had altered.
+Only a week, and what a difference!  What a cad he had been! a howling
+cad!  Not only to his father, but to Dahlia, to every one with whom he
+had had to do.  He did not spare himself; he had at least the pluck to
+go through with it--_that_ was Trojan.
+
+At Harry's entrance there was an involuntary raising of eyebrows to
+see, if possible, how _he_ took it; _it_ being his own immediate
+succession rather than his father's death.  He was grave, of course,
+but there was a light in his eyes that Clare could not understand.  Had
+he some premonition of her request?  He apologised for being late.
+
+"I have been up most of the night.  There is no immediate danger of a
+change, but we ought, I think, to be ready.  Yes, the toast, Robin,
+please--I hope you've slept all right, Clare?"
+
+How quickly he had picked up the manner, she reflected, as she watched
+him!  But of course that was natural enough; once a Trojan, always a
+Trojan, and no amount of colonies will do away with it.  But three
+weeks was a short time for so vast a change.
+
+"No, Harry, not very well--of course, it weighs on one rather."
+
+She sighed and rose from the breakfast-table; she looked terribly tired
+and Harry was suddenly sorry for her, and, for the first time since the
+night of his return, felt that they were brother and sister; but after
+the adventure of the early morning it was as though he were related to
+the whole world--Love and Death had drawn close to him, and, with the
+sound of the beating of their wings, the world had revealed things to
+him that had, in other days, been secrets.  Love and Death were such
+big things that his personal relations with Clare, with Garrett, even
+with Robin, had assumed their true proportion.
+
+"Clare, you're tired!" he said.  "I should go and lie down again.  You
+shall be told if anything happens."
+
+"No, thanks, Harry.  I wanted to ask you something--but, perhaps, first
+I ought to apologise for some of the things that I said the other day.
+I said more than I meant to.  I am sorry--but one forgets at times that
+one has no right to meddle in other people's affairs.  But now
+I--we--all of us--want to ask you a favour----"
+
+"Yes?" he said, looking up.
+
+"Well, of course, this is scarcely the time.  But it is something that
+can hardly wait, and you can decide about acting yourself----"
+
+She paused.  It was the very hardest thing that she had ever had to do,
+and she would never forget it to the day of her death.  But it was
+harder for Robin; he sat there with flaming cheeks and his head
+hanging--he could not look at his father.
+
+"It is to do with Robin--" Clare went on; "he was rather afraid to ask
+you about it himself, because, of course, it is not a business of which
+he is very proud, and so he has asked me to do it for him.  It is a
+girl--a Miss Feverel--whom he met at Cambridge and to whom he had
+written letters, letters that gave the young woman some reasons to
+suppose that he was offering her marriage.  He saw the matter more
+wisely after a time and naturally wished Miss Feverel to restore the
+letters, but this she refused to do.  Both Garrett and myself have done
+what we could and have, I am afraid, failed.  Miss Feverel is quite
+resolute--most obstinately so.  We are afraid that she may take steps
+that would be unpleasant to all of us--it is rather worrying us, and we
+thought--it seemed--in short, I determined to ask you to help us.  With
+your wider experience you will probably know the best way in which to
+deal with such a person."
+
+Clare paused.  She had put it as drily as possible, but it was,
+nevertheless, humiliating.
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"I am scarcely surprised," said Harry, "that Robin is ashamed of the
+affair."
+
+"Of course he is," answered Clare eagerly, "bitterly ashamed."
+
+"I suppose you made love to--ah--Miss Feverel?" he said, turning
+directly to Robin.
+
+"Yes," said Robin, lifting his head and facing his father.  As their
+eyes met the colour rushed to his cheeks.
+
+"It was a rotten thing to do," said Harry.
+
+"I have been very much ashamed of myself," answered Robin.  "I would
+make Miss Feverel any apology that is in my power, but there seems to
+be little that I can do."
+
+Harry said no more.
+
+"I am really sorry," said Clare at last, "to speak about a business
+like this just now--but really there is no time to lose.  I am sure
+that you will do something to prevent trouble in the Courts, and that
+is what Miss Feverel seems to threaten."
+
+"What do you want me to do?" he asked.
+
+"To see her--to see her and try and arrange some compromise----"
+
+"I should have thought that Robin was the proper person----"
+
+"He has tried and failed; she would not listen to him."
+
+"Then I am afraid that she will not listen to me--a perfect stranger
+with no claims on her interest."
+
+"It is precisely that.  You will be able to put it on a business
+footing, because sentiment does not enter into the question at all."
+
+"Do you want me to help you, Robin?"
+
+At the direct question Robin looked up again.  His father looked very
+stern and judicial.  It was the schoolmaster rather than the parent,
+but, after all, what else could he expect?  So he said, quite
+simply--"Yes, father."
+
+But at this moment there was an interruption.  With the hurried opening
+of the door there came the sounds of agitated voices and steps in the
+passage--then Benham appeared.
+
+"Sir Jeremy is worse, Mr. Henry.  The doctor thinks that, perhaps----"
+
+Harry hurriedly left the room.  Absolute silence reigned.  The sudden
+arrival of the long-expected crisis was terrifying.  They sat like
+statues, staring in front of them, and listening eagerly to every
+sound.  The monotonous ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece was
+terrifying--the clock on the wall by the door seemed to run a race.
+The "tick-tock" grew faster and faster--at last it was as if both
+clocks were screaming aloud.
+
+The room was filled with the clamour, and through it all they sat
+motionless and silent.
+
+In a moment Harry had returned.  "All of you," he said quickly--"he
+would like to see you--I am afraid----"
+
+After that Robin was confused and saw nothing clearly.  As he crept
+tremblingly up the stairs everything assumed gigantic and menacing
+shapes--the clock, the pot-pourri bowls, the window-curtains, and the
+brass rods on the stairs.  In the room there was that grey half-light
+that seemed so terrible, and the spurt and crackle of the fire seemed
+to fill the place with sounds.  He scarcely saw his grandfather.  In
+the centre of the bed, something was lying; the eyes gleamed for a
+moment in the light of the fire, the lips seemed to move.  But he did
+not realise that those things were his grandfather whom he had known
+for so many years--in another hour he would be dead.
+
+But the things that he saw were the shadows of the fire on the wall,
+the dancing in the air of the only lock of hair that Dr. Brady
+possessed, the way that Clare's hands were folded as she stood silently
+by the bed, Uncle Garrett's waistcoat-buttons that shot little sparks
+of light into the room as he turned, ever so slightly, from side to
+side.
+
+At a motion of the doctor's, he came forward to bid Sir Jeremy
+farewell.  As he bent over the bed panic seized him--he did not see Sir
+Jeremy but something horrible, terrible, ghoulish--Death.  Then he saw
+the old man's eyes, and they were twinkling; then he knew that he was
+speaking to him.  The words came with difficulty, but they were quite
+clear--
+
+"You'll be a good man, Robin--but listen to your father--he
+knows--he'll show you how to be a Trojan."
+
+For a moment he held the wrinkled, shrivelled hand in his own, and then
+he stepped back.  Clare bent down and kissed her father, and then
+kneeled down by the bed; Robin had a mad longing to laugh as he saw his
+uncle and aunt kneeling there, their heads made enormous shadows on the
+wall.
+
+Harry also bent down and kissed his father; the old man held his hand
+and kept it--
+
+"I've tried to be a fair man and a gentleman--I've not been a good one.
+But I've had some fun and seen life--thank God, I was born a Trojan--so
+will the rest of you.  Harry, my boy, you're all right--you'll do.  I'm
+going, but I don't regret anything--your sins are experience--and the
+greatest sin of all is not having any."
+
+His lips closed--as the fire flashed with the falling of a cavern of
+blazing coal his head rolled back on to the pillow.
+
+Suddenly he smiled--
+
+"Dear old Harry!" he said, and then he died.
+
+The shadows from the fire leapt and danced on the wall, and the
+kneeling figures by the bed flung grotesque shapes over the dead man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+It was five o'clock of the same day and Harry was asleep in front of
+his fire.  In the early hours of the afternoon the strain under which
+he had been during the past week began to assert itself, and every part
+of his body seemed to cry out for sleep.
+
+His head was throbbing, his legs trembled, and strange lights and
+figures danced before his eyes; he flung himself into a chair in his
+small study at the top of the West Tower and fell asleep.
+
+He had grown to love that room very dearly: the great stretch of the
+sea and the shining sand with the grey bending hills hemming it in;
+that view was never the same, but with the passing of every cloud held
+new colours like a bowl of shining glass.
+
+The room was bare and simple--that had been his own wish; a photograph
+of his first wife hung over the mantelpiece, a small sketch of Auckland
+Harbour, a rough drawing of the Terraces before their
+destruction--these were all his pictures.
+
+He had been trying to read since his return, and copies of "The Egoist"
+and some of Swinburne's poetry lay on the table; but the first had
+seemed incomprehensible to him and the second indecent, and he had
+abandoned them; but he _had_ made one discovery, thanks to Bethel, Walt
+Whitman's "Leaves of Grass"--it seemed to him the greatest book that he
+had ever read, the very voicing of all his hopes and ideals and faith.
+Ah! that man knew!
+
+Benham came in and drew the curtains.  He watched the sleeping man for
+a moment and nodded his head.  He was the right sort, Mr. Harry!  He
+would do!--and the Watcher of the House stole out again.
+
+Harry slept on, a great, dreamless sleep, grey and formless as sleep of
+utter exhaustion always is; then he suddenly woke to the dim twilight
+of the room, the orange glow of the dying fire, and the distant
+striking of the hour--it was six o'clock!
+
+As he lay back in his chair, dreamily, lazily watching the fire, his
+thoughts were of his father.  He had not known that he would regret him
+so intensely, but he saw now that the old man had meant everything to
+him during those first weeks of his return.  He thought of him very
+tenderly--his prejudices, his weaknesses, his traditions.  It was
+strange how alike they all were in reality, the Trojans!  Sir Jeremy,
+Clare, Garrett, Robin, himself, the same bedrock of traditional pride
+was there, it was only that circumstances had altered them
+superficially.  Three weeks ago Clare and he had seemed worlds apart,
+now he saw how near they were!  But for that very reason, they would
+never get on--he saw that quite clearly.  They knew too well the weak
+spots in each other's armour, and their pride would be for ever at war.
+
+He did not want to turn her out--she had been there for all those years
+and it was her home; but he thought that she herself would prefer to
+go.  There was a charming place in Norfolk, Wrexhall Pogis, that had
+been let for years, and there was quite a pleasant little place in
+town, 3 Southwick Crescent--yes, she would probably prefer to go, even
+had he not meant to marry Mary.  The announcement of that little affair
+would be something in the nature of a thunderbolt.
+
+It was impossible for him to go--the head of the House must always live
+at "The Flutes."  But he knew already how much that House was going to
+mean to him, and so he guessed how much it must mean to Clare.
+
+And to Robin?  What would Robin do?  Three weeks ago there could have
+been but one answer to that question--he would have followed his aunt.
+Now Harry was not so sure.  There was this affair of Miss Feverel;
+probably Robin would come to him about it and then they would be able
+to talk.  He had had that very day a letter from Dahlia Feverel.  He
+looked at it again now; it said:--
+
+
+"DEAR MR. TROJAN--Mother and I are leaving Pendragon to-morrow--for
+ever, I suppose--but before I go I thought that I should like to send
+you a little line to thank you for your kindness to me.  That sounds
+terribly formal, doesn't it? but the gratitude is really there, and
+indeed I am no letter-writer.
+
+"You met a girl at the crisis in her life when there were two roads in
+front of her and you helped her to choose the right one.  I daresay
+that you thought that you did very little--it cannot have seemed very
+much, that short meeting that we had; but it made just the difference
+to me and will, I know, be to me a white stone from which I shall date
+my new life.  I am not a strong woman--I never shall be a strong
+woman--and it was partly because I thought that love for Robin was
+going to give me that strength that it hurt so terribly when I found
+that the love wasn't there.  The going of my love hurt every bit as
+much as the going of his--it had been something to be proud of.
+
+"I relied on sentiment and now I am going to rely on work; those are
+the only two alternatives offered to women, and the latter is so often
+denied to them.
+
+"I hope that it may, one day, give you pleasure to think that you once
+helped a girl to do the strong thing instead of the weak one.  Of
+course, my love for Robin has died, and I see him clearly now without
+exaggeration.  What happened was largely my fault--I spoilt him, I
+think, and helped his self-pride.  I know that he has been passing
+through a bad time lately, and I am sure that he will come to you to
+help him out of it.  He is a lucky fellow to have some one to help him
+like that--and then he will suddenly see that he has done a rather
+cruel thing.  Poor Robin! he will make a fine man one day.
+
+"I have got a little secretaryship in London--nothing very big, but it
+will give me the work that I want; and, because you once said that you
+believed in me, I will try to justify your belief.  There! that is
+sentiment, isn't it!--and I have flung sentiment away.  Well, it is the
+last time!
+
+"Good-bye--I shall never forget.  Thank you.--
+
+Yours sincerely,
+  DAHLIA FEVEREL."
+
+
+So perhaps, after all, Robin's mistakes had been for the good of all of
+them.  Mistake was, indeed, a slight word for what he had done, and,
+thinking of it even now, Harry's anger rose.
+
+And she had been a nice girl, too, and a plucky one.
+
+He had answered her:--
+
+
+"MY DEAR MISS FEVEREL--I was extremely pleased to get your letter.  It
+is very good of you to speak as you have done about myself, but I
+assure you that what I did was of the smallest importance.  It was
+because you had pluck yourself that you pulled through.  You are quite
+right to fling away sentiment.  I came back to England three weeks ago
+longing to call every man my brother.  I thought that by a mere smile,
+a bending of the finger, the world was my friend for life.  I soon
+found my mistake.  Friendship is a very slow and gradual affair, and I
+distrust the mushroom growth profoundly.  Life isn't easy in that kind
+of way; you and I have found that out together.
+
+"I wish you every success in your new life; I have no doubt whatever
+that you will get on, and I hope that you will let me hear sometimes
+from you.
+
+"Things have been happening quickly during the last few days.  My
+father died this morning; he was himself glad to go, but I shall miss
+him terribly--he has been a most splendid friend to me during these
+weeks.  Then I know that you will be interested to hear that I am
+engaged to Miss Bethel--you know her, do you not?  I hope and believe
+that we shall be very happy.
+
+"As to Robin, he has, as you say, been having a bad time.  To do him
+justice it has not been only the fear of the letters that has hung over
+him--he has also discovered a good many things about himself that have
+hurt and surprised him.
+
+"Well, good-bye--I am sure that you will look back on the Robin episode
+with gratitude.  It has done a great deal for all of us.  Good luck to
+you!--Always your friend,
+
+HENRY TROJAN."
+
+
+He turned on the lights in his room and tried to read, but he found
+that that was impossible.  His eyes wandered off the page and he
+listened: he caught himself again and again straining his ears for a
+sound.  He pictured the coming of steps up the stairs and then sharp
+and loud along the passage--then a pause and a knock on his door.
+Often he fancied that he heard it, but it was only fancy and he turned
+away disappointed; but he was sure that Robin would come.
+
+They had decided not to dine downstairs together on that evening--they
+were, all of them, overwrought and the situation was strained; they
+were wondering what he was going to do.  There were, of course, a
+thousand things to be done, but he was glad that they had left him
+alone for that night at any rate.  He wanted to be quiet.
+
+He had written a letter of enormous length to Mary, explaining to her
+what had happened and telling her that he would come to her in the
+morning.  It was very hard, even then, not to rush down to her, but he
+felt that he must keep that day at least sacred to his father.
+
+Would Robin come?  It was quarter to seven and that terrible sleep was
+beginning to overcome him again.  The fire, the walls, the pictures,
+danced before his eyes ... the stories of the fishermen in the Cove
+came back to him ... the Four Stones and the man who had lost his way
+... the red tiles and the black rafters of "The Bended Thumb" ... and
+then Mary's beauty above it all.  Mary on the moors with the wind
+blowing through her hair; Mary in the house with the firelight on her
+face, Mary ... and then he suddenly started up, wide awake, for he
+heard steps on the stair.
+
+He knew them at once--he never doubted that they were Robin's.  The
+last two steps were taken slowly and with hesitation.
+
+Then he hurried down the passage as though he had suddenly made up his
+mind; then, again, there was a long pause before the door.  At last
+came the knock, timidly, and then another loudly and almost violently.
+
+Harry shouted "Come in," and Robin entered, his face pale and his hands
+twisting and untwisting.
+
+"Ah, Robin--do you want anything?  Come in--sit down.  I've been
+asleep."
+
+"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?  No, thanks, I won't sit down.  I've
+got some things I want to say.  I'd rather say them standing up."
+
+There was a long pause.  Harry said nothing and stared into the fire.
+
+"I've got a good lot to say altogether."  Robin cleared his throat.
+"It's rather hard.  Perhaps this doesn't seem quite the time--after
+grandfather--and--everything--but I couldn't wait very well.  I've been
+a bit uncomfortable."
+
+"Out with it," said Harry.  "This time will do excellently--there's a
+pause just now, but to-morrow everything will begin again and there's a
+terrible lot to do.  What is it?"
+
+Was it, he wondered, Robin's fault or his own that there was that
+barrier so strangely defined between them even now?  He could feel it
+there in the room with them now.  He wondered whether Robin felt it as
+well.
+
+"It is about what my aunt said to you this morning--and other
+things--other things right from the beginning, ever since you came
+back.  I'm not much of a chap at talking, and probably I shan't say
+what I mean, but I will try.  I've been thinking about it all lately,
+but what made me come and speak to you was this morning--having to ask
+you a favour after being so rude to you.  A chap doesn't like doing
+that, and it made me think--besides there being other things."
+
+"Oh, there's no need to thank me about this morning," Harry said drily;
+"I shall be very pleased to do what I can."
+
+"Oh, it isn't that," Robin said quickly.  "It isn't about that somehow
+that I mind at all now; I have been worrying about it a good bit, but
+that isn't what I want to speak about.  I'll go through with it--Breach
+of Promise--or whatever it is--if only you wouldn't think me--well,
+quite an utter rotter."
+
+"I wish," said Harry quietly, "that you would sit down.  I'm sure that
+you would find it easier to talk."
+
+Robin looked at him for a moment and then at the chair--then he sat
+down.
+
+"You see, somehow grandfather's dying has made things seem different to
+one--it has made one younger somehow.  I used to think that I was
+really very old and knew a lot; but his death has shown me that I know
+nothing at all--really nothing.  But there have been a lot of things
+all happening together--your coming back, that business with
+Dahlia--Miss Feverel, you know--a dressing down that I got from Miss
+Bethel the other evening, and then grandfather's dying----"
+
+He paused again and cleared his throat.  He looked straight into the
+fire, and, every now and again, he gave a little choke and a gasp which
+showed that he was moved.
+
+"A chap doesn't like talking about himself," he went on at last; "no
+decent chap does; but unless I tell you everything from the beginning
+it will never be clear--I must tell you everything----"
+
+"Please--I want to hear."
+
+"Well, you see, before you came back, I suppose that I had really lots
+of side.  I never used to think that I had, but I see now that what
+Mary said the other night was perfectly right--it wasn't only that I
+'sided' about myself, but about my set and my people and everything.
+And then you came back.  You see we didn't any of us very much think
+that we wanted you.  To begin with, you weren't exactly like my
+governor; not having seen you all my life I hadn't thought much about
+you at all, and your letters were so unlike anything that I knew that I
+hadn't believed them exactly.  We were very happy as we were.  I
+thought that I had everything I wanted.  And then you didn't do things
+as we did; you didn't like the same books and pictures or anything, and
+I was angry because I thought that I must know about those things and I
+couldn't understand you.  And then you know you made things worse by
+trying to force my liking out of me, and chaps of my sort are awfully
+afraid of showing their feelings to any one, least of all to a man----"
+Robin paused.
+
+"Yes," said Harry, "I know."
+
+"But all this isn't an excuse really; I was a most awful cad, and
+there's no getting away from it.  But I think I began to see almost
+from the very beginning that I hadn't any right to behave like that,
+but I was obstinate.
+
+"And then I began to get in a fright about Miss Feverel.  She wouldn't
+give my letters back, although I went to her and Uncle Garrett and Aunt
+Clare--all of us--but it was no good--she meant to keep them and of
+course we knew why.  And then, too, I saw at last that I'd behaved like
+an utter cad--it was funny I didn't see it at the time.  But I'd seen
+other chaps do the same sort of thing and the girls didn't mind, and
+I'd thought that she ought to be jolly pleased at getting to know a
+Trojan--and all that sort of thing.
+
+"But when I saw that she wasn't going to give the letters back but
+meant to use them I was terribly frightened.  It wasn't myself so much,
+although I hated the idea of my friends knowing about it all and
+laughing at me--but it was the House too--my letting it down so.
+
+"I'd been thinking about you a good bit already.  You see you changed
+after Aunt Clare spoke to you that morning and I began to be rather
+afraid of you--and when a chap begins to be afraid of some one he
+begins to like him.  I got Aunt Clare and Uncle Garrett to go and speak
+to Dahlia, and they couldn't get anything out of her at all; so, then,
+I began to wonder whether you could do anything, and as soon as I began
+to wonder that I began to want to talk to you.  But I never got much
+chance; you were always in grandfather's room, and you didn't give me
+much encouragement, did you? and then--I began to be awfully miserable.
+I don't want to whine--I deserved it all right enough--but I didn't
+seem to have a friend anywhere and all my things that I'd believed in
+seemed to be worth nothing at all.  Then I wanted to talk to you
+awfully, and when grandfather was worse and was dying I began to see
+things straight--and then I saw Mary and she told me right out what I
+was, and I saw it all as clear as daylight.
+
+"And so; well, I've come--not to ask you to help me about Dahlia--but
+whether you'll help me to play the game better.  I wasn't always slack
+and rotten like I am now.  When I was in Germany I thought I was going
+to do all sorts of things ... but anyhow I can't say exactly all that I
+mean.  Only I'm awfully lonely and terribly ashamed; and I want you to
+forgive me for being so beastly to you----"
+
+He looked wretched enough as he sat there facing the fire with his lip
+quivering.  He made a strong effort to control himself, but in a moment
+he had broken down altogether and hid his head in the arm of the chair,
+sobbing as if his heart would break.
+
+Harry waited.  The moment for which he had longed so passionately had
+come at last; all those weary weeks had now received their reward.  But
+he was very tired and he could not remember anything except that his
+boy was there and that he was crying and wanted some one to help
+him--which was very sentimental.
+
+He got up from his chair and put his hand on Robin's shoulder.
+
+"Robin, old boy--don't; it's all right really.  I've been waiting for
+you to come and speak to me; of course, I knew that you would come.
+Never mind about those other things--we're going to have a splendid
+time, you and I."
+
+He put his arm round him.  There was a moment's silence, then the boy
+turned round and gripped his father's coat--then he buried his head in
+his father's knees.
+
+
+Benham entered half an hour later with Harry's evening meal.
+
+"I will have mine here, too, Benham," said Robin, "with my father."
+
+"There is one thing, Robin," said Harry a little later, laughing--"what
+about the letters?"
+
+"Oh, I know!"  Robin looked up at his father appealingly.  "I don't
+know what you must think of me over that business.  But I suppose I
+believed for a time in it all, and then when I saw that it wouldn't do
+I just wanted to get out of it as quickly as I could.  I never seem to
+have thought about it at all--and now I'm more ashamed than I can say.
+But I think I'll go through with it; I don't see that there's anything
+else very much for me to do, any other way of making up--I think I'd
+rather face it."
+
+"Would you?" said Harry.  "What about your friends and the House?"
+
+Robin flinched for a moment; then he said resolutely, "Yes, it would be
+better for them too.  You see they know already--the House, I mean.
+All the chaps in the dining-hall and the picture-gallery, they've known
+about it all day, and I know that they'd rather I didn't back out of
+it.  Besides--" he hesitated a moment.  "There's another thing--I have
+the kind of feeling that I can't have hurt Dahlia so very much if she's
+the kind of girl to carry that sort of thing through; if, I mean, she
+takes it like that she isn't the sort of girl that would mind very much
+what I had done----"
+
+"Is she," said Harry, "that sort of girl?"
+
+"No, I don't think she is.  That's what's puzzled me about it all.  She
+was worth twenty of me really.  But any decent sort of girl would have
+given them back----"
+
+"She has----"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Given them back."
+
+"The letters?"
+
+Harry went to his writing-table and produced the bundle.  They lay in
+his hand with the blue ribbon and the neat handwriting, "For Robert
+Trojan," outside.
+
+Robin stared.  "Not _the_ letters?"
+
+"Yes--the letters; I have had them some days."
+
+But still he did not move.  "_You've_ had them?--several days?"
+
+"Yes.  I went to see Miss Feverel on my own account and she gave me
+them----"
+
+"You had them when we asked you to help us!"
+
+"Yes--of course.  It was a little secret of my own and Miss
+Feverel's--our--if you like--revenge."
+
+"And we've been laughing at you, scorning you; and we tried--all of
+us--and could do nothing!  I say, you're the cleverest man in England!
+Score!  Why I should think you have!" and then he added, "But I'm
+ashamed--terribly.  You have known all these days and said nothing--and
+I!  I wonder what you've thought of me----"
+
+He took the letters into his hand and undid the ribbon slowly.  "I'm
+jolly glad you've known--it's as if you'd been looking after the family
+all this time, while we were plunging around in the dark.  What a
+score!  That we should have failed and you so absolutely succeeded--"
+Then again, "But I'm jolly ashamed--I'll tell you everything--always.
+We'll work together----"
+
+He looked them through and then flung them into the fire.
+
+"I've grown up," he suddenly cried; "come of age at last--at last I
+know."
+
+"Not too fast," said Harry, smiling; "it's only a stage.  There's
+plenty to learn--and we'll learn it together."  Then, after a pause,
+"There's another thing, though, that will astonish you a bit--I'm
+engaged----"
+
+"Engaged!" Robin stared.  Quickly before his eyes passed visions of
+terrible Colonial women--some entanglement that his father had
+contracted abroad and had been afraid to announce before.  Well,
+whatever it might be, he would stand by him!  It was they two against
+the world whatever happened!--and Robin felt already the anticipatory
+glow of self-sacrificing heroism.
+
+Harry smiled.  "Yes--Mary Bethel!"
+
+"Mary!  Hurrah!"
+
+He rushed at his father and seized his hand--"You and Mary!  Why, it's
+simply splendid!  The very thing--I'd rather it were she than any
+one!--she told me what she thought of me the other night, I can tell
+you--fairly went for me.  By Jove!  I'm glad--we'll have some times,
+three of us here together.  When was it?"
+
+"Oh! only this morning!  I had asked her before, but it was only
+settled this morning."
+
+Then Robin was suddenly grave.  "Oh! but, I say, there's Aunt
+Clare--and Uncle Garrett!"  He had utterly forgotten them.  What would
+they say?  The Bethels of all people!
+
+"Yes.  I've thought about it.  I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid Aunt
+Clare won't want to stay.  I don't see what's to be done.  I haven't
+told her yet----"
+
+Robin saw at once that he must choose his future; it was to be his aunt
+or his father.  His aunt with all those twenty years of faithful
+service behind her, his aunt who had done everything for him--or his
+father whom he had known for three weeks.  But he had no hesitation;
+there was now no question it was his father for ever against the world!
+
+"I'm sorry," he said slowly.  "Perhaps there will be some arrangement.
+Poor Aunt Clare!  Did you--tell grandfather?"
+
+"No.  I wanted to, but I had no opportunity.  But he knows--I am sure
+that he knows."
+
+Their thoughts passed to the old man.  It was almost as if he had been
+there in the room with them, and they felt, curiously, as though he had
+at that moment handed over the keys of the House.  For an instant they
+saw him; his eyes like diamonds, his wrinkled cheeks, his crooked
+fingers--and then his laugh.  "Harry, my boy, you'll do."
+
+"It's almost as if he was here," said Robin.  He turned round and put
+his hand in his father's.
+
+"I know he's pleased," he said.
+
+And so it was during the next week, through the funeral, and the
+gathering of relatives and the gradual dispersing of them again, and
+the final inevitable seclusion when the world and the relations and the
+dead had all joined in leaving the family alone.  The gathering of
+Trojans had shown, beyond a doubt, that Harry was quite fitted to take
+his place at the head of the family.  He had acted throughout with
+perfect tact and everything had gone without a hitch.  Many a Trojan
+had arrived for the funeral--mournful, red-eyed Trojans, with black
+crape and an air of deferential resignation that hinted, also, at
+curiosity as regards the successor.  They watched Harry, ready for
+anything that might gratify their longing for sensational failure; a
+man from the backwoods was certain to fail, and their chagrined
+disappointment was only solaced by their certainty of some little
+sensation in the announcement of his surprising success.
+
+Of course, Clare had been useful; it was on such an occasion that she
+appeared at her best.  She was kind to them all, but at the same time
+impressed the dignity of her position upon them, so that they went away
+declaring that Clare Trojan knew how to carry herself and was young for
+her years.
+
+The funeral was an occasion of great ceremony, and the town attended in
+crowds.  Harry realised in their altered demeanour to himself their
+appreciation of the value of his succession, and he knew that Sir Henry
+Trojan was something very different from the plain Harry.  But he had,
+from the beginning, taken matters very quietly.  Now that he was
+assured of the affection of the only two people who were of importance
+to him he could afford to treat with easy acquiescence anything else
+that Fate might have in store for him.  His diffidence, had, to some
+extent, left him, and he took everything that came with an ease that
+had been entirely foreign to him three weeks before.
+
+Clare might indeed wonder at the change in him, for she had not the key
+that unlocked the mystery.  The week seemed to draw father and son very
+closely together.  Years seemed to have made little difference in their
+outlook on things, and in some ways Robin was the elder of the two.
+They said nothing about Mary--that was to wait until after the funeral;
+but the consciousness of their secret added to the bond between them.
+
+Clare herself regarded the future complacently.  She was, she felt,
+absolutely essential to the right ruling of the House, and she
+intended, gradually but surely, to restore her command above and below
+stairs.  The only possible lion in her path was Harry's marrying, but
+of that there seemed no fear at all.
+
+She admired him a little for his conduct during their father's funeral;
+he was not such an oaf as she had thought--but she would bide her time.
+
+At last, however, the thunderbolt fell.  It was a week after the
+funeral, and they had reached dessert.  Clare sometimes stayed with
+them while they smoked, and, as a rule, conversation was not very
+general.  To-night, however, she rose to go.  Her black suited her; her
+dark hair, her dark eyes, the dark trailing clouds of her dress--it was
+magnificently sombre against the firelight and the shine of the
+electric lamps on the silver.  But Harry's "Wait a moment, Clare, I
+want to talk," called her back, and she stood by the door looking over
+her shoulder at him.
+
+Then when she saw from his glance that it was a matter of importance,
+she came back slowly again towards him.
+
+"Another family council?" said Garrett rather impatiently.  "We have
+had a generous supply lately."
+
+"I'm afraid this is imperative," said Harry.  "I am sorry to bother
+you, Clare, but this seems to me the best time."
+
+"Oh, any time suits me," she said indifferently, sitting down
+reluctantly.  "But if it's household affairs, I should think that we
+need hardly keep Garrett and Robin."
+
+"It is something that concerns us all four," said Harry.  "I am going
+to be married!"
+
+It had been from the beginning of things a Trojan dictum that the
+revealing of emotion was the worst of gaucheries--Clare, Garrett, and
+Robin himself had been schooled in this matter from their respective
+cradles; and now the lesson must be put into practice.
+
+For Robin, of course, it was no revelation at all, but he dared not
+look at his aunt; he understood a little what it must mean to her.  To
+those that watched her, however, nothing was revealed.  She stood by
+the fire, her hands at her side, her head slightly turned towards her
+brother.
+
+"Might I ask," she said quietly, "the name of the fortunate lady?"
+
+"Miss Bethel!"
+
+"Miss Bethel!"  Garrett sprang to his feet.  "Harry, you must be
+joking!  You can't mean it!  Not the daughter of Bethel at the
+Point--the madman!--the----"
+
+"Please, Garrett," said Harry, "remember that she has promised to be my
+wife.  I am sorry, Clare----"
+
+He turned round to his sister.
+
+But she had said nothing.  She pulled a chair from the table and sat
+down, quietly, without obvious emotion.
+
+"It is a little unexpected," she said.  "But really if we had
+considered things it was obvious enough.  It is all of a piece.  Robin
+tried for Breach of Promise, the Bethels in the house before father has
+been buried for three days--the policy and traditions of the last three
+hundred years upset in three weeks."
+
+"Of course," said Harry, "I could scarcely expect you to welcome the
+change.  You do not know Miss Bethel.  I am afraid you are a little
+prejudiced against her.  And, indeed, please--please, believe me that
+it has been my very last wish to go counter in any way to your own
+plans.  But it has seemed almost unavoidable; we have found that one
+thing after another has arisen about which we could not agree.  Is it
+too late now to reconsider the position?  Couldn't we pull together
+from this moment?"
+
+But she interrupted him.  "Come, Harry," she said, "whatever we are,
+let us avoid hypocrisy.  You have beaten me at every point and I must
+retire.  I have seen in three weeks everything that I had cared for and
+loved destroyed.  You come back a stranger, and without knowing or
+caring for the proper dignity of the House, you have done what you
+pleased.  Finally, you are bringing a woman into the House whose
+parents are beggars, whose social position makes her unworthy of such a
+marriage.  You cannot expect me to love you for it.  From this moment
+we cease to exist for each other.  I hope that I may never see you
+again or hear from you.  I shall not indulge in heroics or melodrama,
+but I will never forgive you.  I suppose that the house at Norfolk is
+at my disposal?"
+
+"Certainly," he answered.  Then he turned to his brother.  "I hope,
+Garrett," he said, "that you do not feel as strongly about the matter
+as Clare.  I should be very glad if you found it possible to remain."
+
+That gentleman was in a difficult position; he changed colour and tried
+to avoid his sister's eyes.  After a rapid survey of the position, he
+had come to the conclusion that he would not be nearly as comfortable
+in Norfolk--he could not write his book as easily, and the house had
+scarcely the same position of importance.  He had grown fond of the
+place.  Harry, after all, was not a bad chap--he seemed very anxious to
+be pleasant; and even Mary Bethel mightn't turn out so badly.
+
+"You see, Clare," he said slowly, "there is the book--and--well, on the
+whole, I think it would be almost better if I remained; it is not, of
+course, that----"
+
+Clare's lip curled scornfully.
+
+"I understand, Garrett, you could scarcely be expected to leave such
+comforts for so slight a reason.  And you, Robin?"
+
+She held the chair with her hand as she spoke.  The fury at her heart
+was such that she could scarcely breathe; she was quite calm, but she
+had a mad desire to seize Harry as he sat there at the table and
+strangle him with her hands.  And Garrett!--the contemptible coward!
+But if only Robin would come with her, then the rest mattered little.
+After all, it had only been a fortnight ago when he had stood at her
+side and rejected his father.  The scene now was parallel--her voice
+grew soft and trembled a little as she spoke to him.
+
+"Robin, dear, what will you do?  Will you come with me?"
+
+For a moment father and son looked at each other, then Robin answered--
+
+"I shall be very glad to come and stay sometimes, Aunt
+Clare--often--whenever you care to have me.  But I think that I must
+stay here.  I have been talking to father and I am going up to London
+to try, I think, for the Diplomatic.  We thought----"
+
+But the "we" was too much for her.
+
+"I congratulate you," she said, turning to Harry.  "You have done a
+great deal in three weeks.  It looks," she said, looking round the
+room, "almost like a conspiracy.  I----"  Then she suddenly broke down.
+She bent down over Robin and caught his head between her hands--
+
+"Robin--Robin dear--you must come, you must, dear.  I brought you up--I
+have loved you--always--always.  You can't leave me now, old boy, after
+all that I have done--all, everything.  Why, he has done
+nothing--he----"
+
+She kissed him again and again, and caught his hands: "Robin, I love
+you--you--only in all the world; you are all that I have got----"
+
+But he put her hands gently aside.  "Please--please--Aunt Clare, I am
+dreadfully sorry----"
+
+And then her pride returned to her.  She walked to the door with her
+head high.
+
+"I will go to the Darcy's in London until that other house is ready.  I
+will go to-morrow----"
+
+She opened the door, but Harry sprang up--
+
+"Please, Clare--don't go like that.  Think over it--perhaps
+to-morrow----"
+
+"Oh, let me go," she answered wearily; "I'm tired."
+
+She walked up the stairs to her room.  She could scarcely see--Robin
+had denied her!
+
+She shut the door of her bedroom behind her and fell at the foot of her
+bed, her face buried in her hands.  Then at last she burst into a storm
+of tears--
+
+"Robin!  Robin!" she cried.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+It was Christmas Eve and the Cove lay buried in snow.  The sea was grey
+like steel, and made no sound as it ebbed and flowed up the little
+creek.  The sky was grey and snowflakes fell lazily, idly, as though
+half afraid to let themselves go; a tiny orange moon glittered over the
+chimneys of "The Bended Thumb."
+
+Harry came out of the Inn and stood for a moment to turn up the collar
+of his coat.  The perfect stillness of the scene pleased him; the world
+was like the breathless moment before some great event: the opening of
+Pandora's box, the leaping of armed men from the belly of the wooden
+horse, the flashing of Excalibur over the mere, the birth of some
+little child.
+
+He sighed as he passed down the street.  He had read in his morning
+paper that the Cove was doomed.  The word had gone forth, the Town
+Council had decided; the Cove was to be pulled down and a street of
+lodging-houses was to take its place.  Pendragon would be no longer a
+place of contrasts; it would be all of a piece, a completely popular
+watering-place.
+
+The vision of its passing hurt him--so much must go with it; and
+gradually he saw the beauty and the superstition and the wonder being
+driven from the world--the Old World--and a hard Iron and Steel
+Materialism relentlessly taking its place.
+
+But he himself had changed; the place had had its influence on him, and
+he was beginning to see the beauty of these improvements, these
+manufactures, these hard straight lines and gaunt ugly squares.
+Progress?  Progress?  Inevitable?--yes!  Useful?--why, yes, too!  But
+beautiful?--Well, perhaps ... he did not know.
+
+At the top of the hill he turned and saluted the cold grey sky and sea
+and moor.  The Four Stones were in harmony to-day: white, and
+pearl-grey, with hints of purple in their shadows--oh beautiful and
+mysterious world!
+
+He went into the Bethels' to call for Mary.  Bethel appeared for a
+moment at the door of his study and shouted--
+
+"Hullo!  Harry, my boy!  Frightfully busy cataloguing!  Going out for a
+run in a minute!"--the door closed.
+
+His daughter's engagement seemed to have made little difference to him.
+He was pleased, of course, but Harry wondered sometimes whether he
+realised it at all.
+
+Not so Mrs. Bethel.  Arrayed in gorgeous colours, she was blissfully
+happy.  She was at the head of the stairs now.
+
+"Just a minute, Harry--Mary's nearly ready.  Oh! my dear, you haven't
+been out in that thin waistcoat ... but you'll catch your death--just a
+minute, my dear, and let me get something warmer?  Oh do!  Now you're
+an obstinate, bad man!  Yes, a bad, bad man"--but at this moment
+arrived Mary, and they said good-bye and were away.
+
+During the few weeks that they had been together there had been no
+cloud.  Pendragon had talked, but they had not listened to it; they had
+been perfectly, ideally happy.  They seemed to have known each other
+completely so long ago--not only their virtues but their faults and
+failures.
+
+With her arm in his they passed through the gate and found Robin
+waiting for them.
+
+"Hullo! you two!  I've just heard from Macfadden.  He suggests Catis in
+Dover Street for six months and then abroad.  He thinks I ought to pass
+easily enough in a year's time--and then it will mean Germany!"
+
+His face was lighted with excitement.
+
+"Right you are!" cried Harry.  "Anything that Macfadden suggests is
+sure to be pretty right.  What do you say, Mary?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know anything about men's businesses," she said, laughing.
+"Only don't be too long away, Robin."
+
+They passed down the garden, the three of them, together.
+
+
+In Norfolk a woman sat at her window and watched the snow tumbling
+softly against the panes.  The garden was a white sea--the hills loomed
+whitely beyond--the sky was grey with small white clouds, hanging like
+pillows heavily in mid-air.
+
+The snow whirled and tossed and danced.
+
+Clare turned slowly from the windows and drew down the blinds.
+
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+_Printed by_ R. & R. Clark, Limited, _Edinburgh_
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY HUGH WALPOLE
+
+
+_NOVELS_
+
+  THE WOODEN HORSE
+  MR. PERRIN AND MR. TRAILL
+  THE GREEN MIRROR
+  THE DARK FOREST
+  THE SECRET CITY
+
+_ROMANCES_
+
+  MARADICK AT FORTY
+  THE PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE
+  FORTITUDE
+  THE DUCHESS OF WREXE
+
+
+_BOOKS ABOUT CHILDREN_
+
+  THE GOLDEN SCARECROW
+  JEREMY
+
+
+_BELLES-LETTRES_
+
+  JOSEPH CONRAD: A Critical Study
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wooden Horse, by Hugh Walpole
+
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+<BODY>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wooden Horse, by Hugh Walpole
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Wooden Horse
+
+Author: Hugh Walpole
+
+Release Date: November 6, 2008 [EBook #27180]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOODEN HORSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-front"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="Hugh Walpole.  _From a photograph by Messrs. Elliott & Fry_" BORDER="0" WIDTH="414" HEIGHT="647">
+<H4 CLASS="h4center" STYLE="width: 414px">
+Hugh Walpole.  <I>From a photograph by Messrs. Elliott & Fry</I>
+</H4>
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE
+</H3>
+
+<H1 ALIGN="center">
+WOODEN HORSE
+</H1>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+BY
+</H3>
+
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+HUGH WALPOLE
+</H2>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+WITH A PORTRAIT
+</H3>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
+<BR>
+ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
+<BR>
+1919
+</H4>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H5 ALIGN="center">
+MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
+<BR>
+LONDON &mdash; BOMBAY &mdash; CALCUTTA &mdash; MADRAS<BR>
+MELBOURNE<BR>
+<BR><BR>
+THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+<BR>
+NEW YORK &mdash; BOSTON &mdash; CHICAGO<BR>
+DALLAS &mdash; SAN FRANCISCO<BR>
+<BR><BR>
+THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
+<BR>
+TORONTO<BR>
+</H5>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H5 ALIGN="center">
+COPYRIGHT
+<BR><BR>
+<I>First Published April 1909<BR>
+Second Impression October 1909<BR>
+Wayfarers' Library 1914<BR>
+New Edition 1919</I><BR>
+</H5>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+TO
+<BR>
+W. FERRIS
+<BR>
+AFFECTIONATELY
+</H3>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H5 ALIGN="center">
+"<I>Er liebte jeden Hund, und wünschte von jedem Hund geliebt<BR>
+zu sein.</I>"&mdash;FLEGELJAHRE (JEAN PAUL).<BR>
+</H5>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<P>
+<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%">
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<A HREF="#chap01">CHAPTER I</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<A HREF="#chap02">CHAPTER II</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<A HREF="#chap03">CHAPTER III</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%">
+<A HREF="#chap04">CHAPTER IV</A>
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap05">CHAPTER V</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap06">CHAPTER VI</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap07">CHAPTER VII</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII</A>
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap09">CHAPTER IX</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap10">CHAPTER X</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap11">CHAPTER XI</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap12">CHAPTER XII</A>
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap15">CHAPTER XV</A>
+</TD>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI</A>
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+</TABLE>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap01"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER I
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Robin Trojan was waiting for his father.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Through the open window of the drawing-room came, faintly, the cries of
+the town&mdash;the sound of some distant bell, the shout of fishermen on the
+quay, the muffled beat of the mining-stamps from Porth-Vennic, a
+village that lay two miles inland.  There yet lingered in the air the
+faint afterglow of the sunset, and a few stars, twinkling faintly in
+the deep blue of the night sky, seemed reflections of the orange lights
+of the herring-boats, flashing far out to sea.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The great drawing-room, lighted by a cluster of electric lamps hanging
+from the ceiling, seemed to flaunt the dim twinkle of the stars
+contemptuously; the dark blue of the walls and thick Persian carpets
+sounded a quieter note, but the general effect was of something
+distantly, coldly superior, something indeed that was scarcely
+comfortable, but that was, nevertheless, fulfilling the exact purpose
+for which it had been intended.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And that purpose was, most certainly, not comfort.  Robin himself would
+have smiled contemptuously if you had pleaded for something homely,
+something suggestive of roaring fires and cosy armchairs, instead of
+the stiff-backed, beautifully carved Louis XIV. furniture that stood,
+each chair and table rigidly in its appointed place, as though bidding
+defiance to any one bold enough to attempt alterations.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The golden light in the sky shone faintly in at the open window, as
+though longing to enter, but the dazzling brilliance of the room seemed
+to fling it back into the blue dome of sea and sky outside.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin was standing by a large looking-glass in the corner of the room
+trying to improve the shape of his tie; and it was characteristic of
+him that, although he had not seen his father for eighteen years, he
+was thinking a great deal more about his tie than about the approaching
+meeting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was, at this time, twenty years of age.  Tall and dark, he had all
+the Trojan characteristics; small, delicately shaped ears; a mouth that
+gave signs of all the Trojan obstinacy, called by the Trojans
+themselves family pride; a high, well-shaped forehead with hair closely
+cut and of a dark brown.  He was considered by most people
+handsome&mdash;but to some his eyes, of the real Trojan blue, were too cold
+and impassive.  He gave you the impression of some one who watched,
+rather disdainfully, the ill-considered and impulsive actions of his
+fellow-men.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was, however, exactly suited to his surroundings.  He maintained the
+same position as the room with regard to the world in general&mdash;"We are
+Trojans; we are very old and very expensive and very, very good, and it
+behoves you to recognise this fact and give way with fitting deference."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had not seen his father for eighteen years, and, as he had been
+separated from him at the unimpressionable age of two, he may be said
+never to have seen him at all.  He had no recollection of him, and the
+picture that he had painted was constructed out of monthly rather
+uninteresting letters concerned, for the most part, with the care and
+maintenance of New Zealand sheep, and such meagre details as his Aunt
+Clare and Uncle Garrett had bestowed on him from time to time.  From
+the latter he gathered that his father had been, in his youth, in some
+vague way, unsatisfactory, and had departed to Australia to seek his
+fortune, with a clear understanding from his father that he was not to
+return thence until he had found it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin himself had been born in New Zealand, but his mother dying when
+he was two years old, he had been sent home to be brought up, in the
+proper Trojan manner, by his aunt and uncle.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On these things Robin reflected as he tried to twist his tie into a
+fitting Trojan shape; but it refused to behave as a well-educated tie
+should, and the obvious thing was to get another.  Robin looked at his
+watch.  It was really extremely provoking; the carriage had been timed
+to arrive at half-past six exactly; it was now a quarter to seven and
+no one had appeared.  There was probably not time to search for another
+tie.  His father would be certain to arrive at the very moment when one
+tie was on and the other not yet on, which meant that Robin would be
+late; and if there was one thing that a Trojan hated more than another
+it was being late.  With many people unpunctuality was a fault, with a
+Trojan it was a crime; it was what was known as an "odds and ends"&mdash;one
+of those things, like untidiness, eating your fish with a steel knife
+and wearing a white tie with a short dinner-jacket, that marked a man,
+once and for all, as some one outside the pale, an impossible person.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Therefore Robin allowed his tie to remain and walked to the open window.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"At any rate," he said to himself, still thinking of his tie, "father
+won't probably notice it."  He wondered how much his father <I>would</I>
+notice.  "As he's a Trojan," he thought, "he'll know the sort of things
+that a fellow ought to do, even though he has been out in New Zealand
+all his life."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It would, Robin reflected, be a very pretty little scene.  He liked
+scenes, and, if this one were properly manoeuvred, he ought to be its
+very interesting and satisfactory centre.  That was why it was really a
+pity about the tie.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The door from the library swung slowly open, and Sir Jeremy Trojan,
+Robin's grandfather, was wheeled into the room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was very old indeed, and the only part of his face that seemed alive
+were his eyes; they were continually darting from one end of the room
+to the other, they were never still; but, for the rest, he scarcely
+moved.  His skin was dried and brown like a mummy's, and even when he
+spoke, his lips hardly stirred.  He was in evening dress, his legs
+wrapped tightly in rugs; his chair was wheeled by a servant who was
+evidently perfectly trained in all the Trojan ways of propriety and
+decorum.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, grandfather," said Robin, turning back from the window with the
+look of annoyance still on his face, "how are you to-night?"  Robin
+always shouted at his grandfather although he knew perfectly well that
+he was not deaf, but could, on the other hand, hear wonderfully well
+for his age.  Nothing annoyed his grandfather so much as being shouted
+at, and of this Robin was continually reminded.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Tut, tut, boy," said Sir Jeremy testily, "one would think that I was
+deaf.  Better?  Yes, of course.  Close the windows!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'll ring for Marchant," said Robin, moving to the bell, "he ought to
+have done it before."  Sir Jeremy said nothing&mdash;it was impossible to
+guess at his thoughts from his face; only his eyes moved uneasily round
+the room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was wheeled to his accustomed corner by the big open stone
+fireplace, and he lay there, motionless in his chair, without further
+remark.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Marchant came in a moment later.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The windows, Marchant," said Robin, still twisting uneasily at his
+tie, "I think you had forgotten."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am sorry, sir," Marchant answered, "but Mr. Garrett had spoken this
+morning of the room being rather close.  I had thought that perhaps&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He moved silently across the room and shut the window, barring out the
+fluttering yellow light, the sparkling silver of the stars, the orange
+of the fishing-boats, the murmured distance of the town.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A few moments later Clare Trojan came in.  Although she had never been
+beautiful she had always been interesting, and indeed she was (even
+when in the company of women far more beautiful than herself) always
+one of the first to whom men looked.  This may have been partly
+accounted for by her very obvious pride, the quality that struck the
+most casual observer at once, but there was also an air of
+indifference, a look in the eyes that seemed to pique men's curiosity
+and stir their interest.  It was not for lack of opportunity that she
+was still unmarried, but she had never discovered the man who had
+virtue and merit sufficient to cover the obvious disadvantages of his
+not having been born a Trojan.  Middle age suited the air of almost
+regal dignity with which she moved, and people who had known her for
+many years said that she had never looked so well as now.  To-night, in
+a closely-fitting dress of black silk relieved by a string of pearls
+round her neck, and a superb white rose at her breast, she was almost
+handsome.  Robin watched her with satisfaction as she moved towards him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, it's cold," she said.  "I know Marchant left those windows open
+till the last moment.  Robin, your tie is shocking.  It looks as if it
+were made-up."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I know," said Robin, still struggling with it; "but there isn't time
+to get another.  Father will be here at any moment.  It's late as it
+is.  Yes, I told Marchant to shut the windows, he said something about
+Uncle Garrett's saying it was stuffy or something."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Harry's late."  Clare moved across to her father and bent down and
+kissed him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How are you to-night, father?" but she was arranging the rose at her
+breast and was obviously thinking more of its position than of the
+answer to her question.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hungry&mdash;damned hungry," said Sir Jeremy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, we'll have to wait," said Clare.  "Harry's got to dress.  Anyhow
+you've got no right to be hungry at a quarter to seven.  Nobody's ever
+hungry till half-past seven at the earliest."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was evident that she was ill at ease.  Perhaps it was the prospect
+of meeting her brother after a separation of eighteen years; perhaps it
+was anxiety as to how this reclaimed son of the house of Trojan would
+behave in the face of the world.  It was so very important that the
+house should not be in any way let down, that the dignity with which it
+had invariably conducted its affairs for the last twenty years should
+be, in no way, impaired.  Harry had been anything but dignified in his
+early days, and sheep-farming in New Zealand&mdash;well, of course, one knew
+what kind of life that was.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But, as she looked across at Robin, it was easy to see that her anxiety
+was, in some way, connected with him.  How was this invasion to affect
+her nephew?  For eighteen years she had been the only father and mother
+that he had known, for eighteen years she had educated him in all the
+Trojan laws and traditions, the things that a Trojan must speak and do
+and think, and he had faithfully responded to her instruction.  He was
+in every way everything that a Trojan should be; but there had been
+moments, rare indeed and swiftly passing, when Clare had fancied that
+there were other impulses, other ideas at work.  She was afraid of
+those impulses, and she was afraid of what Henry Trojan might do with
+regard to them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was, indeed, hard, after reigning absolutely for eighteen years, to
+yield her place to another, but perhaps, after all, Robin would be true
+to his early training and she would not be altogether supplanted.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Randal comes to-morrow," said Robin suddenly, after a few minutes'
+silence.  "Unfortunately he can only stop for a few days.  His paper on
+'Pater' has been taken by the <I>National</I>.  He's very much pleased, of
+course."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin spoke coldly and without any enthusiasm.  It was not considered
+quite good form to be enthusiastic; it was apt to lead you into rather
+uncertain company with such people as Socialists and the Salvation Army.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm glad he's coming&mdash;quite a nice fellow," said Clare, looking at the
+gold clock on the mantelpiece.  "The train is shockingly late.  On
+'Pater' you said!  I must try and get the <I>National</I>&mdash;Miss Ponsonby
+takes it, I think.  It's unusual for Garrett to be unpunctual."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He entered at the same moment&mdash;a tall, thin man of forty years of age,
+clean shaven and rather bald, with a very slight squint in the right
+eye.  He walked slowly, and always gave the impression that he saw
+nothing of his surroundings.  For the rest, he was said to be extremely
+cynical and had more than a fair share of the Trojan pride.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The train is late," he said, addressing no one in particular.
+"Father, how are you this evening?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This third attack on Sir Jeremy was repelled by a snort, which Garrett
+accepted as an answer.  "Robin, your tie is atrocious," he continued,
+picking up the <I>Times</I> and opening it slowly; "you had better change
+it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin was prevented from answering by the sound of carriage-wheels on
+the drive.  Clare rose and stood by the fireplace near Sir Jeremy;
+Garrett read to the end of the paragraph and folded the paper on his
+knee; Robin fingered his watch-chain nervously and moved to his aunt's
+side&mdash;only Sir Jeremy remained motionless and gave no sign that he had
+heard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Perhaps he was thinking of that day twenty years before when, after a
+very heated interview, he had forbidden his son to see his face again
+until he had done something that definitely justified his existence.
+Harry had certainly done several things since then that justified his
+existence; he had, for one thing, made a fortune, and that was not so
+easily done nowadays.  Harry was five-and-forty now; he must be very
+much changed; he had steadied down, of course ...  he would be well
+able to take his place as head of the family when Sir Jeremy himself....
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he gave no sign.  You could not tell that he had heard the
+carriage-wheels at all; he lay motionless in his chair with his eyes
+half closed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There were voices in the hall.  Beldam's superlatively courteous tones
+as of one who is ready to die to serve you, and then another
+voice&mdash;rather loud and sharp, but pleasant, with the sound of a laugh
+in it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They are in the blue drawing-room, sir&mdash;Mr. Henry," Beldam's voice was
+heard on the stairs, and, in a moment, Beldam himself appeared&mdash;"Mr.
+Henry, Sir Jeremy."  Then he stood aside, and Henry Trojan entered the
+room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare made a step forward.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Harry&mdash;old boy&mdash;at last&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Both her hands were outstretched, but he disregarded them, and,
+stepping forward, crushed her in his arms, crushed her dress, crushed
+the beautiful rose at her breast, and, bending down, kissed her again
+and again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Clare&mdash;after twenty years!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He let her go and she stepped back, still smiling, but she touched the
+rose for a moment and her hair.  He was very strong.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And then there was a little pause.  Harry Trojan turned and faced his
+father.  The old man made no movement and gave no sign, but he said,
+his lips stirring very slightly, "I am glad to see you here again,
+Harry."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The man flushed, and with a little stammer answered, "I am gladder to
+be back than you can know, father."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sir Jeremy's wrinkled hand appeared from behind the rugs, and the two
+men shook in silence.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then Garrett came forward.  "You're not much changed, Harry," he said
+with a laugh, "in spite of the twenty years."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, Garrie!"  His brother stepped towards him and laid a hand on his
+shoulder.  "It's splendid to see you again.  I'd almost forgotten what
+you were like&mdash;I only had that old photo, you know&mdash;of us both at
+Rugby."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin had stood aside, in a corner by the fireplace, watching his
+father.  It was very much as he had expected, only he couldn't, try as
+he might, think of him as his father at all.  The man there who had
+kissed Aunt Clare and shaken hands with Sir Jeremy was, in some
+unexplained way, a little odd and out of place.  He was big and strong;
+his hair curled a little and was dark brown, like Robin's, and his eyes
+were blue, but, in other respects, there was very little of the Trojan
+about him.  His mouth was large, and he had a brown, slightly curling
+moustache.  Indeed the general impression was brown in spite of the
+blue, badly fitting suit.  He was deeply tanned by the sun and was
+slightly freckled.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He would have looked splendid in New Zealand or Klondyke, or, indeed,
+anywhere where you worked with your coat off and your shirt open at the
+neck; but here, in that drawing-room, it was a pity, Robin thought,
+that his father had not stopped for two or three days in town and gone
+to a West End tailor.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But, after all, it was a very nice little scene.  It really had been
+quite moving to see him kiss Clare like that, but, at the same time,
+for his part, kissing...!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And Robin?" said Harry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Here's the son and heir," said Garrett, laughing, and pushing Robin
+forward.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now that the moment had really come, Robin was most unpleasantly
+embarrassed.  How foolish of Uncle Garrett to try and be funny at a
+time like that, and what a pity it was that his tie was sticking out at
+one end so much farther than at the other.  He felt his hand seized and
+crushed in the grip of a giant; he murmured something about his being
+pleased, and then, suddenly, his father bent down and kissed him on the
+forehead.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They were both blushing, Robin furiously.  How he hated sentiment!  He
+felt sure that Uncle Garrett was laughing at him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By Jove, you're splendid!" said Harry, holding him back with both his
+hands on his shoulders.  "Pretty different from the nipper that I sent
+over to England eighteen years ago.  Oh, you'll do, Robin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And now, Harry," said Clare, laughing, "you'll go and dress, won't
+you?  Father's terribly hungry and the train was late."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Right," said Harry; "I won't be long.  It's good to be back again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When the door had closed behind him, there was silence.  He gave the
+impression of some one filled with overwhelming, rapturous joy.  There
+was a light in his eyes that told of dreams at length fulfilled, and
+hopes, long and wearily postponed, at last realised.  He had filled
+that stiff, solemn room with a spirit of life and strength and sheer
+animal good health&mdash;it was even, as Clare afterwards privately
+confessed, a little exhausting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now she stood by the fireplace, smiling a little.  "My poor rose," she
+said, looking at some of the petals that had fallen to the ground.
+"Harry is strong!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He is looking well," said Garrett.  It sounded almost sarcastic.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin went up to his room to change his tie&mdash;he had said nothing about
+his father.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As Harry Trojan passed down the well-remembered passages where the
+pictures hung in the same odd familiar places, past staircases
+vanishing into dark abysses that had frightened him as a child, windows
+deep-set in the thick stone walls, corners round which he had crept in
+the dark on his way to his room, it seemed to him that those long,
+dreary years of patient waiting in New Zealand were as nothing, and
+that it was only yesterday that he had passed down that same way, his
+heart full of rage against his father, his one longing to get out and
+away to other countries where he should be his own master and win his
+own freedom.  And now that he was back again, now that he had seen what
+that freedom meant, now that he had tasted that same will-o'-the-wisp
+liberty, how thankful he was to rest here quietly, peacefully, for the
+remainder of his days; at last he knew what were the things that were
+alone, in this world, worth striving for&mdash;not money, ambition, success,
+but love for one's own little bit of country that one called home, the
+patient resting in the heritage of all those accumulating traditions
+that ancestors had been making, slowly, gradually, for centuries of
+years.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had hoped that he would have the same old rooms at the top of the
+West Towers that he had had when a boy; he remembered the view of the
+sea from their windows&mdash;the great sweep of the Cornish coast far out to
+Land's End itself, and the gulls whirring with hoarse cries over his
+head as he leant out to view the little cove nestling at the foot of
+the Hall.  That view, then, had meant to him distant wonderful lands in
+which he was to make his name and his fortune: now it spoke of home and
+peace, and, beyond all, of Cornwall.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had put him in one of the big spare rooms that faced inland.  As
+he entered the sense of its luxury filled him with a delicious feeling
+of comfort: the log-fire burning in the open brown-tiled fireplace, the
+softness of the carpets, the electric light, shaded to a soft glow&mdash;ah!
+these were the things for which he had waited, and they had, indeed,
+been worth waiting for.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His man was laying his dress-clothes on his bed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What is your name?" he said, feeling almost a little shy; it was so
+long since he had had things done for him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"James Treduggan, sir," the man answered, smiling.  "You won't remember
+me, sir, I expect.  I was quite a youngster when you went away.  But
+I've been in service here ever since I was ten."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When Harry was left alone, he stood by the fire, thinking.  He had been
+preparing for this moment for so long that now that it was actually
+here he was frightened, nervous.  He had so often imagined that first
+arrival in England, the first glimpse of London; then the first meeting
+and the first evening at home.  Of course, all his thoughts had centred
+on Robin&mdash;everything else had been secondary, but he had, in some
+unaccountable way, never been able to realise exactly what Robin would
+be.  He had had photographs, but they had been unsatisfactory and had
+told him nothing; and now that he had seen him, he was at rest; he was
+all that he had hoped&mdash;straight, strong, manly, with that clear steady
+look in the eyes that meant so much; yes, there was no doubt about his
+son.  He remembered Robin's mother with affectionate tenderness; she
+had been the daughter of a doctor in Auckland&mdash;he had fallen in love
+with her at once and married her, although his prospects had been so
+bad.  They had been very happy, and then, when Robin was two years old,
+she had died; the boy had been sent home, and he had been alone
+again&mdash;for eighteen years he had been alone.  There had been other
+women, of course; he did not pretend to have been a saint, and women
+had liked him and been rather sorry for him in those early years; but
+they had none of them been very much to him, only episodes&mdash;the central
+fact of his existence had always been his son.  He had had a friend
+there, a Colonel Durand, who had three sons of his own, and had given
+him much advice as to his treatment of Robin.  He had talked a great
+deal about the young generation, about its impatience of older theories
+and manners, its dislike of authority and restraint; and Harry,
+remembering his own early hatred of restriction and longing for
+freedom, was determined that he would be no fetter on his son's
+liberty, that he would be to him a friend, a companion rather than a
+father.  After all, he felt no more than twenty-five&mdash;there was really
+no space of years between them&mdash;he was as young to-day as he had been
+twenty years ago.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As to the others, he had never cared very much for Clare and Garrett in
+the old days; they had been stiff, cold, lacking all sense of family
+affection.  But that had been twenty years ago.  There had been a time,
+in New Zealand, when he had hated Garrett.  When he had been away from
+home for some ten years, the longing to see his boy had grown too
+strong to be resisted, and he had written to his father asking for
+permission to return.  He had received a cold answer from Garrett,
+saying that Sir Jeremy thought that, as he was so successful there, it
+would be perhaps better if he remained there a little while longer;
+that he would find little to do at home and would only weary of the
+monotony&mdash;four closely written pages to the same effect.  So Harry had
+remained.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But that was ten years ago.  At last, a letter had come, saying that
+Sir Jeremy was now very old and feeble, that he desired to see his son
+before he died, and that all the past was forgotten and forgiven.  And
+now there was but one thought in his heart&mdash;love for all the world, one
+overwhelming desire to take his place amongst them decently, worthily,
+so that they might see that the wastrel of twenty years ago had
+developed into a man, able to take his place, in due time, at the head
+of the Trojan family.  Oh! how he would try to please them all! how he
+would watch and study and work so that that long twenty years' exile
+might be forgotten both by himself and by them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He bathed and dressed slowly by the fire.  As he saw his clothes on the
+bed he fancied, for a moment, that they might be a little worn, a
+little old.  They had seemed very good and smart in Auckland, but in
+England it was rather different.  He almost wished that he had stayed
+in London for two days and been properly fitted by a tailor.  But then
+he had been so eager to arrive, he had not thought of clothes; his one
+idea had been to rush down as soon as possible and see them all, and
+the place, and the town.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then he remembered that Clare had asked him to be quick.  He finished
+his dressing hurriedly, turned out the electric light, and left the
+room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was pleased to find that he had not forgotten the turns and twists
+of the house.  He threaded the dark passages easily, humming a little
+tune, and smelling that same sweet scent of dried rose leaves that he
+had known so well when he was a small boy.  He could see, in
+imagination, the great white-and-pink china pot-pourri bowls standing
+at the corner of the stairs&mdash;nothing was changed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The blue drawing-room was deserted when he entered it&mdash;only the blaze
+of the electric light, the golden flame of the log-fire in the great
+open fireplace, and the solemn ticking of the gold clock that had stood
+there, in the same place of honour, for the last hundred years.  He
+passed over to the windows and flung them open; the hum of the town
+came, with the cold night air, into the room.  The stars were brilliant
+to-night and the golden haze of the lamplight hung over the streets
+like a magic curtain.  Ah! how good it was!  The peace of it, the
+comfort, the homeliness!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Above all, it was Cornwall&mdash;the lights of the herring fleet, the
+distant rhythmical beat of the mining-stamps, that peculiar scent as of
+precious spices coming with the wind of the sea, as though borne from
+distant magical lands, all told him that he was, at last, again in
+Cornwall.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He drank in the night air, bending his eyes on the town as though he
+were saluting it again, tenderly, joyously, with the greeting of an old
+familiar friend.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin closed the door behind him and shivered a little.  The windows
+were open&mdash;how annoying when Aunt Clare had especially asked that they
+should be closed.  Oh! it was his father!  Of course, he did not know!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had not been noticed, so he coughed.  Harry turned round.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hullo, Robin, my boy!"  He passed his arm through his son's and drew
+him to the window.  "Isn't it splendid?" he said.  "Oh!  I don't
+suppose you see it now, after having been here all this time; you want
+to go away for twenty years, then you'd know how much it's worth.  Oh!
+it's splendid&mdash;what times we'll have here, you and I!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," said Robin, a little coldly.  It was very chilly with the window
+open, and there was something in all that enthusiasm that was almost a
+little vulgar.  Of course, it was natural, after being away so long ...
+but still....  Also his father's clothes were really very old&mdash;the back
+of the coat was quite shiny.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sir Jeremy entered in his chair, followed by Clare and Garrett.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare gave a little scream.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  How cold!" she cried.  "Now whoever&mdash;&mdash;!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm afraid I was guilty," said Harry, laughing.  "The town looked so
+splendid and I hadn't seen it for so long.  I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course, I forgot," said Clare.  "I don't suppose you notice open
+windows in New Zealand, because you're always outside in the Bush or
+something.  But here we're as shivery as you make them.  Dinner's
+getting shivery too.  The sooner we go down the better."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She passed back through the door and down the hall.  There was no doubt
+that she was a magnificent woman.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As Sir Jeremy was wheeled through the doors he gripped Harry's hand.
+"I'm damned glad that you're back," he whispered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin, who was the last to leave the room, closed the windows and
+turned out the lights.  The room was in darkness save for the golden
+light of the leaping fire.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap02"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER II
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+It had been called the "House of the Flutes" since the beginning of
+time.  People had said that the name was absurd, and Harry's
+grandfather, a prosaic gentleman of rather violent radical opinions,
+had made a definite attempt at a change&mdash;but he had failed.  Trojans
+had appeared from every part of the country, angry Trojans, tearful
+Trojans, indignant Trojans, important Trojans, poor-relation Trojans,
+and had, one and all, demanded that the name should remain, and that
+the headquarters of the Trojan tradition, of the Trojan power, should
+continue to be the "House of the Flutes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Of course, it had its origin in tradition.  In the early days when
+might was right, and the stronger seized the worldly goods of the
+weaker and nobody said him nay, there had been a Sir Jeremy Trojan
+whose wife had been the talk of the country-side both because of her
+beauty and also because of her easy morals.  Sir Jeremy having departed
+on a journey, the lovely Lady Clare entertained a neighbouring baron at
+her husband's bed and board, and for two days all was well.  But Sir
+Jeremy unexpectedly returned, and, being a gentleman of a pleasant
+fancy, walled up the room in which he had found the erring couple and
+left them inside.  He then sat outside, and listened with a gentle
+pleasure to their cries, and, being a musician of no mean quality,
+played on the flute from time to time to prevent the hours from being
+wearisome.  For three days he sat there, until there came no more
+sounds from that room; then he pursued his ordinary affairs, but sought
+no other wife&mdash;a grim little man with a certain sense of humour.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There are many other legends connected with the house; you will find
+them in Baedeker, where it also says: "Kind permission is accorded by
+Sir Henry Trojan to visitors who desire to see the rooms during the
+residence of the family in London.  Special attention should be paid to
+the gold Drawing-room with its magnificent carving, the Library with
+its fine collection of old prints, and the Long Gallery with the family
+portraits, noticing especially the Vandyke of Sir Hilary Trojan
+(<I>temp.</I> Ch. I.), and a little sketch by Turner of the view from the
+West Tower.  The gardens, too, are well worth a short inspection,
+special mention being made of the Long Terrace with its magnificent
+sea-view.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A small charge is made by Sir Henry for admittance (adults sixpence,
+children half-price), with a view to benefiting the church, a building
+recently restored and sadly in need of funds."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So far Baedeker (Cornwall, new ed., 1908).  The house is astonishingly
+beautiful, seen from any point of view.  Added to from time to time, it
+has that air of surprise, as of a building containing endless secrets,
+only some of which it intends to reveal.  It is full of corners and
+angles, and at the same time preserves a symmetry and grandeur of style
+that is surprising, if one considers its haphazard construction and
+random additions.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Part of its beauty is undoubtedly owing to its superb position.  It
+rises from the rock, over the grey town at its feet, like a protecting
+deity, its two towers to west and east, raised like giant hands, its
+grey walls rising sheer from the steep, shelving rock; behind it the
+gentle rise of hills, bending towards the inland valleys; in front of
+it an unbroken stretch of sea.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It strikes the exact note that is in harmony with its colour and
+surroundings: the emblem of some wild survival from dark ages when that
+spot had been one of the most uncivilised in the whole of Britain&mdash;a
+land of wild, uncouth people, living in a state of perpetual watch and
+guard, fearing the sea, fearing the land, cringingly superstitious
+because of their crying need of supernatural defence; and, indeed,
+there is nothing more curious in the Cornwall of to-day than this
+perpetual reminder of past superstitions, dead gods, strange pathetic
+survival of heathen ancestry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The town of Pendragon, lying at the foot of the "House of the Flutes,"
+had little of this survival of former custom about it; it was rapidly
+developing into that temple of British middle-class mediocrity, a
+modern watering-place.  It had, in the months of June, July, and
+August, nigger minstrels, a café chantant, and a promenade, with six
+bathing-machines and two donkeys; two new hotels had sprung up within
+the last two years, a sufficient sign of its prosperity.  No, Pendragon
+was doing its best to forget its ancient superstitions, and even seemed
+to regard the "House of the Flutes" a little resentfully because of its
+reminder of a time when men scaled the rocks and stormed the walls, and
+fell back dying and cursing into their ships riding at anchor in the
+little bay.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Very different was Cullin's Cove, the little fishing-village that lay
+slightly to the right of the town.  Here traditions were carefully
+guarded; a strict watch was kept on the outside world, and strangers
+were none too cheerfully received.  Here, "down-along," was the old,
+the true Cornwall&mdash;a land that had changed scarcely at all since those
+early heathen days that to the rest of the world are dim, mysterious,
+mythological, but to a Cornishman are as the events of yesterday.  High
+on the moor behind the Cove stand four great rocks&mdash;wild, wind-beaten,
+grimly permanent.  It is under their guardianship that the Cove lies,
+and it is something more than a mere superstitious reverence that those
+inhabitants of "down-along" pay to those darkly mysterious figures.
+Seen in the fading light of the dying day, when Cornish mists are
+winding and twisting over the breast of the moor, these four rocks seem
+to take a living shape, to grow in size, and to whisper to those that
+care to hear old stories of the slaughter that had stained the soil at
+their feet on an earlier day.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From Harry's windows the town and the sea were hidden.  Immediately
+below him lay the tennis-lawns and the rose-garden, and, gleaming in
+the distance, at the end of the Long Walk, two white statues that had
+fascinated him in his boyhood.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His first waking thought on the morning after his arrival was to look
+for those statues, and when he saw them gleaming in the sun just as
+they used to do, there swept over him a feeling of youth and vigour
+such as he had never known before.  Those twenty years in New Zealand
+were, after all, to go for nothing; they were to be as though they had
+had no existence, and he was to be the young energetic man of
+twenty-five, able to enter into his son's point of view, able to share
+his life and vitality, and, at the same time, to give him the benefit
+of his riper experience.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Through his open window came the faint, distant beating of the sea; a
+bird flew past him, a white flash of light; some one was singing the
+refrain of a Cornish "chanty"&mdash;the swing of the tune came up to him
+from the garden, and some of the words beat like little bells upon his
+brain, calling up endless memories of his boyhood.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He looked at his watch and found that it was nine o'clock.  He had no
+idea that it was so late; he had asked to be called at seven, but he
+had slept so soundly that he had not heard his man enter with his
+shaving water; it was quite cold now, and his razors were terribly
+blunt.  He cut himself badly, a thing that he scarcely ever did.  But
+it was really unfortunate, on this first morning when he had wanted
+everything to be at its best.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He came down to the breakfast-room humming.  The house seemed a palace
+of gold on this wonderful September morning; the light came in floods
+through the great windows at the head of the stairs, and shafts of
+golden light struck the walls and the china potpourri bowls and flashed
+wonderful colours out of a great Venetian vase that stood by the hall
+door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He found Garrett and Robin breakfasting alone; Clare and Sir Jeremy
+always had breakfast in their own rooms.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm afraid I'm awfully late," said Harry cheerfully, clapping his
+brother on the back and putting his hand for a minute on Robin's
+shoulder; "things all cold?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh no," said Garrett, scarcely looking up from his morning paper.
+"Damned good kidneys!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin said nothing.  He was watching his father curiously.  It was one
+of the Trojan rules that you never talked at breakfast; it was such an
+impossible meal altogether, and one was always at one's worst at that
+time of the morning.  Robin wondered whether his father would recognise
+this elementary rule or whether he would talk, talk, talk, as he had
+done last night.  They had had rather a bad time last night; Aunt Clare
+had had a headache, but his father had talked continuously&mdash;about sheep
+and Maories and the Pink Terraces.  It had been just like a parish-room
+magic-lantern lecture&mdash;"Some hours with our friends the Maories"&mdash;it
+had been very tiring; poor Aunt Clare had grown whiter and whiter; it
+was quite a relief when dinner had come to an end.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry helped himself to kidneys and sat down by Robin, still humming
+the refrain of the Cornish song he had heard at his window.  "By Jove,
+I'm late&mdash;mustard, Robin, my boy&mdash;can't think how I slept like that.
+Why, in New Zealand I was always up with the lark&mdash;had to be, you know,
+there was always such heaps to do&mdash;the bread, old boy, if you can get
+hold of it.  I remember once getting up at three in the morning to go
+and play cricket somewhere&mdash;fearful hot day it was, but I knocked up
+fifty, I remember.  Probably the bowling was awfully soft, although I
+remember one chap&mdash;Pulling, friend of Durand's&mdash;could fairly twist 'em
+down the pitch&mdash;made you damned well jump.  Talking of cricket, I
+suppose you play, Robin?  Did you get your cap or whatever they call
+it&mdash;College colours, you know?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, cricket!" said Robin indifferently.  "No, I didn't play.  The
+chaps at King's who ran the games were rather outers&mdash;pretty thoroughly
+barred by the decent men.  None of the 'Gracchi' went in for the
+sports."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!" said Harry, considerably surprised.  "And who the deuce are the
+'Gracchi'?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A society I was on," said Robin, a little wearily&mdash;it was so annoying
+to be forced to talk at breakfast.  "A literary society&mdash;essays, with
+especial attention paid to the New Literature.  We made it our boast
+that we never went back further than Meredith, except, of course, when
+one had to, for origins and comparisons.  Randal, who's coming to stop
+for a few days, was president last year and read some awfully good
+papers."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry stared blankly.  He had thought that every one played cricket and
+football, especially when they were strong and healthy like Robin.  He
+had not quite understood about the society&mdash;and who was Meredith?  "I
+shall be glad to meet your friend," he said.  "Is he still at
+Cambridge?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, Randal!" said Robin.  "No, he came down the same time as I did.
+He only got a second in History, although he was worth a first any day
+of the week.  But he had such lots of other things to do&mdash;his papers
+for the 'Gracchi' took up any amount of time&mdash;and then history rather
+bored him.  He's very popular here, especially with all Fallacy Street
+people."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The Fallacy Street people!" repeated Harry, still more bewildered.
+"Who are they?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  I suppose you've forgotten," said Robin, mildly surprised.
+"They're all the people who're intellectual in Pendragon.  If you live
+in Fallacy Street you're one of the wits.  It's like belonging to the
+'Mermaid' used to be, you know, in Shakespeare's time.  They're really
+awfully clever&mdash;some of them&mdash;the Miss Ponsonbys and Mrs. le
+Terry&mdash;Aunt Clare thinks no end of Mrs. le Terry."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin's voice sounded a little awed.  He had a great respect for
+Fallacy Street.  "Oh, they won't have any room for me," said Harry,
+laughing.  "I'm an awfully stupid old duffer.  I haven't read anything
+at all, except a bit of Kipling&mdash;'Barrack-room Ballads'&mdash;seems a waste
+of time to read somehow."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That his father had very little interest in literature Robin had
+discovered some time before, but that he should boast of it&mdash;openly,
+laughingly&mdash;was really rather terrible.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry was silent for a few minutes; he had evidently made a blunder in
+his choice of a subject, but it was really difficult.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Where are we going this morning, Robin?" he said at last.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  I say!" Robin looked a little unhappy.  "I'm awfully sorry,
+father.  I'm really afraid I can't come out this morning.  There's a
+box of books that have positively got to get off to Randal's place
+to-night.  I daren't keep them any longer.  I'd do it this afternoon,
+only it's Aunt Clare's at-home day and she always likes me to help her.
+I'm really awfully sorry, but there are lots of other mornings, aren't
+there?  I simply must get those books off this morning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, of course," said Harry cheerfully; "there's plenty of time."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was dreadfully disappointed.  He had often thought of that first
+stroll with Robin.  They would discuss the changes since Harry's day;
+Robin would point out the new points of interest, and, perhaps,
+introduce him to some of his friends&mdash;it had been a favourite picture
+of his during some of those lonely days in New Zealand.  And now
+Robin's aunt and college friend were to come before his father&mdash;it was
+rather hard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But, then, on second thoughts, how unreasonable it was of him to expect
+to take up Robin's time like that.  He must fall into the ways of the
+house, quietly, unobtrusively, with none of that jolting of other
+people's habits and regular customs; it had been thoughtless, of him
+and ridiculous.  He must be more careful.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Breakfast ended, he found himself alone.  Robin left the room with the
+preoccupied air of a man of fifty; the difficulty of choosing between
+Jefferies' "Story of my Heart" and Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass," if
+there wasn't room in the box for both, was terrible!  Of course Randal
+was coming himself in a few days, and it would have been simpler to let
+him choose for himself; but he had particularly asked for them to be
+sent by the fourth, and to-day was the third.  Robin had quite
+forgotten his father.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry was alone.  From the garden came the sound of doves, and, through
+the window that overlooked the lawn, the sun shone into the room.
+Harry lit a cigarette and went out.  The garden was changed; there was
+a feeling of order and authority about it that it had never had before.
+Not a weed was to be seen on the paths: flowers stretched in perfect
+order and discipline; colours in harmony, shapes and patterns of a
+tutored symmetry&mdash;it was the perfection of a modern gardener's art.  He
+passed gardeners, grave, serious men with eyes intent on their work,
+and he remembered the strange old man who had watched over the garden
+when he had been a boy; an old man with a wild ragged beard and a
+skinny hand like the Ancient Mariner's.  The garden had not prospered
+under his care&mdash;it had been wild, undisciplined, tangled; but he had
+been a teller of wonderful tales, a seer of visions&mdash;it was to him that
+Harry had owed all the intimate knowledge of Cornish lore and mystery
+that he possessed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The gardeners that were there now were probably not Cornishmen at
+all&mdash;strangers, Londoners perhaps.  They could watch that wonderful,
+ever-changing view of sea and cliff and moor without any beating of the
+heart; to them the crooked, dusky windings of the Cove, the mighty grey
+rocks of Trelennan's Jump, the strange, solemn permanency of the four
+grey stones on the moor, were as nothing; their hearts were probably in
+Peckham.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He turned a little sadly from the ordered discipline of the garden; the
+shining green of the lawns, the blazing red and gold of its flowers
+almost annoyed him&mdash;it was not what he had expected.  Then, suddenly,
+he came upon a little tangled wood&mdash;a strange, deserted place, with
+tall grasses and wild ferns and a little brook bubbling noisily over
+shining white and grey pebbles.  He remembered it; how well he
+remembered it.  He had often been there in those early days.  He had
+tried to make a little mill in the brook.  He had searched there for
+some of those strange creatures about whom Tony Tregoth, the old
+gardener, had told him&mdash;fauns and nymphs and the wild god Pan.  He had
+never found anything; but its wild, disordered beauty had made a
+fitting setting for Tony's wild, disordered legends.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was still almost exactly as it had been twenty years before; no one
+had attempted improvement.  He stayed there for some time, thinking,
+regretting, dreaming&mdash;it was the only part of the garden that was real
+to him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He passed down the avenue and out through the white stone gates as one
+in a dream.  Something was stirring within him.  It was not that during
+those years in New Zealand he had forgotten.  He had longed again and
+again with a passionate, burning longing for the grey cliffs and the
+sea and the haunting loneliness of the moor; for the Cornwall that he
+had loved from the moment of his birth&mdash;no, he had never forgotten.
+But there was waking in him again that strange, half-inherited sense of
+the eternal presence of ancient days and old heathen ceremonies, and
+the manners of men who had lived in that place a thousand years before.
+He had known it when he was a boy; when he had chased rabbits over the
+moor, when he had seen the mist curling mysteriously from the sea and
+wrapping land and sky in a blinding curtain of grey, when he had stood
+on Trelennan's Jump and watched the white, savage tossing of the foam
+hundreds of feet below; he had sometimes fancied that he saw them,
+those wild bearded priests of cruelty, waiting smilingly on the silent
+twilit moor for victims&mdash;they had always been cruel; something terrible
+in the very vagueness of their outline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now the old thoughts came back to him, and he almost fancied that he
+could see the strange faces in the shadows of the garden and feel their
+hot breath upon his cheek.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His passage through the streets of Pendragon woke him from his dreams;
+its almost startling modernity and obtrusive up-to-dateness laughed at
+his fancies.  It was very much changed since he had been there
+before&mdash;like the garden, it was the very apotheosis of order and modern
+methods.  "The Pendragon Hotel" astonished him by its stone pillars,
+its glimpse of a wonderful, cool, softly carpeted hall, its official in
+gold buttons who stood solemnly magnificent on the steps, the
+admiration of several small boys who looked up into his face with
+wide-open eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry remembered the old "Pendragon Hotel," a dirty, unmethodical
+place, with beds that were never clean.  It had been something of a
+scandal, but its landlord had been an amusing fellow and a capital
+teller of stories.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The shops dazzled him by their brilliance.  The hairdresser's displayed
+a wonderful assortment of wigs in the window; coloured bottles of every
+size and hue glittered in the chemist's; diamonds flashed in the
+jeweller's&mdash;the street seemed glorious to his colonial eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The streets were not very crowded, and no one seemed to be in a hurry.
+Auckland had been rather a busy little town&mdash;no one had had very much
+time to spare&mdash;but here, under the mellow September sun, people
+lingered and talked, and the time and place seemed to stand still with
+the pleasant air of something restfully comfortable, and, above all,
+containing nothing that wasn't in the very best taste.  It was this air
+of polite gentility that struck Harry so strongly.  It had never been
+like that in the old days; a ragged unkempt place of uncertain manners
+and a very evident poverty.  He rather resented its new polish, and he
+regretted once more that he had not sought a London tailor before
+coming down to Cornwall.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He suddenly recognised a face&mdash;a middle-aged, stout gentleman, with a
+white waistcoat and the air of one who had managed to lead a virtuous
+life and, nevertheless, accumulate money; he was evidently satisfied
+with both achievements.  It was Barbour, Bunny Barbour.  He had been
+rather a good chap at school, with some taste for adventure.  He had
+had a wider horizon than most of them; Harry remembered how Bunny had
+envied him in New Zealand.  He looked prosperous and sedate now, and
+the world must have treated him well.  Harry spoke to him and was
+received with effusion.  "Trojan, old man!  Well, I never!  I'm damned
+if I'd have recognised you.  How you've changed!  I heard you were
+coming back; your boy told me&mdash;fine chap that, Trojan, you've every
+reason to be proud.  Well, to be sure!  Come in and have a whisky and
+see the new club-rooms!  Just been done up, and fairly knocks spots out
+of the old place."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was extremely cordial, but Harry felt that he was under criticism.
+Barbour's eyes looked him up and down; there was almost a challenge in
+his glance, as though he said, "We are quite ready to receive you if
+you are one of us.  But you must move with the times.  It's no good for
+you to be the same as in the old days.  We've all changed, and so must
+you!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The club was magnificent.  Harry stared in amazement at its luxury and
+comfort.  Its wonderful armchairs and soft carpets, its decorations and
+splendid space astonished him.  The old place had seemed rather fine to
+him as a boy, but he saw now how bad it had really been.  He sank into
+one of the armchairs with that strange sense of angry resentment that
+he had felt before in the street gaining hotly upon him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's good, isn't it?" said Barbour, smiling with an almost personal
+satisfaction, as though he had been largely responsible for the present
+improvements.  "The membership's going up like anything, and we're
+thinking of raising subscriptions.  Very decent set of fellows on it,
+too.  Oh! we're getting along splendidly here.  You must have noticed
+the change in the place!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I should think I have," said Harry&mdash;the tone of his voice was a little
+regretful; "but it's not only here&mdash;it's the whole town.  It's
+smartened up beyond all knowing.  But I must confess that, dirty and
+dingy as they were, I regret the old club-rooms.  There was something
+extraordinarily homely and comfortable about them.  Do you remember
+that old armchair with the hole in it?  Gone long ago, of course, but I
+shall never sit in anything as nice again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, sentiment," said Barbour, smiling; "you won't find much of it in
+Pendragon nowadays.  It doesn't do.  Sentimentalists are always Tories,
+you'll find; always wanting to keep the old things, and all against
+progress.  We're all for progress now.  We've got some capital men on
+the Town Council&mdash;Harding, Belfast, Rogers, Snaith&mdash;you won't remember
+them.  There's some talk of pulling down the Cove and building new
+lodging-houses there.  We're crowded out in the summer, and there are
+more people every year."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Pull down the Cove?" said Harry, aghast; "but you can't.  It's been
+there for hundreds of years; it's one of the most picturesque places in
+Cornwall."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's the only thing," said Barbour regretfully.  "It acts rather
+well as a draw for painters and that sort of person, and it makes some
+pretty picture postcards that are certain to sell.  Oh, I suppose
+they'll keep it for a bit, but it will have to go ultimately.
+Pendragon's changing."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was no doubt that it was, and Harry left the club some quarter of
+an hour later with dismay in his heart.  He had dreamed so long of the
+old times, the old beauties, the old quiet spirit of unprogressive
+content, that this new eagerness to be up-to-date and modern, this
+obvious determination to make Pendragon a watering-place of the most
+detestable kind, horrified him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he passed down the crooked, uneven stone steps that led to the Cove,
+he felt indignant, almost unhappy.  It was as if a friend had been
+insulted in his presence and he had been unable to defend him.  They
+said that the Cove must go, must make way for modern jerry-built
+lodging-houses, in order that middle-class families from London and
+Manchester might be sufficiently accommodated.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Cove had meant a great deal to him when a boy&mdash;mystery, romance,
+pirates and smugglers, strange Cornish legends of saints and sinners,
+knights and men-at-arms.  The little inn, "The Bended Thumb," with its
+irregular red-brick floor and its smoke-stained oaken rafters, had been
+the theatre of many a stirring drama&mdash;now it was to be pulled down.  It
+was a wonderfully beautiful morning, and the little, twisting street of
+the Cove seemed to dance with its white shining cobbles in the light of
+the sun.  It was mysterious as ever, but colours lingered in every
+corner.  Purple mists seemed to hang about the dark alleys and twisting
+ways; golden shafts of light flashed through the open cottage doorways
+into rooms where motes of dust danced, like sprites, in the sun; smoke
+rose in little wreaths of pearl-grey blue into the cloudless sky; there
+was perfect stillness in the air, and from an overflowing pail that
+stood outside "The Bended Thumb," the clear drip, drip of the water
+could be heard falling slowly into the white cobbles, and close at hand
+was the gentle lap of the sea, as it ran up the little shingly beach
+and then dragged slowly back again with a soft, reluctant hiss.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was the Cove in its gentlest mood.  No one was about; the women were
+preparing the dinner and the men were away at work.  No strange faces
+peered from inhospitable doorways; there was nothing to-day that could
+give the stranger a sense of outlawry, of almost savage avoidance of
+ordinary customs and manners.  Harry's heart beat wildly as he walked
+down the street; there was no change here; it was as he had left it.
+He was at home here as he could never be in that new, strident
+Pendragon with its utter disregard of tradition and beauty.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He saw that it was late and hurried back.  He had discovered a great
+deal during the morning.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At lunch he spoke of the changes that he had seen.  Clare smiled.
+"Why, of course," she said.  "Twenty years is a long time, and
+Pendragon has made great strides.  For my part, I am very glad.  It
+brings money to the shopkeepers, and the place will be quite
+fashionable in a few years' time.  We're all on the side of progress up
+here," she added, laughing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But the Cove?" said Harry.  "Barbour tells me that they are thinking
+of pulling it down to make way for lodging-houses or something."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, why not?" said Clare.  "It is really very much in the way where
+it is, and is, I am told, extremely insanitary.  We must be practical
+nowadays or we are nothing; you have to pay heavily for being romantic."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry felt again that sensation of personal affront as though some
+close friend, bound to him by many ties, had been attacked violently in
+his presence.  It was unreasonable, he knew, but it was very strong.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And you, Robin," he said, "what do you think of it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I agree with Aunt Clare," answered Robin lightly, as though it were a
+matter that interested him very little.  "If the place is in the way,
+it ought to go.  He's a sensible man, Barbour."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The fact is, Harry," said Garrett, "you haven't changed quite as fast
+as the place has.  You'll see the point of view in a few weeks' time."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He felt unreasonably, ridiculously angry.  They were all treating him
+as a child, as some one who would grow up one day perhaps, but was, at
+present at any rate, immature in thought and word; even with Robin
+there was a half-implied superiority.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But the Cove!" he cried vehemently.  "Is it nothing to any of you?
+After all that it has been to us all our lives, to our people, to the
+whole place, are you going to root it out and destroy it simply because
+the town isn't quite big enough to put up all the trippers that burden
+it in the summer?  Don't you see what you will lose if you do?  I
+suppose you think that I am sentimental, romantic, but upon my word I
+can't see that you have improved Pendragon very much in all these
+twenty years.  It was charming once&mdash;a place with individuality,
+independence; now it is like anywhere else&mdash;a miniature Brighton."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He knew that he was wasting his words.  There was a pause, and he felt
+that they were all three laughing at him&mdash;yes, Robin as well.  He had
+only made a fool of himself; they could not understand how much he had
+expected during those weary years of waiting&mdash;how much he had expected
+and how much he had missed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare looked round the room and was relieved to find that only Beldam
+was present.  If one of the family was bent on being absurd, it was as
+well that there should only be one of the servants to hear him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You know that you are to be on your trial this afternoon, Harry?" she
+said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My trial?" he repeated, bewildered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;it's my at-home day, you know&mdash;first Thursdays&mdash;and, of course,
+they'll all come to see you.  We shall have the whole town&mdash;&mdash;"  She
+looked at him a little anxiously; so much depended on how he behaved,
+and she wasn't completely reassured by his present manner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+If he astonished them all this afternoon by saying things about the
+Cove like that, it would be too terrible!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How horrible!" he said, laughing.  "I'm very much afraid that I shan't
+do you justice, Clare.  I'm no good at small conversation."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His treating it so lightly made it worse, and she wondered how she
+could force him to realise the seriousness of it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"All the nicest people in Pendragon," she said; "and they are rather
+ridiculously critical, and of course they talk."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He looked at her and laughed.  "I wish they were Maories," he said, "I
+shouldn't be nearly so frightened!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She leant over the table to emphasise her words.  "But it really does
+make a difference, Harry.  First impressions count a lot.  You'll be
+nice to them, won't you?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The laugh had left his eyes.  It was serious, as he knew.  He had had
+no idea that he would have, so to speak, "funked" it so.  It was
+partly, of course, because of Robin.  He did not want to make a fool of
+himself before the boy.  He was already beginning to realise what were
+the things that counted with Robin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The real pathos of the situation lay in his terrible anxiety to do the
+right thing.  If he had taken it quietly, had trusted to his natural
+discretion and had left circumstances to develop of themselves, he
+would have, at any rate, been less self-conscious.  But he could not
+let it alone.  He had met Auckland society often enough and had,
+indeed, during his later years, been something of a society man, but
+there everything was straight-forward and simple.  There was no
+tradition, no convention, no standard.  Because other people did a
+thing was no reason why you should do it&mdash;originality was welcomed
+rather than otherwise.  But here there were so many things that you
+must do, and so very, very many that you mustn't; and if you were a
+Trojan, matters were still more complicated.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was after half-past four when he entered the drawing-room, and Clare
+was pouring out tea.  Five or six ladies were already there, and a
+clergyman of ample proportions and quite beautifully brushed hair.  He
+was introduced&mdash;"Mrs. le Terry&mdash;Miss Ponsonby&mdash;Miss Lucy Ponsonby&mdash;Miss
+Werrel&mdash;Miss Thisbe Werrel&mdash;Mr. Carrell&mdash;our rector, Harry."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He shook hands and was terribly embarrassed.  He was conscious at once
+of that same sense of challenge that he had felt with Barbour in the
+morning.  They were not obviously staring, but he knew that they were
+rapidly summing him up.  He coloured foolishly, and stood for a moment
+awkwardly in the middle of the room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Tea, Harry?" said Clare.  "Scones down by the fire.  Everybody else is
+all right&mdash;so look after yourself."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He found himself by Mrs. le Terry, a small, rather pretty woman with
+wide-open blue eyes, and a mass of dark brown hair hidden beneath a
+large black hat that drooped over one ear.  She talked rapidly and with
+few pauses.  She was, he discovered, one of those persons whose
+conversation was a series of exclamation marks.  She was perpetually
+astonished, delighted, and disappointed with an amount of emotion that
+left her no breath and gave her hearers a small opinion of her
+sincerity.  "It's too terribly funny," she said, opening her eyes very
+wide indeed, "that you should have been in that amazing place, New
+Zealand&mdash;all sheep and Maories, isn't it?&mdash;and if there's one thing
+that I should be likely to detest more than mutton I'm sure it would be
+Maories.  Too dreadful and terrible!  But you look splendidly well, Mr.
+Trojan.  I never, really never, saw any one with such a magnificent
+colour!  I suppose that it's that gorgeous sun, and it never rains,
+does it?  Too delightful!  If there's one thing that I <I>do</I> adore, it's
+the sun!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I don't know about that," said Harry, laughing; "we had rain
+pretty often in Auckland, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh," she said, breaking in upon him, "that's too curious, because, do
+you know, I thought you never had rain at all, and I do detest rain so.
+It's too distressing when one has a new frock or must go to some stupid
+place to see some one.  But I'm too awfully glad that you've come here,
+Mr. Trojan.  We do want waking up a little, you know, and I'm sure
+you're the very person to do it.  It would be too funny if you were to
+wake us all up, you know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry was pleased.  There were no difficulties here, at any rate.
+Hadn't Robin mentioned Mrs. le Terry as one of the leaders of Fallacy
+Street?  He suddenly lost his shyness and wanted to become
+confidential.  He would tell her how glad he was to be back in England
+again; how anxious he was to enter into all the fun and to take his
+part in all the work.  He wondered what she felt about the Cove, and he
+hoped that she would be an enemy to its proposed destruction.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she yielded him no opportunity of speaking, and he speedily
+discovered her opinion on the Cove.  "And such changes since you went
+away!  Quite another place, I'm glad to say.  Pendragon is the sweetest
+little town, and even the dear, dirty trippers in the summer are the
+most delightful and amusing people you ever saw.  And now that they
+talk of pulling down that horrid, dirty old Cove, it will be too
+splendid, with lodging-houses and a bandstand; and they do talk of an
+Esplanade&mdash;that would be too delightful!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+While she was speaking, he watched the room curiously.  Robin had come
+in and was standing by the fireplace talking to the Miss Werrels, two
+girls of the athletic type, with short skirts and their hair brushed
+tightly back over their foreheads.  He was leaning with one arm on the
+mantelpiece, and was looking down on the ladies with an air of languid
+interest: his eyes were restless, and every now and again glanced
+towards his father.  The two Miss Ponsonbys were massive ladies of any
+age over fifty.  Clad in voluminous black silk, with several little
+reticules and iron chains, their black hair bound in tight coils at the
+back of their heads, each holding stiffly her teacup with a tenacity
+that was worthy of a better cause, they were awe-inspiring and
+militant.  In spite of their motionless gravity, there was something
+aggressive in their frowning brows and cold, expressionless eyes.
+Harry thought that he had never seen two more terrifying persons.
+Clare was talking to the prosperous clergyman; he smiled continually,
+and now and again laughed in reply to some remark, but it was always
+something restrained and carefully guarded.  He was obviously a man who
+laid great store by exterior circumstances.  That the sepulchre should
+be filled with dead men's bones might cause him pain, but that it
+should be unwhitened would be, to him, a thing far more terrible.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare turned round and addressed the room generally.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mr. Carrell has just been telling me of the shocking state of the
+Cove," she said.  "Insanitary isn't the word, apparently.  Things have
+gone too far, and the only wise measure seems to be to root the place
+up completely.  It is sad, of course&mdash;it was a pretty old place, but it
+has had its day."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've just been telling your brother about it, Miss Trojan," said Mrs.
+le Terry.  "It's quite too terrible, and I'm sure it's very bad for all
+of us to have anything quite so horrible so close to our houses.
+There's no knowing what dreadful things we may not all of us be
+catching at this very moment&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was interrupted by two new arrivals&mdash;Mrs. and Miss Bethel.  They
+were a curious contrast.  The mother was the strangest old lady that
+Harry had ever seen.  She was tiny in stature, with snow-white hair and
+cheeks that were obviously rouged; she wore a dress of curious shot
+silk decorated with much lace, and her fingers were thick with jewels;
+a large hat with great purple feathers waved above her head.  It was a
+fantastic and gaudy impression that she made, and there was something
+rather pitiful in the contrast between her own obvious satisfaction
+with her personal appearance and the bizarre, almost vulgar, effect of
+such strangely contrasted colours.  She came mincing into the room with
+her head a little on one side, but in spite of, or perhaps because of,
+her rather anxious smiles, it was obvious that she was not altogether
+at her ease.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The girl who followed her was very different.  Tall and very dark, she
+was clothed quite simply in grey; her hair was wonderful, although it
+was at present hidden to some extent by her hat, but its coal-black
+darkness had something intent, almost luminous, about it, so that,
+paradoxically, its very blackness held hidden lights and colours.  But
+it was her manner that Harry especially noticed.  She followed her
+mother with a strange upright carriage of the head and flash of the
+eyes that were almost defiant.  She was evidently expecting no very
+civil reception, and she seemed to face the room with hostility and no
+very ready eagerness to please.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The effect on the room was marked.  Mrs. le Terry stopped speaking for
+a moment and rustled her skirts with a movement of displeasure, the
+Miss Ponsonbys clutched their teacups even tighter than before and
+their brows became more clouded, the Miss Werrels smiled confidentially
+at each other as though they shared some secret, and even Robin made a
+slight instinctive movement of displeasure.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry felt at once an impulse of sympathy towards the girl.  It was
+almost as if this sudden hostility had made them friends: he liked that
+independence of her carriage, the pride in her eyes.  Mrs. le Terry's
+voice broke upon his ears.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Which must be, Mr. Trojan, extraordinarily provoking.  To go there, I
+mean, and find absolutely no one in&mdash;all that way, too, and a horribly
+wet night, and no train until nine o'clock."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In his endeavours to pick up the thread of the conversation he lost
+sight of their meeting with Clare.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She, indeed, had greeted them with all the Trojan coldness; nothing
+could have been more sternly formal than her "Ah!  Mrs. Bethel, I'm so
+glad that you were able to come.  So good of you to trouble to call.
+Won't you have some tea?  Do find a seat somewhere, Miss Bethel.  I
+hope you won't mind our all having finished."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry was introduced and took them their tea.  It was obvious that, for
+some reason unknown to him, their presence there was undesired by all
+the company present, including Clare herself.  He also knew
+instinctively that their coming there had been some act of daring
+bravery, undertaken perhaps with the hope that, after all, it might not
+be as they had feared.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The old lady's hand trembled as she took her teacup; the colour had
+fled from her face, and she sat there white and shaking.  As Harry bent
+over her with the scones, he saw to his horror that a tear was
+trembling on her eyelid; her throat was moving convulsively.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At the same instant he knew that the girl's eyes were fixed upon his;
+he saw them imploring, beseeching him to help them.  It was a difficult
+situation, but he smiled back at the girl and turned to the old lady.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do try these scones, Mrs. Bethel," he said; "they are still hot and I
+can recommend them strongly.  I'm so glad to meet you; my sister told
+me only this morning that she hoped you would come this afternoon, as
+she wanted us to become acquainted."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was a lie, but he spoke it without hesitation, knowing that it would
+reach Clare's ears.  The little lady smiled nervously and looked up at
+him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, Mr. Trojan," she said, "it's very good of you, I'm sure.  We are
+only too delighted.  It's not much gaiety that we can offer you here,
+but such as it is&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was actually making eyes at him, the preposterous old person.  It
+was really a little pitiful, with her gorgeous colours, and her
+trembling assumption of a coquettish youth that had left her long ago.
+Her attempt to storm a difficult position by the worst of all possible
+tactics made him extremely sorry for the daughter, who was forced to
+look on in silence.  His thoughts, indeed, were with the girl&mdash;her
+splendid hair, her eyes, something wild, almost rebellious, that found
+a kindred note in himself; curiously, almost absurdly, they were to a
+certain degree allies although they had not spoken.  He talked to her a
+little and she mentioned the Cove.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is a test of your Cornish ancestry," she said&mdash;"if you care for it,
+I mean.  So many people here look on it as a kind of
+rubbish-heap&mdash;picturesque but untidy&mdash;and it is the most beautiful
+place in the world."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am glad that you feel like that," he said quietly; "it meant a lot
+to me as a boy.  I have been sorry to find how unpopular it is now; but
+I see that it still has its supporters."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, you must talk to father," she said.  "He is always there.  We are
+a little old-fashioned, I'm afraid."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was in her voice, in her smile, something that stirred him
+strangely.  He felt as though he had met her before&mdash;a long while ago.
+He recognised little characteristics, the way that she pushed back her
+hair when she was excited, the beautiful curve of her neck when she
+raised her eyes to his, the rise and fall of her bosom&mdash;it was all
+strangely, individually familiar, as though he had often watched her do
+the same things in the same way before, in some other place....
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had forgotten the others&mdash;Clare, Robin, the Miss Ponsonbys, Mrs. le
+Terry; and when they had all gone, he did not realise that he had in
+any way neglected them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After Miss Bethel had left the room, followed by the preposterous old
+mother, he stood at the window watching the lights of the town shining
+mistily through the black network of trees in the drive.  He must meet
+her again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare spoke to him and he turned round.  "I'm afraid you have made the
+Miss Ponsonbys enemies for life," she said; "you never spoke to them
+once.  I warned you that they were the most important people in the
+place."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! the Miss Ponsonbys!" said Harry carelessly, and Robin stood amazed.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap03"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER III
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Robin's rooms, charming as they were, with their wide windows opening
+on to tossing sea and the sharp bend of the grey cliffs stretching to
+distant horizons, suffered from overcrowding.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His sitting-room, with its dark red wallpaper and several good prints
+framed in dark oak&mdash;Burne-Jones' "Study for Cupid's Masque," Hunt's
+"Hireling Shepherd," and Whistler's "Battersea Bridge" were the
+best&mdash;might have been delightful had he learned to select; but at the
+present stage in his development he hated rejecting anything as long as
+it reached a certain standard.  His appreciations were wide and
+generous, and his knowledge was just now too superficial to permit of
+discerning criticism.  The room, again, suffered from a rather
+effeminate prettiness.  There were too many essentially trivial
+knick-knacks&mdash;some fans, silver ornaments, a charming little ebony
+clock, and a generous assortment of gay, elegantly worked cushions.
+The books, too, were all in handsome editions&mdash;Meredith in green
+leather with a gold-worked monogram, Pater in red half-morocco,
+Swinburne in light-blue with red and gold tooling&mdash;rich and to some
+extent unobtrusive, but reiterating unmistakably the first impression
+that the room had given, the mark of something superficial.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin was there now, dressing for dinner.  He often dressed in his
+sitting-room, because his books were there.  He liked to open a book
+for a moment before fitting his studs into his shirt, and how charming
+to read a verse of Swinburne before brushing his hair&mdash;not so much
+because of the Swinburne, but rather because one went down to dinner
+with a pleasant feeling of culture and education.  To-night he was in a
+hurry.  People had stayed so late for tea (it was still the day after
+his father's arrival), and he had to be at the other end of the town by
+half-past seven.  What a nuisance going out to dinner was, and how he
+wished he wasn't going to-night.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The fact that the dinner promised, in all probability, to afford
+something of a situation did not, as was often the case, give him very
+much satisfaction.  Indeed it was the reverse.  The situation was going
+to be extremely unpleasant, and there was every likelihood that Robin
+would look a fool.  Robin's education had been a continuous insistence
+on the importance of superficiality.  It had been enforced while he was
+still in the cradle, when a desire to kick and fight had been always
+checked by the quiet reiteration that it was not a thing that a Trojan
+did.  Temper was not a fault of itself, but an exhibition of it was;
+simply because self-control was a Trojan virtue.  At his private school
+he was taught the great code of brushing one's hair and leaving the
+bottom button of one's waistcoat undone.  Robbery, murder, rape&mdash;well,
+they had all played their part in the Trojan history; but the art of
+shaking hands and the correct method of snubbing a poor relation, if
+properly acquired, covered the crimes of the Decalogue.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was not that Robin, either then or afterwards, was a snob.  He
+thought no more of a duke or a viscount than of a plain commoner, but
+he learnt at once the lesson of "Us&mdash;and the Others."  If you were one
+of the others&mdash;if there was a hesitation about your aspirates, if you
+wore a tail-coat and brown boots&mdash;then you were non-existent, you
+simply did not count.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When he left Eton for Cambridge, this Code of the Quite Correct Thing
+advanced beyond the art of Perfect Manners; it extended to literature
+and politics, and, in fact, everything of any importance.  He soon
+discovered what were the things for "Us" to read, whom were the
+painters for "Us" to admire, and what were the politics for "Us" to
+applaud.  He read Pater and Swinburne and Meredith, Bernard Shaw and
+Galsworthy and Joseph Conrad, and had quite definite ideas about all of
+them.  He admired Rickett's stage effects, and thought Sholto Douglas's
+portraits awfully clever, and, of course, Max's Caricatures were
+masterly.  I'm not saying that he did not really admire these
+things&mdash;in many things his appreciation was genuine enough&mdash;but if it
+should happen that he cared for "The Christian" or "God's Good Man," he
+speedily smothered his admiration and wondered how he could be such a
+fool.  To do him justice, he never had any doubt that those whose
+judgment he followed were absolutely right; but he followed them
+blindly, often praising books or pictures that he had never read or
+seen because it was the thing to do.  He read quite clever papers to
+"The Gracchi" at Cambridge, but the most successful of all, "The
+Philosophy of Nine-pins according to Bernard Shaw," was written before
+he had either seen or read any of that gentleman's plays.  He was, in
+fact, in great danger of developing into a kind of walking <I>Rapid
+Review</I> of other people's judgments and opinions.  He examined nothing
+for himself; his standard of the things to be attained in this world
+was fixed and unalterable; to have an unalterable standard at
+twenty-one is to condemn oneself to folly for life.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And now, as he was dressing for dinner, two things occupied his mind:
+firstly, his father; in the second place, the situation that he was to
+face in half-an-hour's time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With regard to his father, Robin was terribly afraid that he was one of
+the Others.  He had had his suspicions from the first&mdash;that violent
+entry, the loud voice and the hearty laugh, the bad-fitting clothes,
+and the perpetual chatter at dinner; it had all been noisy, unusual,
+even a little vulgar.  But his behaviour at tea that afternoon had
+grieved Robin very much.  How could he be so rude to the light and
+leading of Fallacy Street?  It could only have been through ignorance;
+it could only have been because he really did not know how truly great
+the Miss Ponsonbys were.  But then, to spend all his time with the
+Bethels, strange, odd people, with the queerest manners and an
+uncertain history, whom Fallacy Street had decided to cut!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+No, Robin was very much afraid that his father must be ranked with the
+Others.  He had not expected very much after all; New Zealand must be a
+strange place on all accounts; but his father seemed to show no desire
+to improve, he seemed quite happy and contented, and scarcely realised,
+apparently, the seriousness of his mistakes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But, after all, the question of his father was a very minor affair as
+compared with the real problem that he must answer that evening.  Robin
+had met Dahlia Feverel in the summer of the preceding year at
+Cambridge.  He had thought her extremely beautiful and very
+fascinating.  Most of his college friends had ladies whom they adored;
+it was considered quite a thing to do&mdash;and so Robin adored Dahlia.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+No one knew anything about the Feverels.  The mother was kept in the
+background and the father was dead&mdash;there was really only Dahlia; and
+when Robin was with her he never thought of questioning her as to
+antecedents of earlier history.  For two months he loved her
+passionately, chiefly because he saw her very seldom.  When he went
+down at the end of the summer term he felt that she was the only thing
+in the world worth living for.  He became Byronic, scowled at Aunt
+Clare, and treated Garrett's cynicism with contempt.  He wrote letters
+to her every day full of the deepest sentiments and a great deal of
+amazingly bad poetry.  Clare wondered what was the matter, but asked no
+questions, and was indeed far too firmly convinced of the efficacy of
+the Trojan system to have any fears of mental or moral danger.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then Miss Feverel made a mistake; she came with her mother to stay at
+Pendragon.  For the first week Robin was blissfully happy&mdash;then he
+began to wonder.  The best people in Pendragon would have nothing to do
+with the Feverels.  Aunt Clare, unaware that they were friends of
+Robin's, pronounced them "commonly vulgar."  The mother was more in
+evidence than she had been at Cambridge, and Robin passed from dislike
+to horror and from horror to hatred.  Dahlia, too, seemed to have
+changed.  Robin had loved her too passionately hitherto to think of the
+great Division.  But soon he began to wonder.  There were certain
+things&mdash;little unimportant trifles, of course&mdash;that made him rather
+uneasy; he began to have a horrible suspicion that she was one of the
+Others; and then, once the suspicion was admitted, proof after proof
+came forward to turn it into certainty.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+How horrible, and what an escape!  His visits to the little
+lodging-house overlooking the sea where Dahlia played the piano so
+enchantingly, and Mrs. Feverel, a solemn, rather menacing figure,
+played silently and mournfully continuous Patience, were less and less
+frequent.  He was determined to break the matter off; it haunted his
+dreams, it troubled him all day; he was forced to keep his
+acquaintanceship with them secret, and was in perpetual terror lest
+Aunt Clare should discover it.  He had that most depressing of
+unwished-for possessions, a skeleton; its cupboard-door swung
+creakingly in the wind, and its bones rattled in his ears.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+No, the thing must come to an end at once, and completely.  They had
+invited him to dinner and he had accepted, meaning to use the occasion
+for the contemplated separation.  He had thought often enough of what
+he would say&mdash;words that had served others many times before in similar
+situations.  He would refer to their youth, the affair should be a
+midsummer episode, pleasant to look back upon when they were both older
+and married to more worthy partners; he would be a brother to her and
+she should be a sister to him&mdash;but, thank God for his escape!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He believed that the Trojan traditions would carry him through.  He was
+not quite sure what she would do&mdash;cry probably, and remonstrate; but it
+would soon be over and he would be at peace once more.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He dressed slowly and with his usual care.  It would be easier to speak
+with authority if there was no doubt about his appearance.  He decided
+to walk, and he passed through the garden into the town, his head a
+buzzing repetition of the words that he meant to say.  It was a
+beautiful evening; a soft mist hid the moon's sharper outline, but she
+shone, a vague circlet of light through a little fleet of fleecy white
+cloud.  Although it was early in September, some of the trees were
+beginning to change their dark green into faint gold, and the sharp
+outline of their leaves stood out against the grey pearl light of the
+sky.  As he passed into the principal street of Pendragon, Robin drew
+his coat closer about him, like some ancient conspirator.  He had no
+wish to be stopped by an inquisitive friend; his destination demanded
+secrecy.  Soon the lights and asphalt of the High Street gave place to
+dark, twisting paths and cobbled stones.  These obscure and narrow ways
+were rather pathetic survivals of the old Pendragon.  At night they had
+an almost sinister appearance; the lamps were at very long intervals
+and the old houses leaned over the road with a certain crazy
+picturesqueness that was, at the same time, exceedingly dangerous.
+There were few lights in the windows and very few pedestrians on the
+cobbles; the muffled roar of the sea sounded close at hand.  And,
+indeed, it sprang upon you quite magnificently at a turn of the road.
+To-night it scarcely moved; a ripple as the waves licked the sand, a
+gentle rustle as of trees in the wind when the pebbles were dragged
+back with the ebb&mdash;that was all.  It seemed strangely mysterious under
+the misty, uncertain light of the moon.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The houses facing the sea loomed up darkly against the horizon&mdash;a black
+contrast with the grey of sea and sky.  It was No. 4 where the Feverels
+lived.  There was a light in the upper window and some one was playing
+the piano.  Robin hesitated for some minutes before ringing the bell.
+When it had rung he heard the piano stop.  For a few seconds there was
+no sound; then there were steps in the passage and the door was opened
+by the very dowdy little maid-of-all-work whose hands were always dirty
+and whose eyes were always red, as though with perpetual weeping.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With what different eyes he saw the house now!  On his first visit, the
+sun had dazzled his eyes; there had been flowers in the drawing-room
+and she had come to meet him in some charming dress; he had stood
+enraptured at the foot of the stairs, deeming it Paradise.  Now the
+lamp in the hall flared with the wind from the door, and he was acutely
+conscious of a large rent in the dirty, faded carpet.  The house was
+perfectly still&mdash;it might have been a place of ghosts, with the moon
+shining mistily through the window on the stairs and the strange,
+insistent murmur of the sea beating mysteriously through the closed
+doors!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was no one in the drawing-room, and its appalling bad taste
+struck him as it had never done before.  How could he have been blind
+to it?  The glaring yellow carpet, the bright purple lamp-shades, the
+gilt looking-glass over the fireplace, and, above all, dusty, drooping
+paper flowers in bright china vases ranged in a row by the window.  Of
+course, it might be merely the lodgings.  Lodgings always were like
+that&mdash;but to live with them for months!  To attempt no change, to leave
+the flowers, and the terrible oil-painting "Lost in the Snow"&mdash;an
+obvious British Public appeal to a pathos that simply shrieked at you,
+with its hideous colours and very material snow-storm.  No, Robin could
+only repeat once more, What an escape!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But had he, after all, escaped?  He was not quite sure, as he stood by
+the window waiting.  It might be difficult, and he was unmistakably
+nervous.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dahlia closed the door, and stood there for a moment before coming
+forward.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin&mdash;at last!" and she held out both hands to him.  They were the
+same words that his aunt had used to his father last night, he
+remembered foolishly, and at once they seemed strained, false,
+ridiculous!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He took her hand and said something about being in time; then, as she
+seemed to expect it, he bent down and kissed her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was pretty in a rather obvious way.  If there had been less
+artificiality there would have been more charm; of middle height, she
+was slim and dark, and her hair, parted in the middle, fell in waves
+over her temples.  She affected a rather simple, aesthetic manner that
+suited her dark eyes and rather pale complexion.  You said that she was
+intense until you knew her.  To-night she wore a rather pretty dress of
+some dark-brown stuff, cut low at the neck, and with her long white
+arms bare.  She had obviously taken a good deal of trouble this
+evening, and had undoubtedly succeeded.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And so Sir Robert has deigned to come and see his humble dependants at
+last!" she said, laughing.  "A whole fortnight, Robin, and you've not
+been near us."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm dreadfully sorry," he said, "but I've really been too terribly
+busy.  The Governor coming home and one thing and another&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He felt gauche and awkward, the consciousness of what he must say after
+dinner weighed on him heavily.  He could hardly believe that there had
+ever been a time when he had talked eagerly, passionately&mdash;he cursed
+himself for a fool.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, we've been very lonely and you're a naughty boy," said Dahlia.
+"But now you are here I won't scold you if you promise to tell me
+everything you've done since last time&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! done?" said Robin vaguely; "I really don't know&mdash;the usual sort of
+thing, I suppose&mdash;not much to do in Pendragon at any time."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had been looking at him curiously while he was speaking.  Now she
+suddenly changed her voice.  "I've been so lonely without you, dear,"
+she said, speaking almost in a whisper; "I fancied&mdash;of course it was
+silly of me&mdash;that perhaps there was some one else&mdash;that you were
+getting a little tired of me.  I was&mdash;very unhappy.  I nearly wrote,
+but I was afraid that&mdash;some one might see it.  Letters are always
+dangerous.  But it's very lonely here all day&mdash;with only mother.  If
+you could come a little oftener, dear&mdash;it means everything to me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Her voice was a little husky as though tears were not far away, and she
+spoke in little short sentences&mdash;she seemed to find it hard to say the
+words.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin suddenly felt a brute.  How could he ever tell her of what was in
+his mind?  If it was really so much to her he could never leave
+her&mdash;not at once like that; he must do it gradually.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was sitting by him on the sofa and looked rather delightful.  She
+had the pathetic expression that always attracted him, and he felt very
+sorry indeed.  How blank her days would be without him!  Part of the
+romance had always been his rôle of King Cophetua, and tears sprang to
+his eyes as he thought of the poor beggar-maid, alone, forlornly
+weeping, when he had finally withdrawn his presence.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think it is partly the sea," she said, putting her hand gently on
+his sleeve.  "When one is sitting quite alone here in the evening with
+nothing to do and no one to talk to, one hears it so plainly&mdash;it is
+almost frightening.  You know, Robin, old boy, I don't care for
+Pendragon very much.  I only came here because of you&mdash;and now&mdash;if you
+never come to see us&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She stopped with a little catch in her voice.  Her hand fastened on his
+sleeve; their heads were very close together and her hair almost
+brushed his cheek.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He really was an awful brute, but at the same time it was rather
+nice&mdash;that she should care so much.  It would be terrible for her when
+he told her what was in his mind.  She might even get very ill&mdash;he had
+read of broken hearts often enough; and she was extraordinarily nice
+just now&mdash;he didn't want to hurt her.  But still a fellow must think of
+his career, his future, and that sort of thing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Feverel entered&mdash;ponderous, solemn, dressed in a black silk that
+trails behind her in funereal folds.  Her hands were clammy to the
+touch and her voice was a deep bass.  She said very little, but sat
+down silently by the window, forming, as she always did, a dark and
+extremely solid background.  Robin hated and feared her.  There was
+something sinister in her silence&mdash;something ominous in her perpetual
+black.  He had never heard her laugh.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dahlia was laughing now.  "I'm a selfish brute, Bobby," she said, "to
+bother you with my silly little complaints when we want to be cheerful.
+We'll have a good time this evening, won't we?  We'll sing some of
+those Rubinstein's duets after dinner, and I've got a new song that
+I've been learning especially for you.  And then there's your father; I
+do want to hear all about him so much&mdash;he must be so interesting,
+coming from New Zealand.  Mother and I saw a gentleman in the town this
+morning that we thought must be him.  Tall and brown, with a light
+brown moustache and a dark blue suit.  It must be splendid to have a
+father again after twenty years without him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Her voice dropped a little, as though to refer gently to her own
+fatherless condition.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Feverel, a dark shadow in the window, sighed heavily.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! the Governor!" said Robin, a little irritably.  "No!  It's rather
+difficult&mdash;he doesn't seem to know what to do and say.  I suppose it's
+being in New Zealand so long!  It makes it rather difficult for me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He spoke as one suffering under an unjust accusation.  It was bad luck,
+and he wondered vaguely why Dahlia had been so interested; why should
+she care, unless, and the idea struck him with horror, she already
+regarded him as a prospective father-in-law?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dinner was announced by the grimy little maid.  Robin took the dark
+figure of Mrs. Feverel on his arm and made some hesitating remark about
+the weather&mdash;but he had the curious and unpleasant sensation of her
+seeing through him most thoroughly and clearly.  He felt ridiculously
+like a captive, and his doubts as to his immediate escape increased.
+The gaudy drawing-room, the dingy stairs, the gas hissing in the hall,
+had been, in all conscience, depressing enough, but now this heavy,
+mute, ominous woman, trailing her black robes so funereally behind her,
+seemed, to his excited fancy, some implacable Frankenstein created by
+his own thrice-cursed folly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The dinner was not a success.  The food was bad, but that Robin had
+expected.  As he faced the depression of it, he was more than ever
+determined to end it, conclusively, that evening, but Mrs. Feverel's
+gloom and Dahlia's little attempts at coquettish gaiety frightened him.
+The conversation, supported mainly by Dahlia, fell into terrible
+lapses, and the attempts to start it again had the unhappy air of
+desperate remedies doomed to failure.  Dahlia's pathetic glances failed
+of their intent.  Robin was too deeply engaged in his own gloomy
+reflections to notice them, but her eyes filled with tears, and at last
+her efforts ceased and a horrible, gloomy silence fell like a choking
+fog upon them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Will you smoke, Robin?" she said, when at last the dessert, in the
+shape of some melancholy oranges and one very attenuated banana, was on
+the table.  "Egyptian or Turkish&mdash;or will you have a pipe?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He took a cigarette clumsily from the box and his fingers trembled as
+he lit first hers and then his own&mdash;he was so terribly afraid of
+cutting a ridiculous figure.  He sat down again and beat a tattoo on
+the tablecloth.  Mrs. Feverel, with some grimly muttered excuse, left
+the room.  She watched him a moment from the other side of the table
+and then she came over to him.  She bent over his chair, leaning her
+hands on his shoulders.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin, what is it?" she said.  "What's happened?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nothing," he said gloomily.  "It's all right&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! do you suppose I haven't seen?"  She bent closer to him and
+pressed her cheek against his.  "Robin, old boy&mdash;you're not getting
+tired of me?  You're tired or cross to-night&mdash;I don't know.  I've been
+very patient all this time&mdash;waiting for you&mdash;hoping that you would
+come&mdash;longing for you&mdash;and you never came&mdash;all these many weeks.  Then
+I thought that, perhaps, you were too busy or were afraid of people
+talking&mdash;but, at last, there was to be to-night; and I've looked
+forward to it&mdash;oh! so much!&mdash;and now you're like this!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was nearly crying, and there was that miserable little catch in her
+voice.  He did feel an awful cad&mdash;he hadn't thought that she would
+really care so much as this; but still it had to be done some time, and
+this seemed a very good opportunity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He cleared his throat, and, beating the carpet with his foot, tried to
+speak with dignity as well as feeling&mdash;but he only succeeded in being
+patronising.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You know," he said quickly, and without daring to look at her, "one's
+had time to think.  I don't mean that I'm sorry it's all been as it
+has&mdash;we've had a ripping time&mdash;but I'm not sure&mdash;one can't be
+certain&mdash;that it's best for it to go on&mdash;quite like this.  You see, old
+girl, it's so damned serious.  Of course my people have ideas about my
+marrying&mdash;of course the Trojans have always had to be careful.  People
+expect it of them&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He stopped for a moment.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You mean that I'm not good enough?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had stepped back from his chair and was standing with her back to
+the wall.  He got up from his chair and turned round and faced her,
+leaning with his hands on the table.  But he could not face her for
+long; his eyes dropped before the fury in hers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, no, Dahlia&mdash;how stupid of you!&mdash;of course it's not that.  It's
+really rather unkind of you to make it harder for me.  It's difficult
+enough to explain.  You're good enough for any one, but I'm not quite
+sure, dear, whether we'd be quite the people to marry!  We'd be
+splendid friends, of course&mdash;we'll always be that&mdash;but we're both very
+young, and, after all, it's rather hard for one to know.  It was
+splendid at Cambridge, but I don't think we quite realised&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You mean you didn't," she broke in quickly.  "I know well enough.
+Some one's been speaking to you, Robin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No&mdash;nobody."  He looked at her fiercely.  She had hurt his pride.  "As
+if I'd be weak enough to let that make any difference.  No one has said
+a word&mdash;only&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Only&mdash;you've been thinking that we're not quite good enough for
+you&mdash;that we'd soil your Trojan carpets and chairs&mdash;that we'd stain
+your Trojan relations.  I&mdash;I know&mdash;I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And then she broke down altogether.  She was kneeling by the table with
+her head in her arms, sobbing as though her heart would break.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I say, Dahlia, don't!  I can't bear to see you cry&mdash;it will be all
+right, old girl, to-morrow&mdash;it will really&mdash;and then you will see that
+it was wiser.  You will thank me for speaking about it.  Of course
+we'll always be good friends.  I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin, you don't mean it.  You can't!"  She had risen from her knees
+and now stood by him, timidly, with one hand on his arm.  "You have
+forgotten all those splendid times at Cambridge.  Don't you remember
+that evening on the Backs?  Just you and I alone when there was that
+man singing on the other side of the water, when you said that we would
+be like that always&mdash;together.  Oh, Robin dear, it can't have been all
+nothing to you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She looked very charming with her eyes a little wet and her hair a
+little dishevelled.  But his resolution must not weaken&mdash;now that he
+had progressed so far, he must not go back.  But he put his arm round
+her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Really, old girl, it is better&mdash;for both of us.  We can wait.  Perhaps
+in a few years' time it will seem different again.  We can think about
+it then.  I don't want to seem selfish, but you must think about me a
+little.  You must see how hard it has been for me to say this, and that
+it has only been with the greatest difficulty that I've been strong
+enough.  Believe me, dear, it is harder for me than it is for you&mdash;much
+harder."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was really getting on very well.  He had had no idea that he would
+do it so nicely.  Poor girl! it was hard luck&mdash;perhaps he had led her
+to expect rather too much&mdash;those letters of his had been rather too
+warm, a little indiscreet.  But no doubt she would marry some excellent
+man of her own class&mdash;in a few years she would look back and wonder how
+she had ever had the fortune to know so intimately a man of Robin's
+rank!  Meanwhile, the scene had better end as soon as possible.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had let him keep his arm round her waist, and now she suddenly
+leant back and looked up in his face.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin, darling," she whispered, "you can't mean it&mdash;not that we should
+part like this.  Why, think of the times that we have had&mdash;the
+splendid, glorious times&mdash;and all that we're going to have.  Think of
+all that you've said to me, over and over again&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She crept closer to him.  "You love me really, dear, all the same.
+It's only that some one's been talking to you and telling you that it's
+foolish.  But that mustn't make any difference.  We're strong enough to
+face all the world.  You know that you said you were in the summer, and
+I'm sure that you are now.  Wait till to-morrow, dear, and you'll see
+it all differently."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I tell you nobody's been talking," he said, drawing his arm away.
+"Besides, if they did, it wouldn't make any difference.  No, Dahlia,
+it's got to stop.  We're too young to know, and besides, it would be
+absurd anyway.  I know it's bad luck on you.  Perhaps I said rather too
+much in the summer.  But of course we'll always be good friends.  I
+know you'll see it as I do in a little time.  We've both been
+indiscreet, and it's better to draw back now than later&mdash;really it is."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do you mean it, Robin?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She stood facing him with her hands clenched; her face was white and
+her eyes were blazing with fury.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, of course," he said.  "I think it's time this ended&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not before I've told you what I think of you," she cried.  "You're a
+thief and a coward&mdash;you've stolen a girl's love and then you're afraid
+to face the world&mdash;you're afraid of what people will say.  If you don't
+love me, you're tied to me, over and over again.  You've made me
+promises&mdash;you made me love you&mdash;and now when your summer amusement is
+over you fling me aside&mdash;you and your fine relations!  Oh! you
+gentlemen!  It would be a good thing for the world if we were rid of
+the whole lot of you!  You coward!  You coward!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was taken aback by her fury.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I say&mdash;Dahlia&mdash;" he stammered, "it's unfair&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! yes!" she broke in, "unfair, of course, to you! but nothing to
+me&mdash;nothing to me that you stole my love&mdash;robbed me of it like a common
+thief&mdash;pretended to love me, promised to marry me, and now&mdash;now&mdash;Oh!
+unfair! yes, always for the man, never for the girl&mdash;she doesn't count!
+She doesn't matter at all.  Break her heart and fling it away and
+nobody minds&mdash;it's as good as a play!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She burst into tears, and stood with her head in her hands, sobbing as
+though her heart would break.  It was a most distressing scene!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Really, really, Dahlia," said Robin, feeling extremely uncomfortable
+(it was such a very good thing, he thought, that none of his friends
+could see him), "it's no use your taking it like this.  I had better
+go&mdash;we can't do any good by talking about it now.  To-morrow, when we
+can look at it calmly, it will seem different."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He moved to the door, but she made another attempt and put her hand
+timidly on his arm to stop him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, no, Robin, I didn't mean what I said&mdash;not like that.  I didn't
+know what I was saying.  Oh, I love you, dear, I love you!  I can't let
+you go like that.  You don't know what it means to me.  You are taking
+everything from me&mdash;when you rob a girl of her love, of her heart, you
+leave her nothing.  If you go now, I don't care what happens to
+me&mdash;death&mdash;or worse, That's how you make a bad woman, Robin.  Taking
+her love from her and then letting her go.  You are taking her soul!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he placed her gently aside.  "Nonsense, Dahlia," he said.  "You are
+excited to-night.  You exaggerate.  You will meet a man much worthier
+than myself, and then you will see that I was right."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He opened the door and was gone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She sat down at the table.  She heard him open and shut the hall door,
+and then his steps echoed down the street, and at last there was
+silence.  She sat at the table with her head bent, her eyes gazing at
+the oranges and the bananas.  The house was perfectly silent, and her
+very heart seemed to have ceased to beat.  Of course she did not
+realise it; it seemed to her still as though he would come back in a
+moment and put his arms round her and tell her that it was all a
+game&mdash;just to see if she had really cared.  But the silence of the
+street and the house was terrible.  It choked her, and she pulled at
+her frock to loosen the tightness about her throat.  It was cruel of
+him to have gone away like that&mdash;but of course he would come back.
+Only why was that cold misery at her heart?  Why did she feel as if
+some one had placed a hand on her and drawn all her life away, and left
+her with no emotion or feeling&mdash;only a dull, blank, despair, like a
+cold fog through which no sun shone?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For she was beginning to realise it slowly.  He had gone away, after
+telling her, brutally, frankly, that he was tired of her&mdash;that he had,
+indeed, never really cared for her.  That was it&mdash;he had never cared
+for her&mdash;all those things that he had promised in the summer had been
+false, words without any meaning.  All that idyll had been hollow, a
+sham, and she had made it the centre of her world.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She got up from the table and swayed a little as she stood.  She
+pressed her hands against her forehead as though she would drive into
+her brain the fact that there would be no one now&mdash;no one at all&mdash;it
+was all a lie, a lie, a lie!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The door opened softly and Mrs. Feverel stole in.  "Dahlia&mdash;what has he
+done?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She looked at her as though she could not see her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, nothing," she said slowly.  "He did nothing.  Only it's all
+over&mdash;there is not going to be any more."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And then, as though the full realisation of it had only just been borne
+in upon her, she sat down at the table again and burst into passionate
+crying.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Feverel watched her.  "I knew it was coming, my dear&mdash;weeks ago.
+You know I told you, only you wouldn't listen.  Lord! it was plain
+enough.  He'd only been playing the same game as all the rest of them."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dahlia dried her eyes fiercely.  "I'm a fool to make so much of it,"
+she said.  "I wasn't good enough&mdash;he said&mdash;not good enough.  His people
+wouldn't like it and the rest&mdash;Oh!  I've been a fool, a fool!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Her mood changed to anger again.  Even now she did not grasp it fully,
+but he had insulted her.  He had flung back in her face all that she
+had given him.  Injured pride was at work now, and for a moment she
+hated him so that she could have killed him gladly had he been there.
+But it was no good&mdash;she could not think about it clearly; she was
+tired, terribly tired.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm tired to death, mother," she said.  "I can't think to-night."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She stumbled a little as she turned to the door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"At least," said Mrs. Feverel, "there are the letters."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Dahlia had scarcely heard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The letters?" she said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That he wrote in the summer.  You have them safe enough?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the girl did not reply.  She only climbed heavily up the dark
+stairs.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap04"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER IV
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Clare Trojan was having her breakfast in her own room.  It was ten
+o'clock, and a glorious September morning, and the sparrows were
+twittering on the terrace outside as though they considered it highly
+improper for any one to have breakfast between four walls when Nature
+had provided such a splendid feast on the lawn.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare was reading a violent article in the <I>National Review</I> concerning
+the inadequacy of our present solution of the housing problem; but it
+did not interest her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+If the world had only been one large Trojan family there would have
+been no problem.  The trouble was that there were Greeks.  She did
+dimly realise their existence, but the very thought of them terrified
+her.  Troy must be defended, and there were moments when Clare was
+afraid that its defenders were few; but she blinded herself to the
+dangers of attack.  "There are no Greeks, there <I>are</I> no Greeks."
+Clare stood alone on the Trojan walls and defied that world of
+superstition and pagan creeds.  With the armour of tradition and an
+implicit belief in the watchword of all true Trojan leaders, "Qui dort
+garde," she warded the sacred hearths; but there were moments when her
+eyes were opened and signs were revealed to her of another
+world&mdash;something in which Troy could have no place; and then she was
+afraid.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was considering Harry, his coming, and his probable bearing on
+present conditions, and she knew that once again the Trojan walls were
+in danger.  It seemed to her, as she sat there, cruelly unfair that the
+son of the House, the man who in a little while would stand before the
+world as the head of the Trojan tradition, should be the chief
+instrument in the attempted destruction of the same.  She had not liked
+Harry in the old days.  She had always, even as a girl, a very stern
+idea of the dignity of the House.  Harry had never fulfilled this idea,
+had never even attempted to.  He had been wild, careless,
+undisciplined, accompanying strange uncouth persons on strange uncouth
+adventures; he had been almost a byword in the place.  No, she had not
+liked him; she had almost hated him at one time.  And then after he had
+gone away she had deliberately forgotten him; she had erased his name
+from the fair sheet of the Trojan record, and had hoped that the House
+would never more be burdened by his undisciplined history.  Then she
+had heard that there was a son and heir, and her one thought had been
+of capture, deliverance of the new son of the House from his father's
+influence.  She was not deliberately cruel in her determination; she
+saw that the separation must hurt the father, but she herself was ready
+to make sacrifice for the good of the House and she expected the same
+self-denial in others.  Harry made no difficulties.  New Zealand was no
+place for a lonely widower to bring up his boy, and Robin was sent
+home.  From that moment he was the centre of Clare's world; much
+self-denial can make a woman good, only maternity can make her divine.
+To bring the boy up for the House, to tutor him in all the little and
+big things that a Trojan must know and do, to fit him to take his place
+at the head of the family on a later day; all these things she laboured
+for, day and night without ceasing, and without divided interests.  She
+loved the boy, too, passionately, with more than a mother's love, and
+now she looked back over what had been her life-work with pride and
+satisfaction.  She had tried to forget Harry.  She hoped, although she
+never dared to face the thought in her heart, that he would die there,
+away in that foreign country, without coming back to them again.  Robin
+was hers now; she had educated him, loved him, scolded him&mdash;he was all
+hers, she would brook no division.  Then, when she had heard that Harry
+was to come home, it had been at first more than she could bear.  She
+had burst into wild incoherent protests; she had prayed that an
+accident might happen to him and that he might never reach home.  And
+then the Trojan pride and restraint had come to her aid.  She was
+ashamed, bewildered, that she could have sunk to such depths; she
+prepared to meet him calmly and quietly; she even hoped that, perhaps,
+he might be so changed that she would welcome him.  And, after all, he
+would in a little time be head of the House.  Robin, too, was strongly
+under her influence, and it was unlikely that he would leave her for a
+man whom he had never known, for whom he could not possibly care.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was this older claim of hers with regard to Robin that did, she
+felt, so obviously strengthen her position, and now that Harry had
+really returned, she thought that her fears need not trouble her much
+longer&mdash;he did all the things that Robin disliked most.  His
+boisterousness, heartiness, and good-fellowship, dislike of everyday
+conventionality, would all, she knew, count against him with Robin.
+She had seen him shrink on several occasions, and each time she had
+been triumphantly glad.  For she was frightened, terribly frightened.
+Harry was threatening to take from her the one great thing around which
+her life was centred; if he robbed her of Robin he robbed her of
+everything, and she must fight to keep him.  That it would come to a
+duel between them she had long foreseen, she had governed for so long
+that she would not easily yield her place now; but she had not known
+that she would feel as she did about Robin, she had not known that she
+would be jealous&mdash;jealous of every look and word and motion.  She had
+never known what jealousy was before, but now in the silence of the
+golden, sunlit room, with only the twittering of the birds on the lawn
+to disturb her thoughts, she faced the facts honestly without
+shrinking, and she knew that she hated her brother.  Oh! why couldn't
+he go back again to his sheep-shearing!  Why had he come to disturb
+them!  It was not his environment, it was not his life at all!  She
+felt that they could never lead again that same quiet, ordered
+existence; like a gale of wind he had burst their doors and broken
+their windows, and now the house was open, desolate, to the world.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She went up to her father's room, as was her custom every morning after
+breakfast.  He was lying at his open window, watching, with those
+strange, restless eyes of his, the great expanse of sea and sky
+stretching before him.  His room was full of light and air.  Its white
+walls and ceiling, great bowls of some of the last of the summer's
+roses, made it seem young and vigorous and alive.  It was almost a
+shock to see that huddled, dying old man with his bent head and
+trembling hands&mdash;but his eyes were young, and his heart.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As she looked at him, she wondered why she had never really cared for
+him.  At first she had been afraid; then, as she grew older and a
+passionate love for and pride in the family as a conservative and
+ancient institution developed in her, that fear became respect, and she
+looked up to her father from a distance, admiring his reserve and pride
+but never loving him; and now that respect had become pity, and above
+all a great longing that he might live for many, many years, securing
+the household gods from shame and tending the fire on the Trojan
+hearth.  For at the moment of his death would come the crisis&mdash;the
+question of the new rule.  At one time it had seemed certain that Robin
+would be king, with herself a very vigilant queen-regent.  But now that
+was all changed.  Harry had come home, and it was into his hands that
+the power would fall.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had often wondered that she knew her father so little.  He had
+always been difficult to understand; a man of two moods strongly
+opposed&mdash;strangely taciturn for days together, and then brilliantly
+conversational, amusing, and a splendid companion.  She had never known
+which of these attitudes was the real one, and now that he was old she
+had abandoned all hope of ever answering the question.  His moods were
+more strongly contrasted than ever.  He often passed quickly from one
+to the other.  If she had only known which was the real one; she felt
+at times that his garrulity was a blind&mdash;that he watched her almost
+satirically whilst he talked.  She feared his silences terribly, and
+she used often to feel that a moment was approaching when he would
+reveal to her definitely and finally some plot that he had during those
+many watchful years been forming.  She knew that he had never let her
+see his heart&mdash;he had never taken her into his confidence.  She had
+tried to establish some more intimate relationship, but she had failed;
+and now, for many years, she had left it at that.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she wanted to know what he thought of Harry.  She had waited for a
+sign, but he had given none; and although she had watched him carefully
+she had discovered nothing.  He had not mentioned his son&mdash;a stranger
+might have thought that he had not noticed him.  But Clare knew him too
+well to doubt that he had come to some definite conclusion in the
+matter.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She bustled cheerfully about the room, humming a little tune and
+talking to him, lightly and with no apparent purpose.  He watched the
+gulls fly past the open window, his eyes rested on a golden flash of
+sun that struck some shining roof in the Cove, but his mind was back in
+the early days when he had played his game with the best and had seen
+the bright side of the world.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He was a rake, Jack Crayle"&mdash;he seemed scarcely conscious that Clare
+was in the room&mdash;"a rake but a good heart, and an amusing fellow too.
+I remember meeting old Rendle and Hawdon Sallust&mdash;Hawdon of the
+eighties, you know&mdash;not the old man&mdash;he kept at home&mdash;all three of them
+at White's, Rendle and Sallust and Crayle; Jack bet Rendle he wouldn't
+stop the next man he met in the street and claim him as an old friend
+and bring him in&mdash;and, by Jove, he took it and brought him in,
+too&mdash;sort of tramp chap he was, too&mdash;dirty, untidy fellow&mdash;but Rendle
+was game serious&mdash;by Gad, he was.  Said he was an old friend that had
+fallen on evil times&mdash;gave him a drink and won the bet&mdash;'63 that
+was&mdash;the year Bailey won that polo match against old Tom Radley&mdash;all
+the town was talking of it.  By Gad, he could ride, Bailey could.
+Why&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's time for your medicine, father," said Clare, breaking ruthlessly
+in upon the reminiscences.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Eh, dear, yes," he said, looking at her curiously.  "You're never
+late, Clare, always up to time.  Yes, yes, well, well; in '63 that was.
+I remember it like yesterday&mdash;old Tom&mdash;particular friend he was of mine
+then, although we broke afterwards&mdash;my fault too, probably, about a
+horse it was.  I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Clare gave him his medicine, first tying a napkin round his neck
+lest she should spill the drops.  He looked at her, smiling, over the
+napkin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You were always a girl for method," he said again; "not like Harry."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She looked at him quickly, but could guess nothing; she was suddenly
+frightened, as she so often was when he laughed like that.  She always
+expected that some announcement would follow.  It was almost as if he
+had threatened her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Harry?" she said.  "No.  But he is very like he used to be in some
+ways.  It is nice to have him back again&mdash;but&mdash;well, he will find
+Pendragon rather different from Auckland, I'm afraid."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sir Jeremy said nothing.  He lay there without moving; Clare untied the
+napkin, and put back the medicine, and wheeled the chair into a sunnier
+part of the room and away from the window.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You must get on with Harry, Clare," he said suddenly, sharply.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, yes," she answered, laughing a little uneasily.  "Of course we
+get on.  Only his way of looking at things was always a little
+different&mdash;even, perhaps, a little difficult to understand"; and then,
+after a little pause, "I am stupid, I know.  It was always hard for me
+to see like other people."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he was not listening to her.  He was smiling at the sun, and the
+birds on the lawn, and the flashing gold of the distant sand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, you never saw like Harry," he said at last.  "You want to be old
+to understand," and he would say no more.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He talked to her no more that morning, and she was vaguely uneasy.
+What was he thinking about Harry, and how did his opinion influence the
+situation?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She fancied that she saw signs of rebellion.  For many years he had
+allowed her to do what she would, and although she had sometimes
+wondered whether he was quite as passive as she had fancied, she had
+had no fear of any disturbance.  Now there was something vaguely
+menacing in his very silences.  And, in some undefined way, the
+pleasure that he took in the cries of birds, the plunge and chatter of
+the sea as it rose and fell on the southern shore, the glint of the sun
+on the gold and green distances of rock and moor was alarming.  She
+herself did not understand those things; indeed, she scarcely saw them,
+and was inclined to despise any one who loved any unpractical beauty,
+anything that was not at least traditional.  And now this was a bond
+between her father and Harry.  They had both loved wild, uncivilised
+things, and it was this very trait in their character that had made
+division between them before.  But now what had been in those early
+years the cause of trouble was their common ground of sympathy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They shared some secret of which she knew nothing, and she was afraid
+lest Robin should learn it too.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She went about her housekeeping duties that morning with an uneasy
+mind.  The discipline below stairs was excellent because she was
+feared.  It was not that she was hasty-tempered or unjust; indeed the
+cook, who had been there for many years, said that she had never seen
+Miss Clare angry, and her justice was a thing to marvel at.  She always
+gave people their due, and exactly their due; she never over-praised or
+blamed, and that was why people said that she was cold; it was also,
+incidentally, responsible for her excellent discipline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was, as Sir Jeremy had said, a woman of amazing method.  But the
+attitude of her actual household helped her; they were all, by
+education and environment, Trojans.  Whatever they had been before they
+entered service at "The Flutes"&mdash;Radicals, Socialists, Dissenters, or
+Tones&mdash;at the moment of passing the threshold they were transformed
+into Trojans.  Other things fell from them like a mantle, and in their
+serious devotion to traditional Conservatism they were examples of the
+true spirit of Feudalism.  Beldam, the butler, had long ago graduated
+as Professor in the system.  Coming as page-boy in earlier years, he
+had acquired the by no means easy art of Trojan diplomacy.  It was now
+his duty to overhaul, as it were, every servant that passed the gates;
+an overhauling, moreover, done seriously and with much searching of the
+heart.  Were you a Trojan?  That is, do you consider that you are
+exceptionally fortunate in being chosen to perform menial but necessary
+duties in the Trojan household?  Will you spend the rest of your days,
+not only in performing your duties worthily, but also in preaching to a
+blind and misguided world the doctrine of Trojan perfection and
+superiority?  If the answer were honestly affirmative, you were
+accepted; otherwise, you were expelled with a fortnight's wages and
+eternal contempt.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Even the scullerymaid was not spared, but had to pass an examination in
+rites and rituals so severe that one unfortunate, Annie Grace Marks,
+after Beldam had spoken to her severely for half-an-hour, burst out
+with an impetuous, "Thank Gawd, she was a Marks, which was as good as
+the High and Mighty any day of the week, and better, for there wasn't
+no pride in the Marks and never 'ad been."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She received her dismissal that same evening.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the case of Annie Marks was an isolated one.  Rebellion was very
+occasional, and, for the most, the servants stayed at "The
+Flutes"&mdash;partly because the pay was good, and partly because the very
+reiteration of Trojan supremacy gave them a feeling of elevation very
+pleasant to their pride.  In accordance with all true feudal law, you
+lost your own sense of birth and ancestry and became in a moment a
+Trojan; for Smith, Jones, and Robinson this was very comforting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So Clare had very little trouble, and this morning she was able to
+finish her duties speedily, and devote her whole attention to the
+crisis that threatened the family.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She decided to see Garrett, and made her way to his room.  He was
+writing, and seemed disturbed by her entry.  He had been working for
+some years on a book to be entitled, "Our Aristocracy: its Threatened
+Supremacy."  He was still engaged on the preliminary chapter, "Some
+aspects of historical aristocracy," and it had developed into a
+somewhat minute account of Trojan past history.  He had no expectations
+of ever concluding the work, but it gave him a pleasant sense of
+importance and seemed in some vague way to be of value to the Trojan
+family.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was always happy when at work, although he effected very little;
+but, after all, the great stylists always worked slowly.  His style
+was, it is true, somewhat commonplace; but his rather minute output
+allowed him to rank, in his own estimation, with Pater and Omar
+Khayyám, and disdain the voluminous facility of Thackeray and Dickens.
+He was, he felt, one of the "precious" writers, and so long as no one
+saw his work he was able both to comfort himself and to impress others
+with the illusion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was said vaguely in Pendragon that "Garrett Trojan was a clever
+fellow&mdash;was writing a book&mdash;said to be brilliant, of great promise&mdash;no,
+he hadn't seen it, but&mdash;&mdash;" etc.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So Garrett looked at his sister a little resentfully.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I hope it's important, Clare," he said, "because&mdash;well, you know, the
+morning's one's time for work, and once one gets off the track it's
+difficult to get back; not that I've done much, you know, only half a
+page&mdash;but this kind of thing can't move quickly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm sorry, Garrie," she answered, "but you've got to talk to me.
+There are things about which I want your advice."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She did not really want it; she had decided on her line of conduct, and
+nothing that he could say would alter her decision&mdash;but it flattered
+him, and she needed his help.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, of course," he said, pushing his chair back and coming to the
+fire, "if it's anything I can do&mdash;  What is it, Clare?  Household or
+something in the town?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, nothing," she laughed at him.  "Don't be worried, Garrie; I know
+it's horrid to disturb you, and there's really nothing&mdash;only&mdash;well,
+after all, there is only us, isn't there?  for acting together I
+mean&mdash;and I want to know what line you're going on."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! about Harry?"  He looked at her sharply for a moment.  "You know
+that I object to lines, Clare.  They are dangerous things."  He implied
+that he was above them.  "Of course there are times when it is
+necessary to&mdash;well, to be decisive; but at present it seems to me that
+we must wait for the situation to develop&mdash;it will, of course."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I knew that you would say that," she said impatiently.  "But it won't
+do; the situation <I>has</I> developed.  You always preferred to look on&mdash;it
+is, as you say, less dangerous; but here I must have your help.  Harry
+has been back a week; he is, for you and me, unchanged.  The situation,
+as far as we go, is the same as it was twenty years ago.  He is not one
+of us, he never was, and, to do him justice, never pretended to be.
+We, or at any rate I, imagined that he would be different now, after
+all that time.  He is exactly the same."  She paused.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well?" he said.  "All that for granted, it's true enough.  What's the
+trouble?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Things aren't the same though, now.  There is father, and Robin.
+Father has taken to Harry strongly.  He told me so just now.  And for
+Robin&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Scarcely captivated," said Garrett drily.  "Have you seen them
+together?  Hardly domestic&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then he looked at her again and laughed.  "And that pleases you, Clare."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course," she answered him firmly.  "There is no good in hedging.
+He is no brother of ours, Garrett.  He is, what is more important
+still, no Trojan, and after all family counts for something.  We don't
+like him, Garrett.  Why be sentimental about it?  He will follow
+father&mdash;and it will be soon&mdash;<I>après, le déluge</I>.  For ourselves, it
+does not matter.  It is hard, of course, but we have had our time, and
+there are other things and places.  It is about Robin.  I cannot bear
+to think what it would mean if he were alone here with Harry, after all
+these years."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He would not stay."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You think that?" Clare said eagerly.  "It is so hard to know.  He is
+still only a boy.  Of course Harry shocks him now, shocks
+everything&mdash;his sense of decency, his culture, his pride&mdash;but that will
+wear off; he will get used to it&mdash;and then&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It had been inevitable that the discussion should come, and Garrett had
+been waiting.  He had no intention of going to find her, he would wait
+until she came to him, but he had been anxious to know her opinion.
+For himself the possibility of Harry's return had never presented
+itself.  After all those years he would surely remain where he was.  In
+yielding his son he had seemed to abandon all claim to any rights of
+inheritance, and Garrett had thought of him as one comfortably dead.
+He had contemplated his own ultimate succession with the pleasurable
+certainty that it was absolutely the right thing.  In his love for a
+rather superficial tradition he was a perfect Trojan, and might be
+relied on to continue existing conditions without any attempt at
+radical changes.  Clare, too, would be of great use.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But in a moment what had been, in his mind, certainty was changed into
+impossibility; instead of a certain successor he had become some one
+whose very existence was imperilled&mdash;his existence, that is, on the
+only terms that were in the least comfortable.  Everything that made
+life worth living was threatened.  Not that his brother would turn him
+out; he granted Harry the very un-Trojan virtues of generosity and
+affection for humanity in general&mdash;a rather foolish, gregarious
+open-handedness opposed obviously to all decent economy.  But Harry
+would keep him&mdash;and the very thought stirred Garrett to a degree of
+anger that his sluggish nature seldom permitted him.  Kept! and by
+Harry!  Harry the outlaw!  Harry the rebel!  Harry the Greek!  Garrett
+scarcely loved his brother when he thought of it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But it was necessary that some line of action should be adopted, and he
+was glad that Clare had taken the first step.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You don't think," he said doubtfully, "that he could be induced to go
+back?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What!" cried Clare, "after these years and the way he has waited!
+Why, remember that first evening!  He will never leave this again.  He
+has been dreaming about it too long!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't know," said Garrett.  "He'll be at loggerheads with the town
+very soon.  He has been saying curious things to a good many people.
+He objects to all improvement and says so.  The place will soon be too
+hot for him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Clare shook her head.  "No," she said.  "He will soon find out
+about things&mdash;and then, in a little, when he takes father's place, what
+people think odd and unpleasant now will be original and strong.
+Besides, he would never go, whatever might happen, because of Robin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, yes, there is Robin.  It will be curious to watch developments
+there.  Randal comes to-day, doesn't he?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, this afternoon.  A most delightful boy.  I'm afraid that he may
+find Harry tiresome."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We must wait," Garrett said finally; "in a week's time we shall see
+better.  But, Clare, don't be rash.  There is father&mdash;and, besides, it
+will scarcely help Robin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! no melodrama," she said, laughing and moving towards the door.
+"Only, we understand each other, Garrie.  Things won't do as they
+are&mdash;or, as they promise to be."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett returned, with a sigh of relief, to his papers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For Harry the week had been a series of bitter disappointments.  He
+woke gradually from his dreams and saw that everything was changed.  He
+was in a new world and he was out of place.  Those dreams had been
+coloured, fantastically, beautifully.  In the white pebbles, the golden
+sand, the curling grey smoke of the Cove, he had formed pictures that
+had lightened many dreary and lonely hours in Auckland.  He was to come
+back; away from that huge unwieldy life in which comfort had no place
+and rest was impossible, back to all the old things, the wonderful
+glorious things that meant home and tradition and, above all, love.  He
+was a sentimentalist, he knew that now.  It had not been so in those
+old days; the life had been too adventurous and exciting, and he had
+despised the quiet comforts of a stay-at-home existence.  But now he
+knew its value; he would come home and take his place as head of the
+family, as father, as citizen&mdash;he had learnt his lesson, and at last it
+was time for the reward.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But now that he had come home he found that the lesson was not learnt,
+or, perhaps, that the learning had been wasted; he must begin all over
+again.  Garrett and Clare had not changed; they had made no advances
+and had shown him quite plainly, in the courteous Trojan fashion, that
+they considered his presence an intrusion, that they had no place in
+their ranks that he could fill.  He was, he saw it plainly, no more in
+line with them than he had been twenty years before.  Indeed, matters
+were worse.  There was no possibility of agreement&mdash;they were poles
+apart.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With the town, too, he was an "outsider."  The men at the Club thought
+him a bore&mdash;a person of strange enthusiasms and alarming heresies.  By
+the ladies he was considered rough: as Mrs. le Terry had put it to Miss
+Ponsonby, he was a kind of too terrible bushranger without the romance!
+He was gauche, he knew, and he hated the tea-parties.  They talked
+about things of which he knew nothing; he was too sincere to cover his
+convictions with the fatuous chatter that passed, in Fallacy Street
+society, for brilliant wit.  That it was fatuous he was convinced, but
+his conviction made matters no easier for him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But his attitude to the town had been, it must be confessed, from the
+very first a challenge.  He had expected things that were not there; he
+had thought that his dreams were realities, and when he had demanded
+golden colours and had been shown stuff of sombre grey, there had been
+wild rebellion and impatient discontent with the world.  He had thought
+Pendragon amazing in its utter disregard of the things that were to him
+necessities, but he had forgotten that he himself despised so
+completely things that were to Pendragon essentials.  He had asked for
+beauty and they had given him an Esplanade; he had searched for romance
+and had discovered the new hotel; he dreamed of the sand and blue water
+of the Cove and had awaked to find the place despised and contemned&mdash;a
+site for future boarding-houses.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The town had thought him at first entertaining; they had made
+allowances for a certain rather picturesque absurdity consequent on
+backwoods and the friendship of Maories&mdash;men had laughed at the Club
+and detailed Harry Trojan's latest with added circumstances and
+incident, and for a while this was amusing.  But his vehemence knew no
+pause, and he stated his disgust at the practical spirit of the new
+Pendragon with what seemed to the choice spirits at the Club
+effrontery.  They smiled and then they sneered, and at last they left
+him alone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So Harry found himself, at the end of the first week after his return,
+alone in Pendragon.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had not, perhaps, cared for their rejection.  He had come, like
+Gottwalt in <I>Flegejahre</I>, "loving every dog, and wishing that every dog
+should love him"&mdash;but he had seen, at once, that his way must be apart
+from theirs, and in that knowledge he had tried to find the comfort of
+a minority certain of its own strength and disdainful of common
+opinion.  He had marvelled at their narrow vision and was unaware that
+his own point of view was equally narrow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And, after all, there was Robin.  Robin and he would defy Pendragon and
+laugh at its stupid little theories and short-sighted plans.  And then,
+slowly, irresistibly, he had seen that he was alone&mdash;that Robin was on
+the side of Pendragon.  He refused to admit it even now, and told
+himself again and again that the boy was naturally a little awkward at
+first&mdash;careless perhaps&mdash;certainly constrained.  But gradually a wall
+had been built up between them; they were greater strangers now than
+they had been on that first evening of the return.  Ah! how he had
+tried!  He had thought that, perhaps, the boy hated sentiment and he
+had held himself back, watching eagerly for any sign of affection,
+ready humbly to take part in anything, to help in any difficulty, to
+laugh, to sympathise, to take his place as he had been waiting to do
+for so many years.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Robin had made no advances, showed no sign.  He had almost repulsed
+him&mdash;had at least been absolutely indifferent.  They had had a walk
+together, and Harry had tried his best&mdash;but the attempt had been
+obvious, and at last there had come a terrible silence; they had walked
+back through the streets of Pendragon without a word.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Everything that Harry had said had been unfortunate.  He had praised
+the Cove enthusiastically, and Robin had been contemptuous.  He had
+never heard of Pater and had confounded Ibsen with Jerome K. Jerome.
+He had praised cricket and met with no reply.  Twice he had seen
+Robin's mouth curl contemptuously, and it had cut him to the heart.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Poor Harry! he was very lonely.  During the last two days he had been
+down in the Cove; he had found his way into the little inn and got in
+touch with some of the fishermen.  But they scarcely solaced his
+loneliness.  He had met Mary Bethel on the downs, and for a moment they
+had talked.  There was no stiffness there; she had looked at him simply
+as a friend, with no hostility, and he had been grateful.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At last he had begun to look forward to the coming of Robin's friend,
+Randal.  He was, evidently, a person to whom Robin looked up with great
+admiration.  Perhaps he would form in some way a link, would understand
+the difficulties of both, and would help them.  Harry waited, eagerly,
+and formed a picture of Randal in his mind that gave him much
+encouragement.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was in his room now; it was half-past four, and the carriage had
+just passed up the drive.  He looked anxiously at his ties and
+hesitated between light green, brown, and black.  He had learnt the
+importance of these things in his son's eyes.  He was going next week
+to London to buy clothes; meanwhile he must not offend their sense of
+decency, and he hesitated in front of his tie-box like a girl before
+her first dance.  The green was terribly light.  It was a good tie, but
+perhaps not quite the thing.  Nothing seemed to go properly with his
+blue suit&mdash;the brown was dull and uninteresting&mdash;it lacked character;
+any one might have worn it, and he flung it back almost scornfully into
+the box.  The black was really best, but how dismal!  He seemed to see
+all his miserable loneliness and disappointment in its dark, sombre
+colour.  No, that would never do!  He must be bright, amusing,
+cheerful&mdash;anything but dull and dismal.  So he put on the green again,
+and went down to the drawing-room.  Randal was a young man of
+twenty-four&mdash;dark, tall, and slight, with a rather weary look in the
+eyes, as of one who had discovered the hollow mockery of the world and
+wondered at the pleasures of simple people.  He was perfectly dressed,
+and had arrived, after much thought and a University education, at that
+excellent result when everything is right, as it were, by accident&mdash;as
+though no thought had been taken at all.  As soon as a man appears to
+have laboured for effect, then he is badly dressed.  Randal was
+good-looking.  He had very dark eyes and thin, rather curling lips, and
+hair brushed straight back from his forehead.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The room was in twilight.  It was Clare's morning-room, chosen because
+it was cosy and favoured intimacy.  She was fond of Randal and liked to
+mother him; she also respected his opinions.  The windows looked over
+the sea and the blinds were not drawn.  The twilight, like a floating
+veil, hovered over sea and land; the last faint colours of the sunset,
+gold and rose and grey, trembled over the town.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry was introduced.  Randal smiled, but his hand was limp; Harry felt
+a little ashamed of his own hearty grasp and wished that he had been
+less effusive.  Randal's suit was dark blue and he wore a black tie;
+Harry became suddenly conscious of his daring green and, taking his
+tea, went and sat in the window and watched the town.  The first white
+colours of the young moon, slipping from the rosy-grey cloud, touched
+faintly the towers of the ruined church on the moor; he fancied that he
+could just see the four stones shining darkly grey against the horizon,
+but it was difficult to tell in that mysterious half-light.  Robin was
+sitting under the lamp by the door.  The light caught his hair, but his
+face was in shadow.  Harry watched him eagerly, hungrily.  Oh! how he
+loved him, his son!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Randal was discussing some people with whom he had been staying&mdash;a
+little languidly and without any very active interest.  "Rather a nice
+girl, though," he said.  "Only such a dreadful mother.  Young
+Page-Rellison would have had a shot, I do believe, if it hadn't been
+for the mother&mdash;wore a wig and talked Cockney, and fairly grabbed the
+shekels in bridge."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And what about the book?" Clare asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! going on," said Randal.  "I showed Cressel a chapter the other
+day&mdash;you know the New Argus man; and he was very nice about it.  Of
+course, some of the older men won't like it, you know.  It fairly goes
+for their methods, and I flatter myself hits them pretty hard once or
+twice.  You know, Miss Trojan, it's the young school you've got to look
+to nowadays; it's no use going back to those mid-Victorians&mdash;all very
+well for the schoolroom&mdash;cause and effect and all that kind of
+thing&mdash;but we must look ahead&mdash;be modern and you will be progressive,
+Miss Trojan."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's just what I'm always saying, Mr. Randal," said Clare, smiling.
+"We're fighting a regular battle over it down here, but I think we will
+win the day."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Randal turned to Harry.  "And you, sir," he said, "are with us, too?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry laughed.  He knew that Robin was looking at him.  "I have been
+away," he said, "and perhaps I have been a little surprised at the
+strides that things have made.  Twenty years is a long time, and I was
+romantic and perhaps foolish enough to expect that Pendragon would be
+very much the same when I came back.  It has changed greatly, and I am
+a little disappointed."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare looked up.  "My brother has lost touch a little, Mr. Randal," she
+said, "and I don't think quite sees what is good for the place&mdash;indeed,
+necessary.  At any rate, he scarcely thinks with us."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"With <I>us</I>."  There was emphasis on the word.  That meant Robin too.
+Randal glanced at him for a moment and then he turned to Robin&mdash;father
+and son!  A swift drawing of contrasts, perhaps with an inevitable
+conclusion in favour of his own kind.  It was suddenly as though the
+elder man was shut out of the conversation; they had, in a moment,
+forgotten his very presence.  He sat in the dusk by the window, his
+head in his hands, and terrible loneliness at his heart; it hurt as he
+had never known before that anything could hurt.  He had never known
+that he was sensitive; in Auckland it had not been so.  He had never
+felt things then, and had a little despised people that had minded.
+But there had been ever, in the back of his mind, the thought of those
+days that were coming when, with his son at his side, he could face all
+things.  Well, now he had his son&mdash;there, with him in the room.  The
+irony of it made him clench his hands, there in the dark, whilst they
+talked in the lighted room behind him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  King's is going to pot," Randal was saying.  "I was down in the
+Mays and they were actually running with the boats&mdash;they seemed quite
+keen on going up.  The decent men seem to have all gone."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin was paying very little attention.  He was looking worried, and
+Clare watched him a little anxiously.  "I hope you will be able to stay
+with us some days, Mr. Randal," she said.  "There are several new
+people in Pendragon whom I should like you to meet."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Randal was charmed.  He would love to stop, but he must get back to
+London almost immediately.  He was going over to Germany next week and
+there were many arrangements to be made.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Germany!"  It was Robin who spoke, but the voice was not his usual
+one.  It was alive, vibrating, startling.  "Germany!  By Jove!
+Randal&mdash;are you really going?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, of course," a little wearily; "I have been before, you know.
+Rather a bore, but the Rainers&mdash;you remember them, Miss Trojan&mdash;are
+going over to the Beethoven Festival at Bonn and are keen on my going
+with them.  I wasn't especially anxious, but one must do these things,
+you know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin was there a year ago&mdash;Germany, I mean&mdash;and loved it.  Didn't
+you, Robin?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Germany?  It was Paradise, Heaven&mdash;what you will.  Rügen, the Harz,
+Heidelberg, Worms&mdash;&mdash;"  He stopped and his voice broke.  "I'm a little
+absurd about it still," he said, as though in apology for such
+unnecessary enthusiasm.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! you're young, Robin," said Randal, laughing.  "When you've seen as
+much as I have you'll be blasé.  Not that one ought to be, but
+Germany&mdash;well, it hardly lasts, I think.  Rügen&mdash;why, it rained and
+there were mists round the Studenkammer, and how those people eat at
+the Jagdschloss!  Heidelberg! picture postcards and shocking
+hotels&mdash;Oh!  No, Robin, you'll see all that later.  I wish you were
+going instead of me, though."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry had looked up at the sound of Robin's voice.  It had been a new
+note.  There had been an eagerness, an enthusiasm, that meant life and
+something genuine.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Hope that had been slowly dying revived again.  If Robin really cared
+for Germany like that, then they had something in common.  With that
+spark a fire might be kindled.  A red-gold haze as of fire burnt in the
+night sky, over the town.  Stars danced overhead, a little wind,
+beating fitfully at the window, seemed to carry the light of the moon
+in its tempestuous track, blowing it lightly in silver mists and clouds
+over the moor.  The Wise Men were there, strong and dark and sombre,
+watching over the lighted town and listening patiently to the ripple
+and murmur and life of the sea at their feet.  In the little inn at the
+Cove men were sitting over the roaring fire, telling tales&mdash;strange,
+weird stories of a life that these others did not know.  Harry had
+heard them when he was a boy&mdash;those stories&mdash;and he had felt the spell
+and the magic.  There had been life in them and romance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Perhaps they were there again to-night, just as they had been twenty
+years before.  The stars called to him, the lighted town, the dusky,
+softly breathing sea, the loneliness of the moor.  He must get out and
+away.  He must have sympathy and warmth and friendship; he had come
+back to his own people with open arms and they had no place for him.
+His own son had repulsed him.  But Cornwall, the country of his dreams,
+the mother of his faith, the guardian of his honour, was there&mdash;the
+same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.  He would search for her and
+would find her&mdash;even though it were on the red-brick floor of the
+tavern in the Cove.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He turned round and found that the room was empty.  They had forgotten
+him and left him&mdash;without a word.  The light of the lamp caught the
+silver of the tea-things, and flashed and sparkled like a flame.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry Trojan softly opened the door, passed into the dim twilight of
+the hall, picked up his hat, and stepped into the garden.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap05"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER V
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+As he felt the crunch of the gravel beneath his feet he was possessed
+with the spirit of adventure.  The dark house behind him had been
+holding him captive.  It had held him against his will, imprisoning
+him, tormenting him, and the tortures that he had endured were many and
+severe.  He had not known that he could have felt it so much&mdash;that
+absolute rejection of him by everything in which he had trusted; but he
+would mind these things no longer&mdash;he would even try not to mind Robin!
+That would be hard, and as he thought of it even now for a moment tears
+had filled his eyes.  That, however, was cowardice.  He must fling away
+the hopes of twenty years and start afresh, with the knowledge won of
+his experience and the strength that he had snatched from his wounds.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And after all a man was a fool to mope and whine when that wind from
+the sea was beating in his ears and the sea scents of clover and
+poppies and salt stinging foam were brought to his nostrils, and the
+trees rustled like the beating of birds' wings in the velvety
+star-lighted sky.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A garden was wonderful at night&mdash;a place of strange silences and yet
+stranger sound: trees darkly guarding mysterious paths that ran into
+caverns of darkness; the scents of flowers rising from damp earth heavy
+with dew; flowers that were weary with the dust and noise of the day
+and slept gently, gratefully, with their heads drooping to the soil,
+their petals closed by the tender hands of the spirits of the garden.
+The night-sounds were strangely musical.  Cries that were discordant in
+the day mingled now with the running of distant water, the last notes
+of some bird before it slept, the measured harmony of a far-away bell,
+the gentle rustle of some arrival in the thickets; the voice that could
+not be heard in the noisy chatter of the day rose softly now in a
+little song of the night and the dark trees and the silver firelight of
+the stars.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And it was all very romantic, of course.  Harry Trojan had flung his
+cares behind him and stepped over the soft turf of the lawns, a free
+adventurer.  It was not really very late, and there was an hour before
+dinner; but he was not sure that he minded about that&mdash;they would be
+glad to dine without him.  There crossed his mind the memory of a night
+in New Zealand.  He had been walking down to the harbour in Auckland,
+and the moon had shone in the crooked water-side streets, its white,
+cold light crossed with dark black shadows of roofs and gables.
+Suddenly a woman's voice called for help across the silence, and he had
+turned and listened.  It had called again, and, thinking that he might
+help some one in distress, he had burst a dark, silent door, stumbled
+up crooked wooden stairs, and entered an empty room.  As he passed the
+door there was a sound of skirts, and a door at the other end of the
+room had closed.  There was no one there, only a candle guttering on
+the table, the remains of a meal, a woman's hat on the back of a chair;
+he had waited for some time in silence, he had called and asked if
+there was any one there, he had tried the farther door and found it
+shut&mdash;and so, cursing himself for a fool, he had passed down into the
+street again and the episode had ended.  There was really nothing in
+it&mdash;nothing at all; but it was the atmosphere, the atmosphere of
+romantic adventure shot suddenly across a rather drab and colourless
+existence, and he had liked to dwell on the possibilities of the affair
+and ask himself about it.  Who was the woman, and why had she cried
+out?  Why was there no one in the room?  And why had no one answered
+him?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He did not know and really he did not care, and, indeed, it was better
+that the affair should be left in vague and incomplete outline.  It was
+probably commonplace enough, had one only known, and sordid too,
+perhaps.  But to-night was just such a night as that other.  He would
+go to the Cove and find his romance where he had left it twenty years
+ago.  It was the hour in Pendragon when shops are closing and young men
+and maidens walk out.  There were a great many people in the street;
+girls with white, tired faces, young men with bright ties and a
+self-assertive air&mdash;a type of person new to Pendragon since Harry's
+day.  The young man who served you respectfully, almost timidly, behind
+the counter was now self-assertive, taking the middle of the street
+with a flourish of his cane.  Fragments of conversation came to Harry's
+ears&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mother being out I thought as 'ow I might venture&mdash;not but what she'd
+kick up a rare old fuss&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"So I told 'er it weren't no business of 'ers and the sooner she caught
+on to the idea the better for all parties, seein' as 'ow&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I never did! and you told 'im that, did yer?  I always said
+you'd some pluck if you really wanted to&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A gramophone from an open window up the street shrieked the alluring
+refrain of "She's a different girl again," and a man who had
+established himself at the corner under the protecting glare of two
+hissing gas-jets urged on the company present an immediate acceptance
+of his stupendous offer.  "Gold watches for 'alf a crown&mdash;positively
+for one evening in order to clear&mdash;all above board.  Solid gold and
+cheap at a sovereign."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The plunge into the cool depths of the winding little path that led
+down to the Cove was delicious.  Oh! the contrast of it!  The noise and
+ugly self-assertion of the town, flinging its gas-jets against the moon
+and covering the roll of the sea with the shriek of the gramophone.  He
+crossed through the turnstile at the bend of the road and passed up the
+hill that led to the Cove.  At a bend the view of the sea came to him,
+the white moonlight lying, a path of dancing shining silver, on the
+grey sweep of the sea.  A wind was blowing, turning the grey into
+sudden points of white&mdash;like ghostly hands rising for a moment suddenly
+from immensity and then sinking silently again, their prayers
+unanswered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he passed up the hill he was aware of something pattering beside
+him; at first it was a little uncanny in that dim, uncertain light, and
+he stopped and bent down to the road.  It was a dog, a fox-terrier of a
+kind, dirty, and even in that light most obviously a mongrel.  But it
+jumped up at him and put its paws on his knee.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, company's company," he said with a laugh.  "I don't know where
+you've sprung from, but we'll travel together for a bit."  The dog ran
+up the hill, and for a moment stood out against the moon&mdash;a shaggy,
+disreputable dog with a humorous stump of a tail.  He stood there with
+one ear flapping back and the other cocked up&mdash;a most ridiculous figure.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry laughed again and the dog barked; they walked down the hill
+together.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Cove was dark, but from behind shuttered windows lamps twinkled
+mysteriously, and the red glow from the inn flung a circle of light
+down the little cobbled street.  The beat of the sea came solemnly like
+the tramp of invisible armies from the distance.  There was no other
+sound save the tremble of the wind in the trees.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry pushed open the door of the inn and entered, followed by the dog.
+The place was the same; nothing had been changed.  There was the old
+wooden gallery where the fiddle had played such merry tunes.  The rough
+uneven floor had the same holes, the same hills and dales.  The great
+settle by the fire was marked, as in former years, with mysterious
+crosses and initials cut by jack-knives in olden days.  The two lamps
+shone in their accustomed places&mdash;one over the fire, another by the
+window.  The door leading to the bar was half open, and in the distance
+voices could be heard, but the room itself seemed to be empty.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A great fire leapt in the fireplace and the gold light of it danced on
+the red-brick floor.  The peculiar scent as of tobacco and ale and the
+salt of the sea, and, faintly, the breath of mignonette and geraniums,
+struck out the long intervals since Harry had been there before.
+Twenty years ago he had breathed the same air; and now he was back
+there again and nothing was changed.  The dog had run to the fire and
+sat in front of it now, wagging his stump of a tail, his ear cocked.
+Harry laughed and sat down in the settle; the burden of the last week
+was flung off and he was a free man.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A long, lean man with a straggling beard stood in the doorway and
+watched him; then he came forward.  "Mr. Harry," he said, and held out
+his hand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry started up.  "I'm sorry," he said, stammering, "I don't remember."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We were wonderin'," said the long, thin man slowly, "when you was
+comin' down.  Not that you'd remember faces&mdash;that's not to be
+expected&mdash;especially in foreign parts which is confusing and difficult
+for a man&mdash;but I'm Bill Tregarvis what have had you out fishin' many's
+the time&mdash;not that you'd remember faces," he said again, looking a
+little timidly at him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he did!  Harry remembered him perfectly!  Bill Tregarvis!  Why, of
+course&mdash;many was the time they had seen life together&mdash;he had had a
+wife and two boys.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry wrung his hand and laughed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Remember, Bill!  Why, of course!  It was only for a moment.  I had got
+the face all right but not the name.  Yes, I have, as a matter of fact,
+come before, but there were things that have made it difficult at
+first, and of course there was a lot to do up there.  But it's good to
+be down here!  The other place is changed; I had been a bit
+disappointed, but here it is just the same&mdash;the same old lights and
+smells and sea, and the same old friends&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yer think that?" Tregarvis looked at him.  "Because we'd been fearing
+that all your travelling and sight-seeing might have harmed you&mdash;that
+you'd be thinking a bit like the folk up-along with their cars and gas
+and filth.  Aye, it's a changed world up there, Mr. Harry; but
+down-along there's no difference.  It's the sea keeps us steady."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And then they talked about the old adventurous days when Harry had been
+eighteen and the world had been a very wonderful place: the herring
+fishing, the bathing, the adventures on the moor, the tales at night by
+candlelight, the fun of it all.  The room began to fill, and one after
+another men came forward and claimed friendship on the score of old
+days and perils shared.  They received him quite simply&mdash;he was "Mr.
+Harry," but still one of themselves, taking his place with them,
+telling tales and hearing them in return.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There were nine or ten of them, and a wild company they made, crowding
+round the fire, with the flames leaping and flinging gigantic shadows
+on the walls.  The landlord, a short, ruddy-faced man with white hair
+and a merry twinkle of the eye, was one of the best men that Harry had
+ever known.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was a man whose modesty was only equalled by his charity; a man of
+great humour, wide knowledge of the most varied subjects, and above all
+a passionate faith in the country of his birth, Cornwall.  He was, like
+most Cornishmen, superstitious, but his belief in Nature as a wise and
+beneficent mother, stern but never unjust, controlled his will and
+justified his actions.  In those early days Harry had worshipped him
+with that whole-hearted adoration bestowed at times by young
+hero-worshippers on those that have travelled a little way along the
+path and have learnt their lesson wisely.  Tony Newsome's influence had
+done more for Harry in those early years than he had realised, but he
+knew now what he owed to him as he sat by his side and recalled those
+other days.  They had written once or twice, but Tony was no
+correspondent and hated to have a pen between his fingers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Drive a horse, pull a boat, shoot a gun, mind a net&mdash;but God help me
+if I write," he had said.  Not that he objected to books; he had read a
+good deal and cared for it&mdash;but "God's air in the day and a merry fire
+at night leaves little room for pen and ink" was his justification.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He treated Harry now as his boy of twenty years ago, and laughed at him
+and scolded him as of old.  He did not question him very closely on the
+incidents of those twenty years, and indeed, with them all, Harry
+noticed that there was very little curiosity as to those other
+countries.  They welcomed him quietly, simply.  They were glad that he
+was there again, sitting with them, taking his place naturally and
+easily&mdash;and again the twenty years seemed as nothing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He sat with the dog at his feet.  Newsome's hand was on his knee, and
+every once and again he gave a smothered chuckle.  "I knew you'd come
+back, Mr. Harry," he said.  "I just waited.  Once the sea has got hold
+of you it doesn't loosen its grip so quick.  I knew you'd come back."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They told wild stories as they had been telling them for many years at
+the same hour in the same place&mdash;strange things seen at sea, the lights
+and mists of the moor, survivals of smuggling days and fights on the
+beach under the moon; and it always was the sea.  They might leave it
+for a moment perhaps, but they came back to it&mdash;the terror of it, the
+joy of it, the cruelty of it; the mistress that held them chained, that
+called their children and would not be denied, the god that they served.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They spoke of her softly with lowered voices and a strange reverence.
+They had learnt her moods and her dangers; they knew that she could
+caress them, and then, of a sudden, strike them down&mdash;but they loved
+her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And she had claimed Harry again.  Everything for which he had been
+longing during that past week had come to him at last; their
+friendship, their faith in an old god, and above all that sense of a
+great adventure, for the spirit of which he had so diligently been
+searching.  "Up-along" life was an affair of measured rules and things
+foreseen.  "Down-along" it was a game of unending surprises and a
+gossamer web shot with the golden light of romance.  High-falutin
+perhaps, but to Harry, as he sat before the fire with the strange dog
+and those ten wild men, words and pictures came too speedily to admit
+of a sense of the absurd.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+An old man, with a long white beard and a shaking hand, knew strange
+tales of the moor.  When the mists creep up and blot out the land, then
+the four grey stones take life and are the giants of old, and strange
+sacrifices are grimly performed.  Talse Carlyon had seen things late on
+a moonlit night with the mists swimming white and silvery-grey over the
+moor.  He had lost his way and had met a man of mighty size who had led
+him by the hand.  There had been spirits about, and at the foot of the
+grey stone a pool of blood&mdash;he had never been the same man since.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There are spirits and spirits," said the old man solemnly, "and there
+'m some good and some bad, for the proper edification of us mortals,
+and, for my part, it's not for the like of us to meddle."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He stroked his beard&mdash;a very gloomy old man with a blind eye.  Harry
+remembered that he had had a wife twenty years before, so he inquired
+about her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dead," said the old man fiercely, "dead&mdash;and, thank God, she went out
+like a candle."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He muttered this so fiercely that Harry said no more, and the white
+beard shone in the light of the fire, and his blind eye opened and shut
+like a box, and his wrinkled hand shook on his knee.  The fishing had
+been bad of late, and here again they spoke as if some personal power
+had been at work.  There were few there who had not lost some one
+during the years that they had served her, and the memory of what this
+had been and the foreshadowing of the dangerous future hung over them
+in the room.  Songs were sung, jokes were made, but they were the songs
+and laughter of men on guard, with the enemy to be encountered,
+perhaps, in the morning.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry sat in his corner of the great seat, watching the leaping of the
+flames, his hand on Newsome's shoulder, listening to the murmuring
+voices at his side.  He scarcely knew whether he were awake or
+sleeping; their laughter came to him dimly, and it seemed that he was
+alone there with only Newsome by his side and the dog sleeping at his
+feet.  The tobacco smoke hung in grey-blue wreaths above his head and
+the gold light of the two lamps shone mistily, without shape or form.
+Perhaps it was really a dream.  The old man with the white beard and
+the blind eye was sleeping, his head on his breast.  A man with a
+vacant expression was telling a tale, heavily, slowly, gazing at the
+fire.  The others were not listening&mdash;or at any rate not obviously so.
+They, too, gazed at the fire&mdash;it had, as it were, become personal and
+mesmerised the room.  Perhaps it was a dream.  He would wake and find
+himself at "The Flutes."  There would be Clare and Garrett and&mdash;Robin!
+He would put all that away now; he would forget it for a moment, at
+least.  He had failed them; they had not wanted him and had told him
+so,&mdash;but here they had known him and loved him; they had welcomed him
+back as though there had been no intervening space of years.  They at
+least had known what life was.  They had not played with it, like those
+others.  They had not surrounded themselves with barricades of
+artificiality, and glanced through distorting mirrors at their own
+exaggerated reflection; they had seen life simply, fearlessly,
+accepting their peril like men and enjoying their fate with the
+greatness of soul that simplicity had given them.  They were not like
+those others; those on the hill had invaded the sea with noisy clamour,
+had greeted her familiarly and offered her bathing-machines and
+boarding-houses; these others had reverenced her and learnt to know
+her, alone on the downs in the first grey of the dawn, or secretly,
+when the breakers had rolled in over the sand, carrying with them the
+red and gold of some gorgeous sunset.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He contrasted them in his mind&mdash;the Trojans and the Greeks.  He turned
+round a little in his seat and listened to the story: "It were a man&mdash;a
+strange man with horns and hoofs, so he said&mdash;and a merry, deceiving
+eye; but he couldn't see him clear because of the mist that hung there,
+with the moon pushing through like a candle, he said.  The man was
+laughing to himself and playing with leaves that danced at his feet
+under the wind.  It can't have been far from the town, because Joe
+heard St. Elmo's bell ringin' and he could hear the sea quite plain.
+He ..."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The voice seemed to trail off again into the distance; Harry's thoughts
+were with his future.  What was he to do?  It seemed to him that his
+crisis had come and was now facing him.  Should he stay or should he
+flee?  Why should he not escape&mdash;away into the country, where he could
+live his life without fear, where there would be no contempt, no
+hampering family traditions?  Should he stay and wait while Robin
+learnt to hate him?  At the thought his face grew white and he clenched
+his hands.  Robin ... Robin ... Robin ... it always came back to
+that&mdash;and there seemed no answer.  That dream of love between father
+and son, the dream that he had cherished for twenty years, was
+shattered, and the bubble had burst....
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"So Joe said he didn't know but he thought it was to the left and down
+through the Cove&mdash;to the old church he meant; and the man laughed and
+danced with the leaves through the mist; and once Joe thought he was
+gone, and there he was back again, laughin'."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+No, he would face it.  He would take his place as he had intended&mdash;he
+would show them of what stuff he was made&mdash;and Robin would see, at
+last.  The boy was young, it would of course take time&mdash;&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The door of the inn opened and some one came in.  The lamps flared in
+the wind, and there was a cry from the fireplace.  "Mr. Bethel!  Well,
+I'm right glad!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry started.  Bethel&mdash;that had been the name of his friend&mdash;the girl
+who had come to tea.  The new-comer was a large man, over six feet in
+height, and correspondingly broad.  His head was bare, and his hair was
+a little long and curly.  His eyes were blue and twinkled, and his face
+was pleasantly humorous and, in the mouth and chin, strong and
+determined.  He wore a grey flannel suit with a flannel collar, and he
+was smoking a pipe of great size.  Newsome, starting to his feet, went
+forward to meet him.  Bethel came to the fire and talked to them all;
+there was obviously a free companionship between them that told of long
+acquaintance.  He was introduced to Harry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've heard of you, Mr. Trojan," he said, "and have been expecting to
+meet you.  I think that we have interests in common&mdash;at least an
+affection for Cornwall."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry liked him.  He looked at him frankly between the eyes&mdash;there was
+no hesitation or disguise; there had been no barrier or division; and
+Harry was grateful.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bethel sat down by the fire, and a discussion followed about matters of
+which Harry knew nothing.  There was talk of the fishing prospects,
+which were bad; a gloom fell upon them all, and they cursed the new
+Pendragon&mdash;the race had grown too fast for them and competition was too
+keen.  But Harry noticed that they did not yet seem to have heard of
+the proposed destruction of the Cove.  Then he got up to go.  They
+asked him to come again, and he promised that he would.  Bethel rose
+too.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If you don't object, Mr. Trojan," he said, "I'll make one with you.  I
+had only looked in for a moment and had never intended to stay.  I was
+on my way back to the town."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They went out into the street together, and Harry shivered for a moment
+as the wind from the sea met them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, that's good," Bethel said; "your fires are well enough, but that
+wind is worth a bag of gold."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They walked for a little in silence, and then Harry said: "Those are a
+fine lot of men.  They know what life really is."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bethel laughed.  "I know what you feel about them.  You are glad that
+there's no change.  Twenty years has made little difference there.  It
+is twenty years, isn't it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," said Harry.  "One thinks that it is nothing until one comes
+back, and then one thinks that it's more than it really is."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, you're disappointed," Bethel said.  "I know.  Pendragon has
+become popular, and to your mind that has destroyed its beauty&mdash;or, at
+any rate, some of it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I hate it," Harry said fiercely, "all this noise and show.  Why
+couldn't they have left Pendragon alone?  I don't hate it for big
+places that are, as it were, in the line of march.  I suppose that they
+must move with the day.  That is inevitable.  But Pendragon!  Why&mdash;when
+I was a boy, it was simply a little town by the sea.  No one thought
+about it or worried about it: it was a place wonderfully quiet and
+simple.  It was too quiet for me then; I should worship it now.  But I
+have come back and it has no room for me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I haven't known it as long as you," Bethel answered, "but I confess
+that the very charm of it lies in its contrast.  It is invasion, if you
+like, but for that very reason exciting&mdash;two forces at work and a
+battle in progress."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"With no doubt as to the ultimate victory," said Harry gloomily.  "Yes,
+I see what you mean by the contrast.  But I cannot stand there and see
+them dispassionately&mdash;you see I am bound up with so much of it.  Those
+men to-night were my friends when I was a boy.  Newsome is the best man
+that I have ever known, and there is the place; I love every stone of
+it, and they would pull it down."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had left the Cove and were pressing up a steep path to the moor.
+The moon was struggling through a bank of clouds; the wind was
+whistling over their heads.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bethel suddenly stopped and turned towards Harry.  "Mr. Trojan," he
+said, "I'm going to be impulsive and perhaps imprudent.  There's
+nothing an Englishman fears so much as impulse, and he is terribly
+ashamed of imprudence.  But, after all, there is no time to waste, and
+if you think me impertinent you have only to say so, and the matter
+ends."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry laughed.  "I am delighted," he began, but the other stopped him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, wait a moment.  You don't know.  I'm afraid you'll think that I'm
+absurd&mdash;most people will tell you that I am worse.  I want you to try
+to be a friend of mine, at any rate to give me a chance.  I scarcely
+know you&mdash;you don't know me at all&mdash;but; one goes on first impressions,
+and I believe that you would understand a little better than most of
+these people here&mdash;for one thing you have gone farther and seen
+more&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was a little pause.  Harry was surprised.  Here was what he had
+been wanting&mdash;friendship; a week ago he would have seized it with both
+hands; now he was a little distrustful; a week ago it would have been
+natural, delightful; now it was unusual, even a little absurd.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I should be very glad," he said gravely.  "I&mdash;scarcely&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh," Bethel broke in, "we shall come together naturally&mdash;there's no
+fear of that.  I could see at once that you know the mysteries of this
+place just as I do.  Those others here are blind.  I've been waiting
+for some one who would understand.  But I don't want you to listen to
+those other people about me; they will tell you a good deal&mdash;and most
+of it's true.  I don't blame 'em, but I'm curiously anxious for you not
+to think with them.  It's ridiculous, I know, when I had never seen you
+before.  If you only knew how long I'd been waiting&mdash;to talk to some
+one&mdash;about&mdash;all this."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He waved his hand and they stopped.  They were standing on the moor.
+Above their head mighty grey clouds were driving like fleets before the
+wind, and the moon, a cold, lifeless thing, a moon of chiselled marble,
+appeared, and then, as though frightened at the wild flight of the
+clouds, vanished.  The sea, pearl grey, lay like mist on the horizon,
+and its voice was gentle and tired, as though it were slowly dying into
+sleep.  They were near the Four Stones&mdash;gaunt, grey, and old.  The dog
+had followed Harry from the inn and now ran, a white shadow, in front
+of him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let me tell you," Bethel said, "about myself.  You know I was born in
+London&mdash;the son of a doctor with a very considerable practice.  I
+received an excellent education, Rugby and Cambridge, and was trained
+for the law.  I was, I believe, a rather ordinary person with a rather
+more than ordinary power of concentration, and I got on.  I built up a
+business and was extremely and very conventionally happy.  I married
+and we had a little girl.  And then, one summer, we came down to
+Cornwall for our holiday.  It was St. Ives.  I remember that first
+morning as though it were yesterday.  It was grey with the sea flinging
+great breakers.  There was a smell of clover and cornflowers in the
+air, and great sheets of flaming poppies in the cornfields.  But there
+was more than that.  It was Cornwall, something magical, and that
+strange sense of old history and customs that you get nowhere else in
+quite the same way.  Ah! but why analyse it?&mdash;you know as well as I do
+what I mean.  A new man was born in me that day.  I had been sociable
+and fond of little quite ordinary pleasures that came my way, now I
+wanted to be alone.  Their conversation worried me; it seemed to be
+pointless and concerned with things that did not matter at all.  I had
+done things like other men&mdash;now it was all to no purpose.  I used to
+lie for hours on the cliffs watching the sea.  I was often out all day,
+and I met all sorts of people, tramps, wasters, vagabonds, and they
+seemed the only people worth talking to.  I met some strange fellows
+but excellent company&mdash;and they knew, all of them, the things that I
+knew; they had been out all night and seen the moon and the stars
+change and the first light of the dawn, and the little breeze that
+comes in those early hours from the sea, bringing the winds of other
+countries with it.  And they were merry, they had a philosophy&mdash;they
+knew Cornwall and believed in her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well&mdash;the holiday came to an end, and I had to go back!  London.  My
+God!  After that I struggled&mdash;I went to my work every day with the
+sound of that sea in my ears and the vision of those moors always there
+with me.  And the freedom!  If you have tasted that once, if you have
+ever got really close so that you can hear strange voices and see
+beauties of which you had never dreamt, well, you will never get back
+to your old routine again.  I don't care how strong you are&mdash;you can't
+do it, man.  Once she's got hold of you, nothing counts.  That was
+eighteen years ago.  I kept my work for a year, but it was killing me.
+I got ill&mdash;I nearly died; once I ran away at night and tried to get to
+the sea.  But I came back&mdash;there were my wife and girl.  We had a
+little money, and I gave it all up and we came to live down here.  I
+have done nothing since; rather shameful, isn't it, for a strong man?
+They have thought that here; they think that I am a waster&mdash;by their
+lights I am.  But the things I have learnt!  I didn't know what living
+was until I came here!  I knew nothing, I did nothing, I was a dead
+man.  What do I care for their thoughts of me!  They are in the dark!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had spoken eagerly, almost breathlessly.  He was defending his
+position, and Harry knew that he had been waiting for years to say
+these things to some one of his own kind who would understand.  And he
+understood only too well!  Had he not himself that very evening been
+tempted to escape, to flee his duty?  He had resisted, but the
+temptation had been very strong&mdash;that very voice of Cornwall of which
+Bethel had spoken&mdash;and if it were to return he did not know what answer
+he might give.  But he was not thinking of Bethel; his thoughts were
+with the wife and daughter.  That poor pathetic little woman&mdash;and the
+girl&mdash;&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And your wife and daughter?" he said.  "What of them?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They are happy," Bethel said eagerly.  "They are indeed.  I don't see
+them very often, but they have their own interests&mdash;and friends.  My
+wife and I never had very much in common&mdash;Ah! you're going to scold,"
+he said, laughing, "and say just what all these other horrid people
+say.  But I know.  I grant it you all.  I'm a waster&mdash;through and
+through; it's damnably selfish&mdash;worst of all, in this energetic and
+pushing age, it's idle.  Oh!  I know and I'm sorry&mdash;but, do you know,
+I'm not ashamed.  I can't see it seriously.  I wouldn't harm a fly.
+Why can't they let me alone?  At least I am happy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had reached the outskirts of the town by this time and Bethel
+stopped before a little dark house with red shutters and a tiny strip
+of garden.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Here we are!" said he.  "This is my place.  Come in and smoke!  It
+must be past your dinner hour up at 'The Flutes.'  Come and have
+something with me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry laughed.  "They have already ceased wondering at my erratic
+habits," he said.  "New Zealand is a bad place for method."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He followed Bethel in.  It was a tiny hall, and on entering he stumbled
+over an umbrella-stand that lounged forward in a rickety position.
+Bethel apologised.  "We're in a bit of a mess," he said.  "In fact, to
+tell the truth, we always are!"  He hung his coat in the hall and led
+the way into the dining-room.  Mrs. Bethel and her daughter came
+forward.  The little woman was amazing in a dress of bright red silk
+and an absurd little yellow lace cap.  Only half the table was laid;
+for the rest a shabby green cloth, spotted with ink, formed a
+background for an incoherent litter of papers and needlework.  The
+walls were lined with books and there were some piled on the floor.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A cold shoulder of mutton, baked potatoes in their skins, a melancholy
+glass dish containing celery, and a salad bowl startlingly empty, lay
+waiting on the table.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Anne," said Bethel, "I've brought a guest&mdash;up with the family port and
+let's be festive."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His great body seemed to fill the room, and he brought with him the
+breath of the sea and the wind.  He began to carve the mutton like
+Siegfried making battle with Fafner, and indeed again and again during
+the evening he reminded Harry of Siegfried's impetuous humour and
+rejoicing animal spirits.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Bethel was delighted.  Her little eyes twinkled with excitement,
+her yellow cap was pushed awry, and her hands trembled with pleasure.
+It was obvious that a visitor was an unusual event.  Miss Bethel had
+said very little, but she had given Harry that same smile that he had
+seen before.  She busied herself now with the salad, and he watched her
+white fingers shine under the lamplight and the white curve of her neck
+as she bent over the bowl.  She was dressed in some dark stuff&mdash;quite
+simple and unassuming, but he thought that he had never seen anything
+so beautiful.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He said very little, but he was quietly happy.  Bethel did not talk
+very much; he was eating furiously&mdash;not greedily, but with great
+pleasure and satisfaction.  Mrs. Bethel talked continuously.  Her eyes
+shone and her cap bobbed on her head like a live thing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I said, Mr. Trojan, after our meeting the other day, that you would be
+a friend.  I said so to Mary coming back.  I felt sure that first day.
+It is so nice to have some one new in Pendragon&mdash;one gets used, you
+know, to the same faces and tired of them.  In my old home, Penlicott
+in Surrey, near Marlwood Beeches&mdash;you change at Grayling Junction&mdash;or
+you used to; I think you go straight through now.  But <I>there</I> you know
+we knew everybody.  You really couldn't help it.  There was really only
+the Vicar and the Doctor, and he was so old.  Of course there were the
+Draytons; you must have heard of Mr. Herbert Drayton&mdash;he paints
+things&mdash;I forget quite what, but I know he's good.  They all lived
+there&mdash;such a lot of them and most peculiar in their habits; but one
+gets used to anything.  They all lived together for some time, about
+fifteen there were.  Mother and I dined there once or twice, and they
+had the funniest dining-room with pictures of Job all round the room
+that were most queer and rather disagreeable; and they all liked
+different things to drink, so they each had a bottle&mdash;of
+something&mdash;separately.  It looked quite funny to see the fifteen
+bottles, and then 'Job' on the wall, you know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he really hadn't paid very much attention to her.  He had been
+thinking and wondering.  How was it that a man like Bethel had married
+such a wife?  He supposed that things had been different twenty years
+ago, with them as with him.  It was strange to think of the difference
+that twenty years could make.  She had been, perhaps, a little pretty,
+dainty thing then&mdash;the style of girl that a strong man like Bethel
+would fall in love with.  Then he thought of Miss Bethel&mdash;what was her
+life with a mother like that and a father who never thought about her
+at all?  She must, he thought, be lonely.  He almost hoped that she
+was.  It gave them kinship, because he was lonely too.  The
+conversation was not very animated; Mrs. Bethel was suddenly
+silent&mdash;she seemed to have collapsed with the effort, and sat huddled
+up in her chair, with her hands in her lap.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He realised that he had said nothing to Miss Bethel, and he turned to
+her.  "You know London?" he said.  He wondered whether she longed for
+it sometimes&mdash;its excitement and life.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh yes," she said quickly; "we were there, you know, a long while ago,
+and I've been up once or twice since.  But it makes one feel so
+dreadfully small, as if one simply didn't count, and no woman likes
+that."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Pendragon makes one feel smaller," Harry said.  "When one is of no
+account even in a small place, then one is small indeed."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had not intended to speak bitterly, but she had caught the sound of
+it in his voice and she was suddenly sorry for him.  She had been a
+little afraid of him before&mdash;even on that terrible afternoon at "The
+Flutes"; but now she saw that he was disappointed&mdash;he had expected
+something and it had failed him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She said nothing then, and the meal came to an end.  Bethel dragged
+Harry into his study to see the books.  There was the same untidiness
+here.  The table was littered with papers and pens, tobacco jars,
+numerous pipes, some photographs.  From the floor to the ceiling were
+books&mdash;rows on rows&mdash;flung apparently into the shelves with no order or
+method.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm no good as far as books go," said Harry, laughing.  "There never
+was such a heathen.  There have always been other things to do, and I
+must confess it is a mystery to me how men get time to read at all.  If
+I do get time I'm generally done up, and a novel's the only thing I'm
+fit for."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, then, you don't know the book craze," Bethel Said.  "It's worse
+than drink.  I've seen it absolutely ruin a man.  You can't stop&mdash;if
+you see a book you must get it, whether you really want it or no.  You
+go on buying and buying and buying.  You get far more than you can ever
+read.  But you're a miser and you hate even lending them.  You sit in
+your room and count the covers, and you're no fit company for man or
+beast."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry looked at him&mdash;"You've known it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh yes!  I've known it.  I'm a bit better now&mdash;I'm out such a lot.
+But even now there's a great deal here that I've never read, and I add
+to it continually.  The worst of it is," he said, laughing, "that we
+can't afford it.  It's very hard on Mary and the wife, but I'm a rotten
+loafer, and that's the end of it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He said it so gaily and with so little sense of responsibility that you
+couldn't possibly think that it weighed on him.  But he looked such a
+boy, standing there with his hands in his pockets and that
+half-penitent, half-humorous look in his eyes, that you couldn't be
+angry.  Harry laughed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Upon my word, you're amazing!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! you'll get sick of me.  It's all so selfish and slack, I know.
+But I struggled once&mdash;I'm in the grip now."  He talked about Borrow and
+displayed a little grey-bound "Walden" with pride.  He spoke of Richard
+Jefferies with an intimate affection as though he had known the man.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He gave Harry some of his enthusiasm, and he lent him "Lavengro."  He
+described it and Harry compared mentally Isobel Berners with Mary
+Bethel.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then they went up to the little drawing-room&mdash;an ugly room, but
+redeemed by a great window overlooking the sea, and a large photograph
+of Mary on the mantelpiece.  Under the light of the lamp the silver
+frame glittered and sparkled.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He sat by the window and talked to her, and again he had that same
+curious sense of having known her before: he spoke of it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I expect it's in another existence then," she said; "as I've never
+been into New Zealand and you've never been out of it&mdash;at least, since
+I've been born.  But, of course, I've talked about you to Robin.  We
+speculated, you know.  We hadn't any photographs much to help us, and
+it was quite a good game."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah!  Robin!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I want to speak to you about him," she said, turning round to him.
+"You won't think me interfering, will you? but I've meant to speak ever
+since the other day.  I was afraid that, perhaps&mdash;don't think it
+dreadfully rude of me&mdash;you hadn't quite understood Robin.  He's at a
+difficult age, you know, and there are a lot of things about him that
+are quite absurd.  And I have been afraid that you might take those
+absurdities for the real things and fancy that that was all that was
+there.  Cambridge&mdash;and other things&mdash;have made him think that a certain
+sort of attitude is essential if you're to get on.  I don't think he
+even sincerely believes in it.  But they have taught him that he must,
+at least, seem to believe.  The other things are there all right, but
+he hides them&mdash;he is almost ashamed of any one suspecting their
+existence."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thank you!" Harry said quietly.  "It is very kind of you and I'm
+deeply grateful.  It's quite true that Robin and I haven't seemed to
+hit it off properly.  I expect that it is my fault.  I have tried to
+see his point of view and have the same interests, but every effort
+that I've made has seemed to make things worse.  He distrusts me, I
+think, and&mdash;well&mdash;of course, that hurts.  All the things in which I had
+hoped we would share have no interest for him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't you think, perhaps," she said, "that you've been a little too
+anxious&mdash;perhaps, a little too affectionate?  I am speaking like this
+because I care for Robin so much.  We have been such good friends for
+years now, and I think he has let me see a side of him that he has
+hidden from most people.  He is curiously sensitive, and really, I
+think, very shy; and most of all, he has a perfect horror of being
+absurd.  That is what I meant about your being affectionate.  He would
+think, perhaps, that the rest were laughing at him.  It's as if you
+were dragging something that was very sacred and precious out into the
+light before all those others.  Boys are like that; they are terrified
+lest any one should know what good there is in them&mdash;it isn't quite
+good form."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They were silent for some time.  Harry was throwing her words like a
+searchlight on the events of the past week, and they revealed much that
+had been very dark and confused.  But he was thinking of her.  Their
+acquaintance seemed to have grown into intimacy already.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I can't thank you enough," he said again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is so nice of you," she said laughing, "not to have thought it
+presumptuous of me.  But Robin is a very good friend of mine.  Of
+course you will find out what a sterling fellow he is&mdash;under all that
+superficiality.  He is one of my best friends here!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He got up to go.  As he held out his hand, he said: "I will tell you
+frankly, Miss Bethel, that Pendragon hasn't received me with open arms.
+I don't know why it should&mdash;and twenty years in New Zealand knocks the
+polish off.  But it has been delightful this evening&mdash;more than you
+know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It has been nice for us too," Mary answered.  "I don't know that
+Pendragon is exactly thronging our door night and day&mdash;and a new friend
+is worth having.  You see I've claimed you as a friend because you
+listened so patiently to my sermon&mdash;that's a sure test."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had spoken lightly but he had felt the bitterness in her voice.
+Life was hard for her too, then?  He knew that he was glad.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I shall come back," he said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Please," she answered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He said good-bye to Mrs. Bethel and she pressed his hand very warmly.
+"You are very kind to take pity on us," she said, ogling him under the
+gas in the hall; "I hope you will come often."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bethel said very little.  He walked with him to the gate and laughed.
+"We're absurd, aren't we, Trojan?" he said.  "But don't neglect us
+altogether.  Even absurdity is refreshing sometimes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Harry went up the hill with a happier heart than he had had since
+he entered Pendragon.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That promise of adventure had been fulfilled.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap06"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER VI
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Randal was only at "The Flutes" two days, but he effected a good deal
+in that time.  He did nothing very active&mdash;called on Mrs. le Terry and
+rode over the Downs once with Robin&mdash;but he managed to leave a flock of
+very active impressions behind him.  That, as he knew well, was his
+strong point.  He could not be with you a day without vaguely, almost
+indistinctly, but nevertheless quite certainly, influencing your
+opinions.  He never said anything very definite, and, on looking back,
+you could never assert that he had positively taken any one point of
+view; but he had left, as it were, atmosphere&mdash;an assurance that this
+was the really right thing to do, this the proper attitude for correct
+breeding to adopt.  It was always, with him, a case of correct
+breeding, and that was why the Trojans liked him so very much.
+"Randal," as Clare said, "knew so precisely who were sheep and who were
+goats, and he showed you the difference so clearly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Whenever he came to stay some former acquaintances were dropped as
+being, perhaps, not quite the right people.  He never said that any one
+was not the right person, that would be bad breeding, but you realised,
+of your own accord, that they were not quite right.  That was why the
+impression was so strong&mdash;it seemed to come from yourself; your eyes
+were suddenly opened and you wondered that you hadn't seen it before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He said very little of Trojan people this time; the main result of his
+visit was its effect on Harry's position.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Had you been a stranger you would have noticed nothing; the motto of
+the gentleman of good breeding is, "The end and aim of all true
+opinions is the concealing of them from the wrong person."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Randal was exceedingly polite to Harry, so polite that Robin and Clare
+knew immediately that he disapproved, but Harry was pleased.  Randal
+spoke warmly to Robin.  "You are lucky to have such a father, Bob; it's
+what we all want, you and I especially, a little fresh air let into our
+Cambridge dust and confusion; it's most refreshing to find some one who
+cares nothing about all those things that have seemed to us, quite
+erroneously probably, so valuable.  You should copy him, Robin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Robin made no reply.  He understood perfectly.  There had been some
+qualities in his father that he had, deep down in his nature, admired.
+He had seemed to be without doubt a man on whom one could rely in a
+tight corner, and in spite of himself he had liked his father's
+frankness.  It was unusual.  There was always another meaning in
+everything that Robin's friends said, but there was never any doubt
+about Harry.  He missed the fine shades, of course, and was lamentably
+lacking in discrimination, but you did know where you were.  Robin had,
+almost reluctantly, admired this before the coming of Randal.  But now
+there could be no question.  When Randal was there you had displayed
+before you the complete art of successful allusion.  Nothing was ever
+directly stated, but everything was hinted, and you were compelled to
+believe that this really was the perfection of good breeding.  Robin
+admired Randal exceedingly.  He took his dicta very seriously and
+accepted his criticism.  The judgment of his father completed the
+impression that he had begun to receive.  He was impossible.  Randal
+was going by the 10.45, and he would walk to the station.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A whiff of fresh air, Robin, is absolutely essential.  You must walk
+down with me.  I hate to go, Miss Trojan."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Very soon to return, I hope, Mr. Randal," answered Clare.  She liked
+him, and thought him an excellent influence for Robin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thank you&mdash;it's very kind&mdash;but one's busy, you know.  It's been hard
+enough to snatch these few days.  Besides, Robin isn't alone in the
+same way now.  He has his father."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare made no reply, but her silence was eloquent.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm sorry for him, Miss Trojan," he said.  "He is, I'm afraid, a
+little out of it.  Twenty years, you know, is a long time."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare smiled.  "He is unchanged," she said.  "What he was as a boy, he
+is now."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He is fortunate," Randal said gravely.  "For most of us experience has
+a jostling series of shocks ready.  Life hurts."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He said good-bye with that air of courtly melancholy that Clare admired
+so much.  He shook Harry warmly by the hand and expressed a hope of
+another meeting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I should be delighted," Harry said.  "What sort of time am I likely to
+catch you in town?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Randal, alarmed at this serious acceptance of an entirely ironical
+proposal, was immediately vague and gave no definite promise.  Harry
+watched them pass down the drive, then he turned back slowly into the
+house.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was one of those blue and gold days that are only to be realised
+perfectly in Cornwall&mdash;blue of the sky and the sea, gold on the roofs
+and the rich background of red and brown in the autumn-tinted trees,
+whilst the deep green of the lawns in front of the house seemed to hold
+both blues and golds in its lights and shadows.  The air was perfectly
+still and the smoke from a distant bonfire hung in strange wreaths of
+grey-blue in the light against the trees, as though carved delicately
+in marble.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Randal discussed his prospects.  He spoke, as he invariably did with
+regard to his past and future, airily and yet impressively: "I don't
+like to make myself too cheap," he said.  "There are things any sort of
+fellow can do, and I must say that I shrink from taking bread out of
+the mouths of some of them.  But of course there are things that one
+<I>must</I> do&mdash;where special knowledge is wanted&mdash;not that I'm any good,
+you know, but I've had chances.  Besides, one must work slowly.
+Style's the thing&mdash;Flaubert and Pater for ever&mdash;the doctrine of the one
+word."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin looked at him with admiration.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By Jove, Randal, I wish I could write; I sometimes feel quite&mdash;well,
+it sounds silly&mdash;but inspired, you know&mdash;as if one saw things quite
+differently.  It was very like that in Germany once or twice."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, we're all like that at times," Randal spoke encouragingly.  "But
+don't you trust it&mdash;an <I>ignis fatuus</I> if ever there was one.  That is
+why we have bank clerks at Peckham and governesses in Bloomsbury
+writing their reminiscences.  It's those moments of inspiration that
+are responsible for all our over-crowded literature."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had chosen the path over the fields to the station, and suddenly
+at the bend of the hill the sea sprang before them, a curving mirror
+that reflected the blue of the sky and was clouded mistily with the
+gold of the sun.  That sudden springing forward of the sea was always
+very wonderful, even when it had been seen again and again, and Robin
+stopped and shaded his eyes with his hand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's fine, isn't it, Randal?" he said.  "One gets fond of the place."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was a little ashamed to have betrayed such feeling and spoke
+apologetically.  He went on hurriedly.  "There was an old chap in
+Germany&mdash;at Worms&mdash;who was most awfully interesting.  He kept a little
+bookshop, and I used to go down and talk to him, and he said once that
+the sea was the most beautiful dream that the world contained, but you
+must never get too near or the dream broke, and from that moment you
+had no peace."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Randal looked at Robin anxiously.  "I say, old chap, this place is
+getting on your nerves; always being here is bad for you.  Why don't
+you come up to town or go abroad?  You're seedy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I'm all right," Robin said, rather irritably.  "Only one wonders
+sometimes if&mdash;" he broke off suddenly.  "I'm a bit worried about
+something," he said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was immediately aware that he had said nothing to Randal about the
+Feverel affair and he wondered why.  Randal would have been the natural
+person to talk to about it; his advice would have been worth having.
+But Robin felt vaguely that it would be better not.  For some strange
+reason, as yet unanalysed, he scarcely trusted him as he had done in
+the old days.  He was still wondering why, when they arrived at the
+station.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They said good-bye affectionately&mdash;rather more affectionately than
+usual.  There was a little sense of strain, and Robin felt relieved
+when the train had gone.  As he hurried from the platform he puzzled
+over it.  He could hold no clue, but he knew that their friendship had
+changed a little.  He was sorry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he turned down the station road he decided that life was becoming
+very complicated.  There was first his father; that oughtn't in the
+nature of things to have complicated matters at all&mdash;but it was
+complicated, because there was no knowing what a man like that would
+do.  He might let the family down so badly; it was almost like having
+gunpowder in your cellar.  Randal had thought him absurd.  Robin saw
+that clearly, and Randal's opinion was that of all truly sensible
+people.  But, after all, the real complication was the Feverel affair.
+It was now nearly ten days since that terrible evening and nothing had
+happened.  Robin wasn't sure what <I>could</I> have happened, but he had
+expected something.  He had waited for a note; she would most assuredly
+write and her letter would serve as a hint, he would know how to act;
+but there had been no sign.  On the day following the interview he had
+felt, for the most part, relief.  He was suddenly aware of the burden
+that the affair had been, he was a free man; but with this there had
+been compunction.  He had acted like a brute; he was surprised that he
+could have been so hard, and he was a little ashamed of meeting the
+public gaze.  If people only realised, he thought, what a cad he was,
+they would assuredly have nothing to do with him.  As the days passed,
+this feeling increased and he was extremely uncomfortable.  He had
+never before doubted that he was a very decent fellow&mdash;nothing,
+perhaps, exceptional in any way, but, judged by every standard, he
+passed muster.  Now he wasn't so sure, he had done something that he
+would have entirely condemned in another man, and this showed him
+plainly and most painfully the importance that he placed on the other
+man's opinion.  He was beginning to grow his crop of ideas and he was
+already afraid of the probable harvest.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That his affection for Dahlia was dead there could be no question, but
+that it was buried, either for himself or the public, was, most
+unfortunately, not the case.  He was afraid of discovery for the first
+time in his life, and it was unpleasant.  Dahlia herself would be
+quiet; at least, he was almost sure, although her outbreak the other
+evening had surprised him.  But he was afraid of Mrs. Feverel.  He felt
+now that she had never liked him; he saw her as some grim dragon
+waiting for his inevitable surrender.  He did not know what she would
+do; he was beginning to realise his inexperience, but he knew that she
+would never allow the affair to pass quietly away.  To do him justice,
+it was not so much the fear of personal exposure that frightened him;
+that, of course, would be unpleasant&mdash;he would have to face the
+derision of his enemies and the contempt of those people whom formerly
+he had himself despised.  But it was not personal contempt, it was the
+disgrace to the family; the house was suddenly threatened on two
+sides&mdash;his father, the Feverels&mdash;and he was frightened.  He saw his
+name in the papers; the Trojan name dragged through the mud because of
+his own folly&mdash;Oh! it must be stopped at all costs.  But the
+uncertainty of it was worrying him.  Ten days had passed and nothing
+was done.  Ten days, and he had been able to speak of it to no one; it
+had haunted him all day and had spoiled his sleep; first, because he
+had done something of which he was ashamed, and secondly, because he
+was afraid that people might know.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There were the letters.  He remembered some of the sentences now and
+bit his lip.  How could he have been such a fool?  She must give them
+back&mdash;of course she would; but there was Mrs. Feverel.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The uncertainty was torturing him&mdash;he must find out how matters were,
+and suddenly, on the inspiration of the moment, he decided to go and
+see Dahlia at once.  Things could not be worse, and at least the
+uncertainty would be ended.  The golden day irritated him, and he found
+the dark gloom of the Feverels' street a relief.  A man was playing an
+organ at the corner, and three dirty, tattered children were dancing
+noisily in the middle of the road.  He watched them for a moment before
+ringing the bell, and wondered how they could seem so unconcerned, and
+he thought them abandoned.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He found Dahlia alone in the gaudy drawing-room.  She gave a little cry
+when she saw who it was, and her cheeks flushed red, and then the
+colour faded.  He noticed that she was looking ill and rather untidy.
+There were dark lines under her eyes and her mouth was drawn.  There
+was an awkward pause; he had sat down with his hat in his hand and he
+was painfully ill at ease.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I knew you would come back, Robin," she began at last.  "Only you have
+been a long time&mdash;ten days.  I have never gone out, because I was
+afraid that I would miss you.  But I knew that you would be sorry after
+the other night, because you know, dear, you hurt me terribly, and for
+a time I really thought you meant it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But I do mean it," Robin broke in.  "I did and I do.  I'm sorry,
+Dahlia, for having hurt you, but I thought that you would see it as I
+do&mdash;that it must, I mean, stop.  I had hoped that you would understand."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she came over and stood by him, smiling rather timidly.  "I don't
+want to start it all over again," she said.  "It was silly of me to
+have made such a fuss the other night.  I have been thinking all these
+ten days, and it has been my fault all along.  I have bothered you by
+coming here and interfering when I wasn't really wanted.  Mother and I
+will go away again and then you shall come and stay, and we shall be
+all alone&mdash;like we were at Cambridge.  I have learnt a good deal during
+these last few days, and if you will only be patient with me I will try
+very hard to improve."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She stood by his chair and laid her hand on his arm.  He would have
+thrilled at her touch six months before&mdash;now he was merely impatient.
+It was so annoying that the affair should have to be reopened when they
+had decided it finally the other night.  He felt again the blind,
+unreasoning fear of exposure.  He had never before doubted his bravery,
+but there had never been any question of attack&mdash;the House had been, it
+seemed, founded on a rock, he had never doubted its stability before.
+Now, with all the cruelty of a man who was afraid for the first time,
+he had no mercy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is over, Dahlia&mdash;there is no other possibility.  We had both made a
+mistake; I am sorry and regret extremely if I had led you to think that
+it could ever have been otherwise.  I see it more clearly than I saw it
+ten days ago&mdash;quite plainly now&mdash;and there's no purpose served in
+keeping the matter open; here's an end.  We will both forget.  Heroics
+are no good; after all, we are man and woman&mdash;it's better to leave it
+at that and accept the future quietly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He spoke coldly and calmly, indeed he was surprised that he could face
+it like that, but his one thought was for peace, to put this spectre
+that had haunted him these ten days behind him and watch the world
+again with a straight gaze&mdash;he must have no secrets.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had moved away and stood by the fireplace, looking straight before
+her.  She was holding herself together with a terrible effort; she must
+quiet her brain and beat back her thoughts.  If she thought for a
+moment she would break down, and during these ten days she had been
+schooling herself to face whatever might come&mdash;shame, exposure,
+anything&mdash;she would not cry and beg for pity as she had done before.
+But it was the end, the end, the end!  The end of so much that had
+given her a new soul during the last few months.  She must go back to
+those dreary years that had had no meaning in them, all those
+purposeless grey days that had stretched in endless succession on to a
+dismal future in which there shone no sun.  Oh! he couldn't know what
+it had all meant to her&mdash;it could be flung aside by him without regret.
+For him it was a foolish memory, for her it was death.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The tears were coming, her lips were quivering, but she clenched her
+hands until the nails dug into the flesh.  The sun poured in a great
+flood of colour through the window, and meanwhile her heart was broken.
+She had read of it often enough and had laughed&mdash;she had not known that
+it meant that terrible dull throbbing pain and no joy or hope or light
+anywhere.  But she spoke to him quietly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I had thought that you were braver, Robin.  That you had cared enough
+not to mind what they said.  You are right: it has all been a mistake."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," he said doggedly, without looking at her.  "We've been foolish.
+I hadn't thought enough about others.  You see after all one owes
+something to one's people.  It would never do, Dahlia, it wouldn't
+really.  You'd never like it either&mdash;you see we're different.  At
+Cambridge one couldn't see it so clearly, but here&mdash;well, there are
+things one owes to one's people, tradition, and, oh! lots of things!
+You have got your customs, we have ours&mdash;it doesn't do to mix."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He hadn't meant to put it so clearly.  He scarcely realised what he had
+said because he was not thinking of her at all; it was only that one
+thing that he saw in front of him, how to get out, away, clear of the
+whole entanglement, where there was no question of suspicion and
+possible revelation of secrets.  He was not thinking of her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the cruelty of it, the naked, unhesitating truth of it, stung her
+as nothing had ever hurt her before&mdash;it was as though he had struck her
+in the face.  She was not good enough, she was not fit.  He had said it
+before, but then he had been angry.  She had not believed it; but now
+he was speaking calmly, coldly&mdash;she was not good enough!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And in a moment her idol had tumbled to the ground&mdash;her god was lying
+pitifully in the dust, and all the Creed that she had learnt so
+patiently and faithfully had crumbled into nothing.  Her despair
+seemed, for the moment, to have gone; she only felt burning
+contempt&mdash;contempt for him, that he could seem so small&mdash;contempt for
+herself, that she could have worshipped at such altars.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She turned round and looked at him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is rather unfair.  You say that I am not your equal socially.
+Well, we will leave it at that&mdash;you are quite right&mdash;it is over."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He lowered his eyes before her steady gaze.  At last he was ashamed; he
+had not meant to put it brutally.  He had behaved like a cad and he
+knew it.  Her white face, her hands clenched tightly at her side, the
+brave lift of her head as she faced him, moved him as her tears and
+emotions had never done.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He sprang up and stood by her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dahlia, I've been a brute, a cad&mdash;I didn't know what I had said&mdash;I
+didn't mean it like that, as you thought.  Only I've been so worried,
+I've not known where to turn and&mdash;oh, don't you see, I'm so young.  I
+get driven, I can't stand up against them all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Why, he was nearly crying.  The position was suddenly reversed, and she
+could almost have laughed at the change.  He was looking at her
+piteously, like a boy convicted of orchard-robbing&mdash;and she had loved
+him, worshipped him!  Five minutes ago his helplessness would have
+stirred her, she would have wanted to take him and protect him and
+comfort him; but now all that was past&mdash;she felt only contempt and
+outraged pride: her eyes were hard and her hands unclenched.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is no good, Robin.  You were quite right.  There is an end of
+everything.  It was a mistake for both of us, and perhaps it is as well
+that we should know it now.  It will spare us later."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So that was the end.  He felt little triumph or satisfaction; he was
+only ashamed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He turned to go without a word.  Then he remembered&mdash;"There are the
+letters?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah! you must let me keep them&mdash;for a memory."  She was not looking at
+him, but out of the window on to the street.  A cab was slowly crawling
+in the distance&mdash;she could see the end of the driver's whip as he
+flicked at his horses.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You can't&mdash;you don't mean&mdash;&mdash;?"  Robin turned back to her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I mean nothing&mdash;only I am&mdash;tired.  You had better go.  We will write
+if there is anything more."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Look here!"  Robin was trembling from head to foot.  "You must let me
+have them back.  It's serious&mdash;more than you know.  People might see
+them and&mdash;my God! you would ruin me!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was speaking melodramatically, and he looked melodramatic and very
+ridiculous.  He was crushing his bowler in his hands.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No.  I will keep them!"  She spoke slowly and quite calmly, as though
+she had thought it all out before.  "They are valuable.  Now you must
+go.  This has been silly enough&mdash;Good-bye."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She turned to the window and he was dismissed.  His pride came to the
+rescue; he would not let her see that he cared, so he went&mdash;without
+another word.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She stood in the same position, and watched him go down the street.  He
+was walking quickly and at the same time a little furtively, as though
+he was afraid of meeting acquaintances.  She turned away from the
+window, and then, suddenly, knelt on the floor with her head in her
+hands.  She sobbed miserably, hopelessly, with her hands pressed
+against her face.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And Mrs. Feverel found her kneeling there in the sunlight an hour later.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dahlia," she said softly, "Dahlia!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The girl looked up.  "He has gone, mother," she said.  "And he is never
+coming back.  I sent him away."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And Mrs. Feverel said nothing.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap07"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER VII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+There were times when Harry felt curiously, impressively, the age of
+the house.  It was not all of it old, it had been added to from time to
+time by successive Trojans; but there had, from the earliest days, been
+a stronghold on the hill overlooking the sea and keeping guard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had had a wonderful pride in it on his return, but now he began to
+feel as though he had no right in it.  Surely if any one had a right to
+such a heritage it was he, but they had isolated him and told him that
+he had no place there.  The gardens, the corners and battlements of the
+house, the great cliff falling sheer to the sea, had had no welcome for
+him, and when he had claimed his succession they had refused him.  He
+was beginning to give the stocks and stones of the House a personal
+existence.  Sometimes at night, when the moon gave the place grey
+shadows and white lights, or in the early morning when the first birds
+were crying in the trees and the sea was slowly taking colour from the
+rising sun, in the perfect stillness and beauty of those hours the
+house had seemed to speak to him with a new voice.  He imagined,
+fantastically at times, that the white statues in the garden watched
+him with grave eyes, wondering what place he would take in the
+chronicles of the House.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was Sunday afternoon, and he was alone in the library.  That was a
+room that had always appealed to him, with its dark red walls covered
+from floor to ceiling with books, its wide stone fireplace, its soft,
+heavy carpets, its wonderfully comfortable armchairs.  It seemed to him
+the very perfection of that spirit of orderly comfort and luxurious
+simplicity for which he had so earnestly longed in New Zealand.  He sat
+in that room for hours, alone, thinking, wondering, puzzling, devising
+new plans for Robin's surrender and rejecting them as soon as they were
+formed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was sitting by the fire now, hearing the coals click as they fell
+into the golden furnace that awaited them.  He was comparing the
+incidents of the morning with those of the preceding Sunday, and he
+knew that things were approaching a crisis.  Clare had scarcely spoken
+to him for three days.  Garrett and Robin had not said a word beyond a
+casual good-morning.  They were ignoring him, continuing their daily
+life as though he did not exist at all.  He remembered that he had felt
+his welcome a fortnight before a little cold&mdash;it seemed rapturous
+compared with the present state of things.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had driven to church that morning in state.  No one had exchanged
+a word during the whole drive.  Clare had sat quietly, in solemn
+magnificence, without moving an eyelid.  They had moved from the
+carriage to the church in majestic procession, watched by an admiring
+cluster of townspeople.  He had liked Clare's fine bearing and Robin's
+carriage; there was no doubt that they supported family traditions
+worthily, but he felt that, in the eyes of the world, he scarcely
+counted at all.  It was a cold and over-decorated church, with an air
+of wealth and lack of all warm emotions that was exactly characteristic
+of its congregation.  Harry thought that he had never seen a gathering
+of more unresponsive people.  An excellent choir sang Stainer in B flat
+with perfect precision and fitting respect, and the hymns and psalms
+were murmured with proper decorum.  The clergyman who had come to tea
+on the day after Harry's arrival preached a carefully calculated and
+excellently worded sermon.  Although his text was the publican's "Lord,
+be merciful to me, a sinner," it was evident that his address was
+tinged with the Pharisee's self-congratulations.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A little gathering was formed in the porch after the service, and Mrs.
+le Terry, magnificent in green silk and an enormous hat, was the only
+person who took any interest in Harry, and she was looking over his
+head during the conversation in order, apparently, to fix the attention
+of some gentleman moving in the opposite direction.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At lunch Harry had made a determined effort towards cheerfulness.  He
+had learnt that heartiness was bad manners and effusion a crime, so he
+was quiet and restrained.  But his efforts failed miserably; Robin
+seemed worried and his thoughts were evidently far away, Clare was
+occupied with the impertinence of some stranger who had thrust himself
+into the Trojan pew at the last moment, and Garrett was repeating
+complacently a story that he had heard at the Club tending to prove the
+unsanitary condition of the lower classes in general and the
+inhabitants of the Cove in particular.  After lunch they had left him
+alone; he had not dared to petition Robin for a walk, so, sick at heart
+and miserably lonely, he had wandered disconsolately into the library.
+He had taken from one of the shelves the volume T-U of <I>The Dictionary
+of National Biography</I>, and had amused himself by searching for the
+names of heroes in Trojan annals.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was only one who really mattered&mdash;a certain Humphrey Trojan,
+1718-1771; a man apparently of poor circumstances and quite a distant
+cousin of the main branch, one who had been in all probability despised
+by the Sir Henry Trojan of that time.  Nevertheless he had been a
+person of some account in history and had, from the towers of the
+House, watched the sea and the stars to some purpose.  He had been
+admitted, Harry imagined, into the sacred precincts after his
+researches had made him a person of national importance, and it was
+amusing to picture Sir Henry's pride transformed into a rather
+obsequious familiarity when "My cousin, Humphrey, had been honoured by
+an interview with his Majesty and had received an Order at the royal
+hand"&mdash;amusing, yes, but not greatly to the glory of Sir Henry.  Harry
+liked to picture Humphrey in his days of difficulty&mdash;sturdy,
+persevering, confident in his own ability, oblivious of the cuts dealt
+him by his cousin.  Time would show.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He let the book fall and gazed at the fire, thinking.  After all, he
+was a poor creature.  He had none of that perseverance and belief in
+his own ultimate success, and it was better, perhaps, to get right out
+of it, to throw up the sponge, to turn tail, and again there floated
+before him that wonderful dream of liberty and the road&mdash;of a
+relationship with the world at large, and no constraint of family
+dignity and absurd grades of respectability.  Off with the harness; he
+had worn it for a fortnight and he could bear it no longer.  Bethel was
+right; he would follow the same path and find his soul by losing it in
+the eyes of the world.  But after all, there was Robin.  He had not
+given it a fair trial, and it was only cowardice that had spoken to him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The clock struck half-past three and he went upstairs to see his
+father.  The old man seldom left his bed now.  He grew weaker every day
+and the end could not be far away.  He had no longer any desire to
+live, and awaited with serene confidence the instant of departure,
+being firmly convinced that Death was too good a gentleman to treat a
+Trojan scurvily, and that, whatever the next world might contain, he
+would at least be assured of the respect and deference that the present
+world had shown him.  His mind dwelt continually on his early days,
+and, even when there was no one present to listen, he repeated
+anecdotes and reminiscences for the benefit of the world at large.  His
+face seemed to have dwindled considerably, but his eyes were always
+alive&mdash;twinkling over the bedclothes like lights in a dark room.  His
+mouth never moved, only his hand, claw-like and yellow as parchment,
+clutched the bedclothes and sometimes waved feebly in the air to
+emphasise his meaning.  He had grown strangely intolerant of Clare, and
+although he submitted to her offices as usual, did so reluctantly and
+with no good grace; she had served him faithfully and diligently for
+twenty years and this was her reward.  She said nothing, but she laid
+it to Harry's charge.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sir Jeremy's eyes twinkled when he saw his son.  "Hey, Harry, my
+boy&mdash;all of 'em out, aren't they?  Devilish good thing&mdash;no one to worry
+us.  Just give the pillows a punch and pull that table nearer&mdash;that's
+right.  Just pull that blind up&mdash;I can't see the sea."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The room had changed its character within the last week.  It was a
+place of silences and noiseless tread, and the scent of flowers mingled
+with the intangible odour of medicine.  A great fire burnt in the open
+fireplace, and heavy curtains had been hung over the door to prevent
+draughts.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry moved silently about the room, flung up the blind to let in the
+sun, propped up the pillows, and then sat down by the bed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You're looking better, father," he said; "you'll soon be up again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The devil I will," said Sir Jeremy.  "No, it's not for me.  I'm here
+for a month or two, and then I'm off.  I've had my day, and a damned
+good one too.  What do you think o' that girl now, Harry&mdash;she's
+fine&mdash;what?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He produced from under the pillow a photograph, yellow with age, of a
+dancer&mdash;jet-black hair and black eyes, her body balanced on one leg,
+her hands on her hips.  "Anonita Sendella&mdash;a devilish fine woman, by
+gad&mdash;sixty years ago that was&mdash;and Tom Buckley and I were in the
+running.  He had the money and I had the looks, although you wouldn't
+think it now.  She liked me until she got tired of me and she died o'
+drink&mdash;not many like that nowadays."  He gazed at the photograph whilst
+his eyes twinkled.  "Legs&mdash;by Heaven! what legs!" He chuckled.
+"Wouldn't do for Clare to see that; she was shaking my pillows this
+mornin' and I was in a deuce of a fright&mdash;thought the thing would
+tumble out."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He lay back on his pillows thinking, and Harry stared out of the
+window.  The end would come in a month or two&mdash;perhaps sooner; and
+then, what would happen?  He would take his place as head of the
+family.  He laughed to himself&mdash;head of the family! when Clare and
+Garrett and Robin all hated him?  Head of the family!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The sky was grey and the sea flecked with white horses.  It was
+shifting colours to-day like a mother-of-pearl shell&mdash;a great band of
+dark grey on the horizon, and then a soft carpet of green turning to
+grey again by the shore.  The grey hoofs [Transcriber's note: roofs?]
+of the Cove crowded down to the edge of the land, seeming to lean a
+little forward, as though listening to what the sea had to say; the
+sun, breaking mistily through the clouds, was a round ball of dull
+gold&mdash;a line of breakwater, far in the distance, seemed ever about to
+advance down the stretch of sea to the shore, as though it would hurl
+itself on the cluster of brown sails in the little bay, huddling there
+for protection.  Head of the House!  What was the use, when the House
+didn't want him?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His father was watching him and seemed to have read his thoughts.
+"You'll take my place, Harry?" he said.  "They won't like it, you know.
+It was partly my fault.  I sent you away and you grew up away, and
+they've always been here.  I've been wanting you to come back all this
+time, and it wasn't because I was angry that I didn't ask you&mdash;but it
+was better for you.  You don't see it yet; you came back thinking
+they'd welcome you and be glad to see you, and you're a bit hurt that
+they haven't.  They've been hard to you, all of 'em&mdash;your boy as well.
+I've known, right enough.  But it cuts both ways, you see.  They can't
+see your point of view, and they're afraid of the open air you're
+letting in on to them.  You're too soft, Harry; you've shown them that
+it hurts, and they've wanted it to hurt.  Give 'em a stiff back, Harry,
+give 'em a stiff back.  Then you'll have 'em.  That's like us Trojans.
+We're devilish cruel because we're devilish proud; if you're kind we
+hurt, but if you do a bit of hurting on your own account we like it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've made a mess of it," Harry said, "a hopeless mess of it.  I've
+tried everything, and it's all failed.  I'd better back out of it&mdash;"
+Then, after a pause, "Robin hates me&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sir Jeremy chuckled.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh no, he doesn't.  He's like the rest of us.  You wanted him to give
+himself away at once, and of course he wouldn't.  They're trying you
+and waiting to see what you'll do, and Robin's just following on.
+You'll be all right, only give 'em a stiff back, the whole crowd of
+'em."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly his wrinkled yellow hand shot out from under the bedclothes
+and he grasped his son's.  "You're a damned fine chap," he said, "and
+I'm proud of you&mdash;only you're a bit of a fool&mdash;sentimental, you know.
+But you'll make more of the place than I've ever done, God bless you&mdash;"
+after which he lay back on his pillows again, and was soon asleep.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry waited for a little, and then he stole out of the room.  He told
+the nurse to take his place, and went downstairs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was four o'clock, and he was going to tea at the Bethels'.  He had
+been there pretty frequently during the past week&mdash;that and the Cove
+were his only courts of welcome.  He knew that his going there had only
+aggravated his offences in the eyes of his sister, but that he could
+not help.  Why should they dictate his friends to him?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The little drawing-room was neat and clean.  There were some flowers,
+and the chairs and sofa were not littered with books and needlework and
+strange fragments of feminine garments.  Mrs. Bethel was gorgeous in a
+green silk dress and the paint was more obtrusive than ever.  Her eyes
+were red as though she had been crying, and her hair as usual had
+escaped bounds.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mary was making tea and smiled up at him.  "Shout at father," she said.
+"He's downstairs in the study, browsing.  He'll come up when he knows
+you are here."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry went to the head of the stairs and called, and Bethel came
+rushing up.  Sunday made no difference to his clothes, and he wore the
+grey suit and flannel collar of their first meeting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His greeting was, as ever, boisterous.  "Hullo! Trojan! that's
+splendid!  I was afraid they'd carry you off to that church of yours or
+you'd have a tea-party or something.  I'm glad they've spared you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, I went this morning," Harry answered, "all of us solemnly in the
+family coach.  I thought that was enough for one day."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We used to have a carriage when papa was alive," said Mrs. Bethel,
+"and we drove to church every Sunday.  We were the only people beside
+the Porsons, and theirs was only a pony-cart."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, for my part, I hate driving," said Mary.  "It puts you in a bad
+temper for the sermon."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let's have tea," said Bethel.  "I'm as hungry as though I'd listened
+to fifty parsons."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And, indeed, he always was.  He ate as though he had had no meal for a
+month at least, and he had utterly demolished the tea-cake before he
+realised that no one else had had any.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I say, I'm so sorry," he said ruefully.  "Mary, why didn't you
+tell me?  I'll never forgive myself&mdash;&mdash;" and proceeded to finish the
+saffron buns.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"All the same," said Mary, "we're going to church to-night, all of us,
+and if you're very good, Mr. Trojan, you shall come too."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry paused for a moment.  "I shall be delighted," he said; "but where
+do you go?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There's a little church called St. Sennan's.  You haven't heard of it,
+probably.  It's past the Cove&mdash;on a hill looking over the sea.  It's
+the most tumble-down old place you ever saw, and nobody goes there
+except a few fishermen, but we know the clergyman and like him.  I like
+the place too&mdash;you can listen to the sea if you're bored with the
+sermon."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The parson is like one of the prophets," said Bethel.  "Too strong for
+the Pendragon point of view.  It's a place of ruins, Trojan, and the
+congregation are like a crowd of ancient Britons&mdash;but you'll like it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Bethel was unwontedly quiet&mdash;it was obvious that she was in
+distress; Mary, too, seemed to speak at random, and there was an air of
+constraint in the room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When they set off for church the grey sky had changed to blue; the sun
+had just set, and little pink clouds like fairy cushions hung round the
+moon.  As they passed out of the town, through the crooked path down to
+the Cove, Harry had again that strong sense of Cornwall that came to
+him sometimes so suddenly, so strangely, that it was almost mysterious,
+for it seemed to have no immediate cause, no absolute relation to
+surrounding sights or sounds.  Perhaps to-night it was in the misty
+half-light of the shining moon and the dying sun, the curious stillness
+of the air so that the sounds and cries of the town came distinctly on
+the wind, the scent of some wild flowers, the faint smell of the
+chrysanthemums that Mary was wearing at her breast.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By Jove, it's Cornwall," he said, drawing a great breath.  He was
+walking a little ahead with Mary, and he turned to her as she spoke.
+She was walking with her head bent, and did not seem to hear him.
+"What's up?" he said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nothing," she answered, trying to smile.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But there is," he insisted.  "I'm not blind.  I've bored you with my
+worries.  You might honour me with yours."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There isn't anything really.  One's foolish to mind, and, indeed, it's
+not for myself that I care&mdash;but it's mother."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What have they done?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They don't like us&mdash;none of them do.  I don't know why they should; we
+aren't, perhaps, very likeable.  But it is cruel of them to show it.
+Mother, you see, likes meeting people&mdash;we had it in London, friends I
+mean, lots of them, and then when we came here we had none.  We have
+never had any from the beginning.  We tried, perhaps a little too hard,
+to have some.  We gave little parties and they failed, and then people
+began to think us peculiar, and if they once do that here you're done
+for.  Perhaps we didn't see it quite soon enough and we went on trying,
+and then they began to snub us."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Snub you?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, you know the kind of thing.  You saw that first day we met
+you&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And it hurts?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;for mother.  She still tries; she doesn't see that it's no good,
+and each time that she goes and calls, something happens and she comes
+back like she did to-day.  I don't suppose they mean to be unkind&mdash;it
+is only that we are, you see, peculiar, and that doesn't do here.
+Father wears funny clothes and never sees any one, and so they think
+there must be something wrong&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's a shame," he said indignantly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," she answered, "it isn't really.  It's one's own fault&mdash;only
+sometimes I hate it all.  Why couldn't we have stayed in London?  We
+had friends there, and father's clothes didn't matter.  Here such
+little things make such a big difference"&mdash;which was, Harry reflected,
+a complete epitome of the life of Pendragon.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm not whining," she went on.  "We all have things that we don't
+like, but when you're without a friend&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not quite," he said; "you must count me."  He stopped for a moment.
+"You <I>will</I> count me, won't you?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You realise what you are doing," she said.  "You are entering into
+alliance with outcasts."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You forget," he answered, "that I, also, am an outcast.  We can at
+least be outcasts together."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is good of you," she said gravely; "I am selfish enough to accept
+it.  If I was really worth anything, I would never let you see us
+again.  It means ostracism."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We will fight them," he answered gaily.  "We will storm the camp"; but
+in his heart he knew that their stronghold, with "The Flutes" as the
+heart of the defence, would be hard to overcome.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They climbed up the hill to the little church with the sea roaring at
+their feet.  A strong wind was blowing, and, for a moment, at a steep
+turn of the hill, she laid her hand on his arm; at the touch his heart
+beat furiously&mdash;in that moment he knew that he loved her, that he had
+loved her from the first moment that he had seen her, and he passed on
+into the church.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was, as Bethel had said, almost in ruins&mdash;the little nave was
+complete, but ivy clambered in the aisles and birds had built their
+nests in the pillars.  Three misty candles flickered on the altar, and
+some lights burnt over the pulpit, but there were strange half-lights
+and shadows so that it seemed a place of ghosts.  Through the open door
+the night air blew, bringing with it the beating of the sea, and the
+breath of grass and flowers.  The congregation was scanty; some
+fishermen and their wives, two or three old women, and a baby that made
+no sound but listened wonderingly with its finger in its mouth.  The
+clergyman was a tall man with a long white beard and he did everything,
+even playing the little wheezy harmonium.  His sermon was short and
+simple, but was listened to with rapt attention.  There was something
+strangely intense about it all, and the hymns were sung with an
+eagerness that Harry had never heard elsewhere.  This was a contrast
+with the church of the morning, just as the Cove was a contrast with
+Pendragon; the parting of the ways seemed to face Harry at every moment
+of his day&mdash;his choice was being urgently demanded and he had no longer
+any hesitation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Newsome was there, and he spoke to him for a moment on coming out.
+"You'll be lonely 'up-along,'" he said; "you belong to us."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They all four walked back together.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How do you like our ancient Britons?" said Bethel.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It was wonderful," said Harry.  "Thank you for taking me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They were all very silent, but when they parted at the turning of the
+road Bethel laughed.  "Now you are one of us, Trojan.  We have claimed
+you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he shook Mary's hand he whispered, "This has been a great evening
+for me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I was wrong to grumble to you," she answered.  "You have worries
+enough of your own.  I release you from your pledge."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will not be released," he said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That night Clare Trojan, before going to bed, went into Garrett's room.
+He was working at his book, and, as usual, hinted that to take such
+advantage of his good-nature by her interruption was unfair.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I suppose to-morrow morning wouldn't do instead, Clare&mdash;it's a bit
+late."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, it wouldn't&mdash;I want you to listen to me.  It's important."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well?"  He seated himself in the most comfortable chair and sighed.
+"Don't be too long."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was excited and stood over him as though she would force him to be
+interested.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's too much, Garrett.  It's got to stop."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Harry.  Some one must speak to him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett smiled.  "That, of course, will be you, Clare&mdash;you always do;
+but if it's my permission that you want you may have it and welcome.
+But we've discussed all this before.  What's the new turn of affairs?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No.  I want more than your permission; we must take some measures
+together.  It's no good unless we act at once.  Miss Ponsonby told me
+this afternoon&mdash;it has become common talk&mdash;the things he does, I mean.
+She did not want to say anything, but I made her.  He goes down
+continually to some low public-house in the Cove; he is with those
+Bethels all day, and will see nothing of any of the decent people in
+the place&mdash;he is becoming a common byword."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is a pity," Garrett said, "that he cannot choose his friends
+better."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He must&mdash;something must be done.  It is not for ourselves only, though
+of course that counts.  But it is the House&mdash;our name.  They laugh at
+him, and so at all of us.  Besides, there is Robin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett looked at his sister curiously&mdash;he had never seen her so
+excited before.  But she found it no laughing matter.  Miss Ponsonby
+would not have spoken unless matters had gone pretty far.  The Cove!
+The Bethels!  Robin's father!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For, after all, it was for Robin that she cared.  She felt that she was
+fighting his battles, and so subtly concealed from herself that she
+was, in reality, fighting her own.  She was in a state of miserable
+uncertainty.  She was not sure of her father, she was not sure of
+Robin, scarcely sure of Garrett&mdash;everything threatened disaster.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What will you do?"  Garrett had no desire that the responsibility
+should be shifted in his direction; he feared responsibility as the
+rock on which the ship of his carefully preserved proprieties might
+come to wreck.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do?  Why, speak&mdash;it must be done.  Think of him during the whole time
+that he has been here&mdash;not only to Pendragon, but to us.  He has made
+no attempt whatever to fit in with our ways or thoughts; he has shown
+no desire to understand any of us; and now he must be pulled up, for
+his own sake as well as ours."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Garrett offered her little assistance.  He had no proposals to
+offer, and was barren of all definite efforts; he hated definite lines
+of any kind, but he promised to fall in with her plans.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will come down to breakfast," she said, "and will speak to him
+afterwards."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett nodded wearily and went back to his work.  On the next morning
+the crisis came.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Breakfast was a silent meal at all times.  Harry had learnt to avoid
+the cheerful familiarity of his first morning&mdash;it would not do.  But
+the heavy solemnity of the massive silver teapot, the ham and cold game
+on the sideboard, the racks of toast that were so needlessly numerous,
+drove him into himself, and, like his brother and son, he disappeared
+behind folds of newspaper until the meal was over.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare frequently came down to breakfast, and therefore he saw nothing
+unusual in her appearance.  The meal was quite silent; Clare had her
+letters&mdash;and he was about to rise and leave the room, when she spoke.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wait a minute, Harry.  I want to say something.  No, Robin, don't
+go&mdash;what I'm going to say concerns us all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett remained behind his newspaper, which showed that he had
+received previous warning.  Robin looked up in surprise, and then
+quickly at his father, who had moved to the fireplace.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"About me, Clare?"  He tried to speak calmly, but his voice shook a
+little.  He saw that it was a premeditated attack, but he wished that
+Robin hadn't been there.  He was, on the whole, glad that the moment
+had come; the last week had been almost unbearable, and the situation
+was bound to arrive at a crisis&mdash;well, here it was, but he wished that
+Robin were not there.  As he looked at the boy for a moment his face
+was white and his breath came sharply.  He had never loved him quite so
+passionately as at that moment when he seemed about to lose him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare had chosen her time and her audience well, and suddenly he felt
+that he hated her; he was immediately calm and awaited her attack
+almost nonchalantly, his hand resting on the mantelpiece, his legs
+crossed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare was still sitting at the table, her face half turned to Harry,
+her glance resting on Robin.  She tapped the table with her letters,
+but otherwise gave no sign of agitation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;about you, Harry.  It is only that I think we have reason&mdash;almost
+a right&mdash;to expect that you should yield a little more thoroughly to
+our wishes.  Both <I>Garrett</I>"&mdash;this with emphasis&mdash;"and myself are sure
+that your failing to do so is only due to a misconception on your part,
+and it is because we are sure that you have only to realise them to
+give way a little to them, that I&mdash;we&mdash;are speaking."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I certainly had not realised that I had failed in deference to your
+wishes, Clare."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, not failed&mdash;and it is absurd to talk of deference.  It is only
+that I feel&mdash;we all feel"&mdash;this with another glance at Robin&mdash;"that it
+is naturally impossible for you to realise exactly what are the things
+required of us here.  Things that would in New Zealand have been of no
+importance at all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Such as&mdash;&mdash;?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, you must remember that we have, as it were, the eyes of all the
+town upon us.  We occupy a position of some importance, and we are
+definitely expected to maintain that position without lack of dignity."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Won't you come to the point, Clare?  It is a little hard to see&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, things are obvious enough&mdash;surely, Harry, you must see for
+yourself.  People were ready to give you a warm welcome when you
+returned.  I&mdash;we&mdash;all of us, were only too glad.  But you repulsed us
+all.  Why, on the very day after your arrival you were extremely&mdash;I am
+sorry, but there is no other word&mdash;discourteous to the Miss Ponsonbys.
+You have made your friends almost entirely amongst the fisher class, a
+strange thing, surely, for a Trojan to do, and you now, I believe,
+spend your evenings frequently in a low public-house resorted to by
+such persons&mdash;at any rate you have spent them neither here nor at the
+Club, the two obvious places.  I am only mentioning these things
+because I think that you may not have seen that such matters&mdash;trivial
+as they may seem to you&mdash;reflect discredit, not only on yourself, but
+also, indirectly, on all of us."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You forget, Clare, that I have many old friends down at the Cove.
+They were there when I was a boy.  The people in Pendragon have changed
+very largely, almost entirely.  There is scarcely any one whom I knew
+twenty years ago; it is, I should have thought, quite natural that I
+should go to see my old friends again after so long an absence."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was trying to speak quietly and calmly.  His heart was beating
+furiously, but he knew that if he once lost control, he would lose,
+too, his position.  But, as he watched them, and saw their cold,
+unmoved attitude his anger rose; he had to keep it down with both hands
+clenched&mdash;it was only by remembering Robin that the effort was
+successful.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Natural to go and see them on your return&mdash;of course.  But to return,
+to go continually, no.  I cannot help feeling, Harry, that you have
+been a little selfish.  That you have scarcely seen our side of the
+question.  Things have changed in the last twenty years&mdash;changed
+enormously.  We have seen them, studied them, and, I think, understood
+them.  You come back and face them without any preparation; surely you
+cannot expect to understand them quite as we do."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"This seems to me, I must confess, Clare, a great deal of concern about
+a very little matter.  Surely I am not a person of such importance that
+a few visits to the Cove can ruin us socially?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah! that is what you don't understand!  Little things matter here.
+People watch, and are, I am afraid, only too ready to fasten on matters
+that do not concern them.  Besides, it is not only the Cove&mdash;there are
+other things&mdash;there are, for instance, the Bethels."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At the name Robin started.  He liked Mary Bethel, had liked her very
+much indeed, but he had known that his aunt disapproved of them and had
+been careful to disguise his meetings.  But the instant thought in his
+mind concerned the Feverels.  If the Bethels were impossible socially,
+what about Dahlia and her mother?  What would his aunt say if she knew
+of that little affair?  And the question which had attacked him acutely
+during the last week in various forms hurt him now like a knife.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He watched his father curiously.  He did not look as if he cared very
+greatly.  Of course Aunt Clare was perfectly right.  He had been
+selfishly indifferent, had cared nothing for their feelings.  Randal
+had shown plainly enough how impossible he was.  Indeed the shadow of
+Randal lurked in the room in a manner that would have pleased that
+young gentleman intensely had he known it.  Clare had it continually
+before her, urging her, advising her, commanding her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At the mention of the Bethels, Harry looked up sharply.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think we had better leave them out of the discussion."  His voice
+trembled a little.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why?  Are they so much to you?  They have, however, a good deal to do
+with my argument.  Do you think it was wise to neglect the whole of
+Pendragon for the society of the Bethels&mdash;people of whom one is an
+idler and loafer and the other a lunatic?"  Clare was becoming excited.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You forget, Clare, that I first met them in your drawing-room."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They were there entirely against my will.  I showed them that quite
+distinctly at the time.  They will not come again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That may be.  But they are, as you have said, my friends.  I cannot,
+therefore, hear them insulted.  They must be left out of the
+discussion."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On any other matter he could have heard her quietly, but the Bethels
+she must leave alone.  He could see Mary, as he spoke, turning on the
+hill and laying her hand on his arm; her hair blew in the wind and the
+light in her eyes shone under the moon.  He had for a moment forgotten
+Robin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"At any rate, I have made my meaning clear.  We wish you&mdash;out of regard
+for us, if for no other reason&mdash;to be a little more careful both of
+your company and of your statements.  It is hard for you to see the
+position quite as we do, I know, but I cannot say that you have made
+any attempt whatsoever to see it with our eyes.  It seems useless to
+appeal to you on behalf of the House, but that, too, is worth some
+consideration.  We have been here for many hundreds of years; we should
+continue in the paths that our ancestors have marked out.  I am only
+saying what you yourself feel, Garrett?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Absolutely."  Garrett looked up from his paper.  "I think you must
+see, Harry, that we are quite justified in our demands&mdash;Clare has put
+it quite plainly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Quite," said Harry.  "And you, Robin?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think that Aunt Clare is perfectly right," answered Robin coldly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry's face was very white.  He spoke rapidly and his hand gripped the
+marble of the mantelpiece; he did not want them to see that his legs
+were trembling.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes.  I am glad to know exactly where we stand.  It is better for all
+of us.  I might have taken it submissively, Clare, had you left out
+your last count against me.  That was unworthy of you.  But haven't
+you, perhaps, seen just a little too completely your own point of view
+and omitted mine?  I came back a stranger.  I was ready to do anything
+to win your regard.  I was perhaps a little foolishly sentimental about
+it, but I am a very easy person to understand&mdash;it could not have been
+very difficult.  I imagined, foolishly, that things would be quite
+easy&mdash;that there would be no complications.  I soon found that I had
+made a mistake; you have taught me more during the last fortnight than
+I had ever learnt in all my twenty years abroad.  I have learnt that to
+expect affection from your own relations, even from your son, is
+absurd&mdash;affection is bad form; that, of course, was rather a shock.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You have had, all of you, your innings during the last fortnight.  You
+have decided, with your friends, that I am impossible, and from that
+moment you have deliberately cut me.  You have driven me to find
+friends of my own and then you have complained of the friends that I
+have chosen.  That is completed&mdash;in a fortnight you have shown me,
+quite plainly, your position.  Now I will show you mine.  You have
+refused to have anything to do with me&mdash;for the future the position
+shall be reversed.  I shall alter in no respect whatever, either my
+friendships or my habits.  I shall go where I please, do what I please,
+see whom I please.  We shall, of course, disguise our position from the
+world.  I have learnt that disguise is a very important part of one's
+education.  Our former relations from this moment cease entirely."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was speaking apparently calmly, but his anger was at white-heat.
+All the veiled insults and disappointments of the last fortnight rose
+before him, but, above all, he saw Mary as though he were defending
+her, there, in the room.  He would never forgive them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare was surprised, but she did not show it.  She got up from the
+table and walked to the door.  "Very well, Harry," she said, "I think
+you will regret it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett rose too, his hand trembling a little as he folded his
+newspaper.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is, I suppose, an ultimatum," he said.  "It is a piece of
+insolence that I shall not forget."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin was turning to leave the room.  Harry suddenly saw him.  He had
+forgotten him; he had thought only of Mary.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin," he whispered, stepping towards him.  "Robin&mdash;you don't think
+as they do?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I agree with my aunt," he said, and he left the room, closing the door
+quietly behind him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry's defiance had left him.  For a moment the only thing that he saw
+clearly in a world that had suddenly grown dark and cold was his son.
+He had forgotten the rest&mdash;his sister, Mary, Pendragon&mdash;it all seemed
+to matter nothing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had come from New Zealand to love his son&mdash;for nothing else.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had an impulse to run after him, to seize him, and hold him, and
+force him to come back.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then he remembered&mdash;his pride stung him.  He would fight it out to the
+end; he would, as his father said, "show them a stiff back."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was very white, and for a moment he had to steady himself by the
+table.  The silver teapot, the ham, the racks of toast were all
+there&mdash;how strange, when the rest of the world had changed; he was
+quite alone now&mdash;he must remember that&mdash;he had no son.  And he, too,
+went out, closing the door quietly behind him.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap08"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER VIII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Some letters during this week:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+23 SOUTHWICK CRESCENT, W.,<BR>
+<I>October</I> 10, 1906.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+My dear Robin&mdash;I should have written before, I am ashamed of my
+omission, but my approaching departure abroad has thrown a great many
+things on my hands; I have a paper to finish for Clarkson and an essay
+for the <I>New Review</I>, and letter-writing has been at a standstill.  It
+was delightful&mdash;that little peep of you that I got&mdash;and it only made me
+regret the more that it is impossible to see much of you nowadays.  I
+cannot help feeling that there is a danger of vegetation if one limits
+oneself too completely to a provincial life, and, charming though
+Cornwall is, its very fascination causes one to forget the importance
+of the outer world.  I fancied that I discerned signs that you yourself
+felt this confinement and wished for something broader.  Well, why not
+have it?  I confess that I see no reason.  Come up to London for a
+time&mdash;go abroad&mdash;your beloved Germany is waiting for you, and a year at
+one of the Universities would be both amusing and instructive.  These
+are only suggestions; I should hesitate to offer them at all were it
+not that there has always been such sympathy between us that I know you
+will not resent them.  Of course, the arrival of your father has made
+considerable difference.  I must say, honestly, that I regretted to see
+that you had not more in common.  The fault, I expect, has been on both
+sides; as I said to you before, it has been hard for him to realise
+exactly what it is that we consider important.  We&mdash;quite mistakenly
+possibly&mdash;have come to feel that certain things, art, literature,
+music, are absolutely essential to us, morally and physically.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+They are nothing at all to him, and I can quite understand that you
+have found it difficult&mdash;almost impossible&mdash;to grasp his standpoint.  I
+must confess that he did not seem to me to attempt to consider yours;
+but it is easy, and indeed impertinent, to criticise, and I hope that,
+on the next occasion of your writing, I shall hear that things are
+going smoothly and that the first inevitable awkwardnesses have worn
+off.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+I must stop.  I have let my pen wander away with me.  But do consider
+what I said about coming up to town; I am sure that it is bad for you
+in every way&mdash;this burial.  Think of your friends, old chap, and let
+them see something of you.&mdash;Yours ever,
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+LANCELOT RANDAL.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"THE FLUTES," PENDRAGON,<BR>
+<I>October</I> 12, 1906.<BR></P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+My dear Lance&mdash;Thanks very much for your letter.  This mustn't pretend
+to be anything of a letter.  I have a thousand things to do, and no
+time to do them.  It was very delightful seeing you, and I, too, was
+extremely sorry we could not see more of you.  My aunt enjoyed your
+visit enormously, and told me to remind you that you are expected here,
+for a long stay, on your return from Germany.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+Yes, I was worried and am still.  There are various things&mdash;"it never
+rains but it pours"&mdash;but I cannot feel that they are in the least due
+to my vegetating.  I haven't the least intention of sticking here, but
+my grandfather is, as you know, very ill, and it is impossible for me
+to get away at present.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+Resent what you said!  Why, no, of course not.  We are too good friends
+for resentment, and I am only too grateful for your advice.  The
+situation here at this moment is peculiarly Meredithian&mdash;and, although
+one ought perhaps to be silent concerning it, I know that I can trust
+you absolutely and I need your advice badly.  Besides, I must speak to
+some one about it; I have been thinking it over all day and am quite at
+a loss.  There was battle royal this morning after breakfast, and my
+father was extremely rude to my aunt, acting apparently from quite
+selfish motives.  I want to look at it fairly, but I can, honestly, see
+it in no other light.  My aunt accused him of indifference with regard
+to the family good name.  She, quite rightly, I think, pointed out that
+his behaviour from first to last had been the reverse of courteous to
+herself and her friends, and she suggested that he had, perhaps,
+scarcely realised the importance of maintaining the family dignity in
+the eyes of Pendragon.  You remember his continual absences and the
+queer friendships that he formed.  She suggested that he should modify
+these, and take a little more interest in the circle to which we,
+ourselves, belong.  Surely there is nothing objectionable in all this;
+indeed, I should have thought that he would have been grateful for her
+advice.  But no&mdash;he fired up in the most absurd manner, accused us of
+unfairness and prejudice, declared his intention of going his own way,
+and gave us all his congé.  In fact, he was extremely rude to my aunt,
+and I cannot forgive him for some of the things that he said.  His
+attitude has been absurd from the first, and I cannot see that we could
+have acted otherwise, but the situation is now peculiar, and what will
+come of it I don't know.  I must dress for dinner&mdash;I am curious to see
+whether he will appear&mdash;he was out for lunch.  Let me have a line if
+you have a spare moment.  I scarcely know how to act.&mdash;Yours,
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+ROBERT TROJAN.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+23 SOUTHWICK CRESCENT, W.,<BR>
+<I>October</I> 14, 1906.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+Dear Robin&mdash;In furious haste, am just off and have really no time for
+anything.  I am more sorry than I can say to hear your news.  I must
+confess that I had feared something of the kind; matters seemed working
+to a climax when I was with you.  As to advice, it is almost
+impossible; I really don't know what to say, it is so hard for me to
+judge of all the circumstances.  But it seems to me that your father
+can have had no warrant for the course that he took.  One is naturally
+chary of delivering judgment in such a case, but it was, obviously, his
+duty to adapt himself to his environment.  He cannot blame you for
+reminding him of that fact.  Out of loyalty to your aunt, I do not see
+that you can do anything until he has apologised.  But I will think of
+the matter further, and will write to you from abroad.&mdash;In great haste,
+your friend, LANCELOT RANDAL.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"THE FLUTES," PENDRAGON, CORNWALL,<BR>
+<I>October</I> 13, 1906.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+Dear Miss Feverel&mdash;I must apologise for forcing you to realise once
+more my existence.  Any reminder must necessarily be painful after our
+last meeting, but I am writing this to request the return of all other
+reminders of our acquaintance that you may happen to possess; I enclose
+the locket, the ring, your letters, and the tie that you worked.  We
+discussed this matter the other day, but I cannot believe that you will
+still hold to a determination that can serve no purpose, except perhaps
+to embitter feelings on both sides.  From what I have known of you I
+cannot believe that you are indulging motives of revenge&mdash;but,
+otherwise, I must confess that I am at a loss.&mdash;Expecting to receive
+the letters by return, I am, yours truly,
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+ROBERT TROJAN.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+9 SEA VIEW TERRACE, PENDRAGON, CORNWALL,<BR>
+<I>October</I> 14, 1906.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+Dear Mr. Trojan&mdash;Thank you for the locket, the ring, and the letters
+which I have received.  I regret that I must decline to part with the
+letters; surely it is not strange that I should wish to keep
+them.&mdash;Yours truly, DAHLIA FEVEREL.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"THE FLUTES,"<BR>
+<I>October</I> 15, 1906.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+What do you mean?  You have no right to them.  They are mine.  I wrote
+them.  You serve no purpose by keeping them.  Please return them at
+once&mdash;by return.  I have done nothing to deserve this.  Unless you
+return them, I shall know that you are merely an intriguing&mdash;; no, I
+don't mean that.  Please send them back.  Suppose they should be
+seen?&mdash;In haste, R. T.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+9 SEA VIEW TERRACE, PENDRAGON, CORNWALL,<BR>
+_October_ 15, 1906.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+My decision is unalterable.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+D. F.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<P>
+But Dahlia sat in the dreary little drawing-room watching the grey sea
+with a white face and hard, staring eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had sat there all day.  She thought that soon she would go mad.
+She had not slept since her last meeting with Robin; she had scarcely
+eaten&mdash;she was too tired to think.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The days had been interminable.  At first she had waited, expecting
+that he would come back.  A hundred impulses had been at work.  At
+first she had thought that she would go and tell him that she had not
+meant what she said; she would persuade him to come back, She would
+offer him the letters and tell him that she had meant nothing&mdash;they had
+been idle words.  But then she remembered some of the things that he
+had said, some of the stones that he had flung.  She was not good
+enough for him or his family; she had no right to expect that an
+alliance was ever possible.  His family despised her.  And then her
+thoughts turned from Robin to his family.  She had seen Clare often
+enough and had always disliked her.  But now she hated her so that she
+could have gladly killed her.  It was at her door that she laid all the
+change in Robin and her own misery.  She felt that she would do
+anything in the world to cause her pain.  She brooded over it in the
+shabby little room with her face turned to the sea.  How could she hurt
+her?  There were the others, too&mdash;the rest of the family&mdash;all except
+Robin's father, who was, she felt instinctively, different.  She
+thought that he would not have acted in that way.  And then her
+thoughts turned back to Robin, and for a moment she fancied that she
+hated him, and then she knew that she still loved him&mdash;and she stared
+at the grey sea with misery in her heart and a dull, sombre confusion
+in her brain.  No, she did not hate Robin, she did not really want to
+hurt him.  How could she, when they had had those wonderful months
+together?  Those months that seemed such centuries and centuries away.
+But, nevertheless, she kept the letters.  Her mother had talked about
+them, had advised her to keep them.  She did not mean to do anything
+very definite with them&mdash;she could not look ahead very far&mdash;but she
+would keep them for a little.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When she had seen Robin's handwriting again it had been almost more
+than she could bear.  For some time she had been unable to tear open
+the envelope and speculated, confusedly, on the contents.  Perhaps he
+had repented.  She judged him by her own days and nights of utter
+misery and knew that, had it been herself, they would have driven her
+back crying to his feet.  Perhaps it was to ask for another interview.
+That she would refuse.  She felt that she could not endure another such
+meeting as their last; if he were to come to her without warning, to
+surprise her suddenly&mdash;her heart beat furiously at the thought; but the
+deliberate meeting merely for the purpose of his own advantage&mdash;no!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She opened the letter, read the cold lines, and knew that it was
+utterly the end.  She had fancied, at their last meeting, that her
+love, like a bird shot through the heart, had fallen at his feet, dead;
+then, after those days of his absence, his figure had grown in her
+sight, glorified, resplendent, and love had revived again&mdash;now, with
+this letter she knew that it was over.  She did not cry, she scarcely
+moved.  She watched the sea, with the letter on her lap, and felt that
+a new Dahlia Feverel, a woman who would traffic no longer with
+sentiment, who knew the world for what it was&mdash;a hard, merciless prison
+with fiends for its gaolers&mdash;had sprung to birth.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She replied to him and showed her mother her answer.  She scarcely
+listened to Mrs. Feverel's comments and went about her daily affairs,
+quietly, without confusion.  She saw herself and Robin like figures in
+a play&mdash;she applauded the comedy and the tragedy left her unmoved.
+Robin Trojan had much to answer for.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He read her second letter with dismay.  He had spent the day in
+solitary confinement in his room, turning the situation round and round
+in his mind, lost in a perfect labyrinth of suggested remedies, none of
+which afforded him any outlet.  The thought of exposure was horrible;
+anything must be done to avoid that&mdash;disgrace to himself was bad
+enough; to be held up for laughter before his Cambridge friends,
+Randal, his London acquaintances&mdash;but disgrace to the family!  That was
+the awful thing!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From his cradle this creed of the family had been taught him; he had
+learnt it so thoroughly that he had grown to test everything by that
+standard; it was his father's disloyalty to that creed that had roused
+the son's anger&mdash;and now, behold, the son was sinning more than the
+father!  It was truly ironic that, three days after his attacking a
+member of the family for betraying the family, he himself should be
+guilty of far greater betrayal!  How topsy-turvy the world seemed, and
+what was to be done?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The brevity and conciseness of Dahlia's last letter left him in no
+doubt as to her intentions.  Breach of Promise!  The letters would be
+read in court, would be printed in the newspapers for all the world to
+see.  With youth's easy grasping of eternity, it seemed to him that his
+disgrace would be for ever.  Beddoes' "Death's Jest-book" was lying
+open on his knee.  Wolfram's song&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Old Adam, the carrion crow,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">The old crow of Cairo;</SPAN><BR>
+He sat in the shower, and let it flow<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Under his tail and over his crest;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">And through every feather</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Leaked the wet weather;</SPAN><BR>
+And the bough swung under his nest;<BR>
+For his beak it was heavy with marrow.<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Is that the wind dying?  Oh no;</SPAN><BR>
+It's only two devils, that blow<BR>
+Through a murderer's bones, to and fro,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">In the ghost's moonshine&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+had always seemed to him the most madly sinister verse in English
+literature.  It had been read to him by Randal at Cambridge and had had
+a curious fascination for him from the first.  He had found that the
+little bookseller at Worms had known it and had indeed claimed Beddoes
+for a German&mdash;now it seemed to warn him vaguely of impending disaster.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He did not see that he himself could act any further in the matter; she
+would not see him and writing was useless.  And yet to leave the matter
+uncertain, waiting for the blow to fall, with no knowledge of the
+movements in the other camp, was not to be thought of.  He must do
+something.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The moment had arrived when advice must be taken&mdash;but from whom?  His
+father was out of the question.  It was three days since the explosion,
+and there was an armed truce.  He had, in spite of himself, admired his
+father's conduct during the last three days, and he was surprised to
+find that it was his aunt and uncle rather than his father who had
+failed to carry off the situation.  He refused as yet to admit it to
+himself, but the three of them, his aunt, his uncle, and himself, had
+seemed almost frightened.  His father was another person; stern, cold,
+unfailingly polite, suddenly apparently possessed of those little
+courtesies in which he had seemed before so singularly lacking.  There
+had been conversation of a kind at meals, and it had always been his
+father who had filled awkward pauses and avoided difficult moments.
+The knowledge, too, that his father would, in a few months' time, be
+head of the house, was borne in upon him with new force; it might be
+unpleasant, but it would not, as he had formerly fancied, be ludicrous.
+A sign of his changed attitude was the fact that he rather resented
+Randal's letter and wished a little that he had not taken him into his
+confidence.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Nevertheless, to ask advice of his father was impossible.  He must
+speak to his uncle and aunt.  How hard this would be only he himself
+knew.  He had never in their eyes failed, in any degree, towards the
+family honour.  From whatever side the House might be attacked, it
+would not be through him.  There was nothing in his past life, they
+thought, at which they would not care to look.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He realised, too, Clare's love for him.  He had known from very early
+days that he counted for everything in her life; that her faith in the
+family centred in his own honour and that her hopes for the family were
+founded completely in his own progress&mdash;and now he must tell her this.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He could not, he knew, have chosen a more unfortunate time.  The House
+had already been threatened by the conduct of the father; it was now to
+totter under blows dealt by the son.  The first crisis had been severe,
+this would be infinitely more so.  He hated himself for the first time
+in his life, and, in doing so, began for the first time to realise
+himself a little.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Well, he must speak to them and ask them what was to be done, and the
+sooner it was over the better.  He put the Beddoes back into the shelf,
+and went to the windows.  It was already dark; light twinkled in the
+bay, and a line of white breakers flashed and vanished, keeping time,
+it seemed, with the changing gleam of the lighthouse far out to sea.
+His own room was dark, save for the glow of the fire.  They would be at
+tea; probably his father would not be there&mdash;the present would be a
+good time to choose.  He pulled his courage together and went
+downstairs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he had expected, Garrett was having tea with Clare in her own
+room&mdash;the Castle of Intimacy, as Randal had once called it.  Garrett
+was reading; Clare was sitting by the fire, thinking.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She will soon have more to think about," thought Robin wretchedly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She looked up as he came in.  "Ah, Robin, that's splendid!  I was just
+going to send up for you.  Come and sit here and talk to me.  I've
+hardly seen you to-day."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had been very affectionate during the last three days&mdash;rather too
+affectionate, Robin thought.  He liked her better when she was less
+demonstrative.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Where have you been all the afternoon?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In my room.  I've been busy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Tea?  You don't mind it strong, do you, because it's been here a good
+long time?  Gingerbread cake especially for you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But gingerbread cake wasn't in the least attractive.  Beddoes suited
+him much better:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Is that the wind dying?  Oh no;</SPAN><BR>
+It's only two devils, that blow<BR>
+Through a murderer's bones, to and fro,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In the ghost's moonshine.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Do you know Beddoes, aunt?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, dear.  What kind of thing is it?  Poetry?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes.  You wouldn't like it, though&mdash;&mdash;only I've been reading him this
+afternoon.  He suited my mood."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Boys of your age shouldn't have moods."  This from Garrett.  "I never
+had."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin took his tea without answering, and sat down on the opposite side
+of the fire to his aunt.  How was he to begin?  What was he to say?
+There followed an awful pause&mdash;life seemed to have been full of pauses
+lately.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare was watching him anxiously.  How had his father's outbreak
+affected him?  She was afraid, from little things that she had seen,
+that he had been influenced.  Harry had been so different those last
+three days&mdash;she could not understand it.  She watched him eagerly,
+hungrily.  Why was he not still the baby that she could take on her
+knees and kiss and sentimentalise over?  He, too, she fancied, had been
+different during these last days.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"More tea, Robin?  You'd better&mdash;it's a long while before dinner."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, thanks, aunt.  I&mdash;that is&mdash;well, I've something I wanted to say."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He turned round in his chair and faced the fire.  He would rather not
+look at her whilst he was speaking.  Garrett put down his book and
+looked up.  Was there going to be more worry?  What had happened lately
+to the world?  It seemed to have lost all proper respect for the Trojan
+position.  He could not understand it.  Clare drew her breath sharply.
+Her fears thronged about her, like shadows in the firelight&mdash;what was
+it? ...  Was it Harry?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What about, Robin?  Is anything the matter?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, no&mdash;nothing really&mdash;it's only&mdash;that is&mdash;Oh, dash it all&mdash;it's
+awfully difficult."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was another silence.  The ticking of the clock drove Robin into
+further speech.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well&mdash;I've made a bit of a mess.  I've been rather a fool and I want
+your advice."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Another pause, but no assistance save a cold "Well?" from Garrett.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You see it was at Cambridge, last summer.  I was an awful fool, I
+know, but I really didn't know how far it was going until&mdash;well, until
+afterwards&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Until&mdash;after what?" said Garrett.  "Would you mind being a little
+clearer, Robin?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, it was a girl."  Robin stopped.  It sounded so horrible, spoken
+like that in cold blood.  He did not dare to look at his aunt, but he
+wondered what her face was like.  He pulled desperately at his tie, and
+hurried on.  "Nothing very bad, you know.  I meant, at first, anyhow&mdash;I
+met her at another man's&mdash;Grant of Clare&mdash;quite a good chap, and he
+gave a picnic&mdash;canaders and things up the river.  We had a jolly
+afternoon and she seemed awfully nice and&mdash;her mother wasn't there.
+Then&mdash;after that&mdash;I saw a lot of her.  Every one does at Cambridge&mdash;I
+mean see girls and all that kind of thing&mdash;and I didn't think anything
+of it&mdash;and she really <I>seemed</I> awfully nice then.  There isn't much to
+do at Cambridge, except that sort of thing&mdash;really.  Then, after term,
+I came down here, and I began to write.  I'm afraid I was a bit silly,
+but I didn't know it then, and I used to write her letters pretty
+often, and she answered them.  And&mdash;well, you know the sort of thing,
+Uncle Garrett&mdash;I thought I loved her&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At this climax, Robin came to a pause, and hoped that they would help
+him, but they said no word until, at last, Garrett said impatiently,
+"Go on."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well," continued Robin desperately, "that's really all&mdash;" knowing,
+however, that he had not yet arrived at the point of the story.
+"She&mdash;and her mother&mdash;came down to live here&mdash;and then, somehow, I
+didn't like her quite so much.  It seemed different down here, and her
+mother was horrid.  I began to see it differently, and at last, one
+night, I told her so.  Of course, I thought, naturally, that she would
+understand.  But she didn't&mdash;her mother was horrid&mdash;and she made a
+scene&mdash;it was all very unpleasant."  Robin was dragging his
+handkerchief between his fingers, and looking imploringly at the fire.
+"Then I went and saw her again and asked her for&mdash;my letters&mdash;she said
+she'd keep them&mdash;and I'm afraid she may use them&mdash;and&mdash;well, that's
+all," he finished lamely.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He thought that hours of terrible silence followed his speech.  He sat
+motionless in his chair waiting for their words.  He was rather glad
+now that he had spoken.  It had been a relief to unburden himself; for
+so many days he had only had his own thoughts and suggestions to apply
+to the situation.  But he was afraid to look at his aunt.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You young fool," at last from Garrett.  "Who is the girl?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A Miss Feverel&mdash;she lives with her mother at Sea view Terrace&mdash;there
+is no father."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Feverel?  What!  That girl!  You wrote to her!  You&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At last his aunt had spoken.  He had never heard her speak like that
+before&mdash;the "You!" was a cry of horror.  She suddenly got up and went
+over to him.  She bent over him where he sat, with head lowered, and
+shook him by the shoulder.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin!  It can't be true&mdash;you haven't written to that girl!  Not
+love-letters!  It is incredible!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is true&mdash;" he said, looking up.  "Don't look at me like that, Aunt
+Clare.  It isn't so bad&mdash;other fellows&mdash;&mdash;" but then he was ashamed and
+stopped.  He would leave his defence alone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is that all?" said Garrett.  "All you have done, I mean?  You haven't
+injured the girl?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I swear that's all," Robin said eagerly.  "I meant no harm by it.  I
+wrote the letters without thinking I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare stood leaning on the mantelpiece, her head between her hands.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I can't understand it.  I can't understand it," she said.  "It isn't
+like you&mdash;not a bit.  That girl and you&mdash;why, it's incredible!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's only because you had your fancy idea of him, Clare," said
+Garrett.  "We'd better pass the lamentation stage and decide what's to
+be done."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For once Garrett seemed practical; he was pleased with himself for
+being so.  It had suddenly occurred to him that he was the only person
+who could really deal with the situation.  Clare was a woman, Harry was
+out of the question, Robin was a boy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Have you spoken to your father?" he asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No.  Of course not!" Robin answered, rather fiercely.  "How could I?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare went back to her chair.  "That girl!  But, Robin, she's
+plain&mdash;quite&mdash;and her manners, her mother&mdash;everything impossible!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was still incredible that Robin, the work of her hands as it were,
+into whom she had poured all things that were lovely and of good
+report, could have made love to an ordinary girl of the middle
+classes&mdash;a vulgar girl with a still more vulgar mother.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But in spite of her vulgarity she was jealous of her.  "You don't care
+for her any longer, Robin?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now?&mdash;oh no&mdash;not for a long time&mdash;I don't think I ever did really.  I
+can't think how I was ever such a fool."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She still threatens Breach of Promise," said Garrett, whose mind was
+slowly working as to the best means of proving his practical utility.
+"That's the point, of course.  That the letters are there and that we
+have got to get them back.  What kind of letters were they?  Did you
+actually give her hopes?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin blushed.  "Yes, I'm afraid I did&mdash;as well as I can remember, and
+judging by her answers.  I said the usual sort of things&mdash;&mdash;"  He
+paused.  It was best, he felt, to leave it vague.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Clare had scarcely arrived at the danger of it yet&mdash;the danger to
+the House.  Her present thought was of Robin; that she must alter her
+feelings about him, take him from his pedestal&mdash;a Trojan who could make
+love to any kind of girl!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I can't think of it now," she said; "it's confusing.  We must see
+what's to be done.  We'll talk about it some other time.  It's hard to
+see just at present."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett looked puzzled.  "It's a bit of a mess," he said.  "But we'll
+see&mdash;&mdash;" and left the room with an air of importance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin turned to go, and then walked over to his aunt, and put his hand
+on her sleeve.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't think me such a rotter," he said.  "I am awfully sorry&mdash;it's
+about you that I care most&mdash;but I've learnt a lesson; I'll never do
+anything like that again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She smiled up at him, and took his hand in hers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, old boy, no.  Of course I was a little surprised.  But I don't
+mind very much if you care for me in the same way.  That's all I have,
+Robin&mdash;your caring; and I don't think it matters very much what you do,
+if I still have that."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course you have," he said, and bent down and kissed her.  Then he
+left the room.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap09"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER IX
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+"I'm worse to-day," said Sir Jeremy, looking at Harry, "and I'll be off
+under a month."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He seemed rather pathetic&mdash;the brave look had gone from his eyes, and
+his face and hands were more shrivelled than ever.  He gave the
+impression of cowering in bed as though wishing to avoid a blow.  Harry
+was with him continually now, and the old man was never happy if his
+son was not there.  He rambled at times and fancied himself back in his
+youth again.  Harry had found his father's room a refuge from the
+family, and he sat, hour after hour, watching the old man asleep,
+thinking of his own succession and puzzling over the hopeless tangle
+that seemed to surround him.  How to get out of it!  He had no longer
+any thought of turning his back; he had gone too far for that, and they
+would think it cowardice, but things couldn't remain as they were.
+What would come out of it?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had, as Robin had said, changed.  The effect of the explosion had
+been to reveal in him qualities whose very existence he had formerly
+never expected.  He even found, strangely enough, a kind of joy in the
+affair.  It was like playing a game.  He had made, he felt, the right
+move and was in the stronger position.  In earlier days he had never
+been able to quarrel with any one.  Whenever such a thing had happened,
+he had been the first to make overtures; he hated the idea of an enemy,
+his happiness depended on his friends, and sometimes now, when he saw
+his own people's hostility, he was near surrender.  But the memory of
+his sister's words had held him firm, and now he was beginning to feel
+in tune with the situation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He watched Robin furtively at times and wondered how he was taking it
+all.  Sometimes he fancied that he caught glances that pointed to
+Robin's own desire to see how <I>he</I> was taking it.  Once they had passed
+on the stairs, and for a moment they had both paused as though they
+would speak.  It had been all Harry could do to restrain himself from
+flinging his arms on to his son's shoulders and shaking him for a fool
+and then forcing him into surrender, but he had held himself back, and
+they had passed on without a word.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After all, what children they all were!  That's what it came
+to&mdash;children playing a game that they did not understand!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I wish it would end," said Sir Jeremy; "I'm getting damned sick of it.
+Why can't he take you out straight away, and be done with it?  Do you
+know, Harry, my boy, I think I'm frightened.  It's lying here thinking
+of it.  I never had much imagination&mdash;it isn't a Trojan habit, but it
+grows on one.  I fancy&mdash;well, what's the use o' talking?" and he sank
+back into his pillows again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The room was dark save for the leaping light of the fire.  It was
+almost time to dress for dinner, but Harry sat there, forgetting time
+and place in the unchanging question, How would it all work out?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By Gad, it's Tom!  Hullo, old man, I was just thinking of you.  Comin'
+round to Horrocks' to-night for a game?  Supper at Galiani's&mdash;but it's
+damned cold.  I don't know where that sun's got to.  I've been
+wandering up and down the street all day and I can't find the place.
+I've forgotten the number&mdash;I can't remember whether it was 23 or 33,
+and I keep getting into that passage.  There I am again!  Bring a
+light, old man&mdash;it's so dark.  What's that?  Who's there?  Can't you
+answer?  Darn you, come out, you&mdash;&mdash;"  He sat up in bed, quivering all
+over.  Harry put his hand on his arm.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's all right, father," he said.  "No one's here&mdash;only myself."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ugh!  I was dreaming&mdash;" he answered, lying down again.  "Let's have
+some light&mdash;not that electric glare.  Candles!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry was sitting in the corner by the bed away from the fire.  He was
+about to rise and move the candles into a clump on the mantelpiece when
+there was a tap on the door and some one came in.  It was Robin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Grandfather, are you awake?  Aunt Clare told me to look in on my way
+up to dress and see if you wanted anything?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The firelight was on his face.  He looked very young as he stood there
+by the bed.  His face was flushed in the light of the fire.  Harry's
+heart beat furiously, but he made no movement and said no word.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin bent over the bed to catch his grandfather's answer, and he saw
+his father.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I beg your pardon."  he stammered.  "I didn't know&mdash;&mdash;"  He waited for
+a moment as though he were going to say something, or expected his
+father to speak.  Then he turned and left the room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let's have the candles," said Sir Jeremy, as though he had not noticed
+the interruption, and Harry lit them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The old man sank off to sleep again, and Harry fell back into his own
+gloomy thoughts once more.  They were always meeting like that, and on
+each occasion there was need for the same severe self-control.  He had
+to remind himself continually of their treatment of him, of Robin's
+coldness and reserve.  At times he cursed himself for a fool, and then
+again it seemed the only way out of the labyrinth.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His love for his son had changed its character.  He had no longer that
+desire for equality of which he had made, at first, so much.  No, the
+two generations could never see in line; he must not expect that.  But
+he thought of Robin as a boy&mdash;as a boy who had made blunders and would
+make others again, and would at last turn to his father as the only
+person who could help him.  He had fancied once or twice that he had
+already begun to turn.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Well, he would be there if Robin wanted him.  He had decided to speak
+to Mary about it.  Her clear common-sense point of view seemed to
+drive, like the sun, through the mists of his obscurity; she always saw
+straight through things&mdash;never round them&mdash;and her practical mind
+arrived at a quicker solution than was possible for his rather
+romantic, quixotic sentiment.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are too fond of discerning pleasant motives," she had once said to
+him.  "I daresay they are all right, but it takes such a time to see
+them."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had not seen her since the outbreak, and he was rather anxious as to
+her opinion; but the main thing was to be with her.  Since last Sunday
+he had been, he confessed to himself, absurd.  He had behaved more in
+the manner of a boy of nineteen than a middle-aged widower of
+forty-five.  He had been suddenly afraid of the Bethels&mdash;going to tea
+had seemed such an obvious advance on his part that he had shrunk from
+it, and he had even avoided Bethel lest that gentleman should imagine
+that he was on the edge of a proposal for his daughter's hand.  He
+thought that all the world must know of it, and he blushed like a girl
+at the thought of its being laid bare for Pendragon to laugh and gibe
+it.  It was so precious, so wonderful, that he kept it, like a rich
+piece of jewellery, deep in a secret drawer, over which he watched
+delightedly, almost humorously, secure in the delicious knowledge that
+he alone had the key.  He wandered out at night, like a foolish
+schoolboy, to watch the lamp in her room&mdash;that dull circle of golden
+light against the blind seemed to draw him with it into the intimacy
+and security of her room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On one of his solitary afternoon walks he suddenly came upon her.  He
+had gone, as he so often did, over the moor to the Four Stones; he
+chose that place partly because of the Stones themselves and partly
+because of the wonderful view.  It seemed to him that the whole heart
+of Cornwall&mdash;its mystery, its eternal sameness, its rejection of
+everything that was modern and ephemeral, the pathos of old deserted
+altars and past gods searching for their old-time worshippers&mdash;was
+centred there.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Stones themselves stood on the hill, against the sky, gaunt, grey,
+menacing, a landmark for all the country-side.  The moor ran here into
+a valley between two lines of hill, a cup bounded on three sides by the
+hills and on the fourth by the sea.  In the spring it flamed, a bowl of
+fire, with the gorse; now it stood grim and naked to all the winds,
+blue in the distant hills, a deep red to the right, where the plough
+had been, brown and grey on the moor itself running down to the sea.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was full of deserted things, as is ever the way with the true
+Cornwall.  On the hill were the Stones sharp against the sky-line;
+lower down, in a bend of the valley, stood the ruins of a mine, the
+shaft and chimney, desolately solitary, looking like the pillars of
+some ancient temple that had been fashioned by uncouth worshippers.  In
+the valley itself stood the stones of what was once a chapel&mdash;built,
+perhaps, for the men of the desolate mine, inhabited now by rabbits and
+birds, its windows spaces where the winds that swept the moor could
+play their eternal, restless games.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On a day of clouds there was no colour on the moor, but when the sun
+was out great bands of light swept its surface, playing on the Stones
+and changing them to marble, striking colour from the mine and filling
+the chapel with gold.  But the sun did not reach that valley on many
+days when the rest of the world was alight&mdash;it was as if it respected
+the loneliness of its monuments and the pathos of them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry sat on the side of the hill, below the Stones, and watched the
+sea.  At times a mist came and hid it; on sunny days, when the sky was
+intensely blue, there hung a dazzling haze like a golden veil and he
+could only tell that the sea was there by the sudden gleam of tiny
+white horses, flashing for a moment on the mirror of blue and shining
+through the haze; sometimes a gull swerved through the air above his
+head as though a wave had lost its bounds and, for sheer joy of the
+beautiful day, had flung itself tossing and wheeling into the air.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But to-day was a day of wind and rapidly sailing clouds, and myriads of
+white horses curved and tossed and vanished over the shifting colours
+of the sea; there were wonderful shadows of dark blue and purple and
+green of such depth that they seemed unfathomable.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly he saw Mary coming towards him.  A scarf&mdash;green like the green
+of the sea&mdash;was tied round her hat and under her chin and floated
+behind her.  Her dress was blown against her body, and she walked as
+though she loved the battling with the wind.  Her face was flushed with
+the struggle, and she had come up to him before she saw that he was
+there.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now, that's luck," she said, laughing, as she sat down beside him;
+"I've been wanting to see you ever since yesterday afternoon, but you
+seemed to have hidden yourself.  It doesn't sound a very long time,
+does it?  But I've something to tell you&mdash;rather important."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What?" He looked at her and suddenly laughed.  "What a splendid place
+for us to meet&mdash;its solitude is almost unreal."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"As to solitude," she said calmly, pointing down the valley.  "There's
+Tracy Corridor; it will be all over the Club to-night&mdash;he's been
+watching us for some time"; a long thin youth, his head turned in their
+direction, had passed down the footpath towards its ruined chapel, and
+was rapidly vanishing in the direction of Pendragon.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well&mdash;let them," said Harry, shrugging his shoulders.  "You don't
+mind, do you?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not a bit," she answered lightly.  "They've discussed the Bethel
+family so frequently and with such vigour that a little more or less
+makes no difference whatsoever.  Pendragon taboo! we won't dishonour
+the sea by such a discussion in its sacred presence."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you want to tell me?" he asked, watching delightedly the
+colour of her face, the stray curls that the wind dragged from
+discipline and played games with, the curve of her wrist as her hand
+lay idly in her lap.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, it'll keep," she said quickly.  "Never mind just yet.  Tell me
+about yourself&mdash;what's happened?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How did you know that anything had?" he asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, one can tell," she answered.  "Besides, I have felt sure that it
+would, things couldn't go on just as they were&mdash;&mdash;" she paused a moment
+and then added seriously, "I hope you don't mind my asking?  It seems a
+little impertinent&mdash;but that was part of the compact, wasn't it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, of course," he said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Because, you know," she went on, "it's really rather absurd.  I'm only
+twenty-six, and you're&mdash;oh!  I don't know <I>how</I> old!&mdash;anyhow an elderly
+widower with a grown-up son; but I'm every bit as old as you are,
+really.  And I'm sure I shall give you lots of good advice, because
+you've no idea what a truly practical person I am.  Only sometimes
+lately I've wondered whether you've been a little surprised at my&mdash;our
+flinging ourselves into your arms as we have done.  It's like
+father&mdash;he always goes the whole way in the first minute; but it isn't,
+or at any rate it oughtn't to be, like me!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are," he said quietly, "the best friend I have in the world.  How
+much that means to me I will tell you one day."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's right," she said gaily, settling herself down with her hands
+folded behind her head.  "Now for the situation.  I'm all attention."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well," he answered, "the situation is simple enough&mdash;it's the next
+move that's puzzling me.  There was, four days ago, an explosion&mdash;it
+was after breakfast&mdash;a family council&mdash;and I was in a minority of one.
+I was accused of a good many things&mdash;going down to the Cove, paying no
+attention to the Miss Ponsonbys, and so on.  They attacked me as I
+thought unfairly, and I lost control&mdash;on the whole, I am sure, wisely.
+I wasn't very rude, but I said quite plainly that I should go my own
+way in the future and would be dictated to by no one.  At any rate they
+understand that."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And now?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, now&mdash;well&mdash;it's as you would expect.  We are quite polite but
+hostile.  Robin and I don't speak.  The new game&mdash;Father and Son; or
+how to cut your nearest relations with expedition and security."  He
+laughed bitterly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I should like to shake him!" she cried, sitting up and flinging
+her arms wide, as though she were saluting the sea.  "He doesn't know,
+he doesn't understand!  Neither himself nor any one else.  Oh, I will
+talk to him some day!  But, do you know," she said, turning round to
+him, "it's been largely your fault from the beginning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I know," he answered.  "If I had only seen then what I see now.
+But how could I?  How could I tell?  But I always have been that kind
+of man, all my days&mdash;finding out things when it's too late and wanting
+to mend things that are hopelessly broken.  And then I have always been
+impulsive and enthusiastic about people.  When I meet them first, I
+mean, I like them and credit them with all the virtues, and then, of
+course, there is an awakening.  Oh, you don't know," he said, with a
+little laugh, "how enthusiastic I was when I first came back."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, I do," she answered; "that was one of the reasons I took to you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But it isn't right," he said, shaking his head.  "I've always been
+like that.  It's been the same with my friendships.  I've rated them
+too highly.  I've expected everything and then cried like a child
+because I've been disappointed.  I can see now not only the folly of
+it, but the weakness.  It is, I suppose, a mistake, caring too much for
+other people, one loses one's self-respect."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," she said, staring out to sea, "it's quite true&mdash;one does.  The
+world's too hard; it doesn't give one credit for fine feelings&mdash;it
+takes a short cut and thinks one a fool."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But the worst of it is," he went on ruefully, "that I never feel any
+older.  I have those enthusiasms and that romance in the same way now
+at forty-five&mdash;just as I did at nineteen.  I never could bear
+quarrelling with anybody.  I used to go and apologise even when it
+wasn't my fault&mdash;so that, you see, the present situation is difficult."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, but you must keep your end up," she broke in quickly.  "It's the
+only way&mdash;don't give in.  Robin is just like that.  He is self-centred,
+all shams now, and when he sees that you are taken in by them, just as
+he is himself, he despises you.  But when he sees you laugh at them or
+cut them down, then he respects you.  I'm the only person, I think,
+that knows him really here.  The others haven't grasped him at all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My father grows worse every day," Harry went on, as though pursuing
+his own train of thought.  "He can't last much longer, and when he goes
+I shall miss him terribly.  We have understood each other during this
+fortnight as we never did in all those early years.  Sometimes I funk
+it utterly&mdash;following him with all of them against me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, no," she cried.  "It's splendid.  You are in power.  They can do
+nothing, and Robin will come round when he sees how you face it out.
+Why, I expect that he's coming already.  I've faced things out here all
+these years, and you dare to say that you can't stand a few months of
+it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What have you faced?" he asked.  "Tell me exactly.  I want to know all
+about you; you've never told me very much, and it's only fair that I
+should know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," she said gravely, "it is&mdash;well, you shall!&mdash;at least a part of
+it.  A woman always keeps a little back," she said, looking at him with
+a smile.  "As soon as she ceases to be a puzzle she ceases to interest."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She turned and watched the sea.  Then, after a moment's pause, she said:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you want to know?  I can only give you bits of things&mdash;when,
+for instance, I ran away from my nurse, aged five, was picked up by an
+applewoman with a green umbrella who introduced me to three old ladies
+with black pipes and moustaches&mdash;I was found in a coal cellar.  Then we
+lived in Bloomsbury&mdash;a little house looking out on to a little green
+park&mdash;all in miniature it seems on looking back.  I don't think that I
+was a very good child, but they didn't look after me very much.  Mother
+was always out, and father in business.  Fancy," she said, laughing,
+"father in business!  We were happy then, I think, all of us.  Then
+came the terrible time when father ran away."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, yes," Harry said, "he told me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Poor mother! it was quite dreadful; I was only eight then, and I
+didn't understand.  But she sat up all night waiting for him.  She was
+persuaded that he was killed, and she was very ill.  You see he had
+never left any word as to where he was.  And then he suddenly turned up
+again, and ate an enormous breakfast, as though nothing had happened.
+I don't think he realised a bit that she had worried.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It was so like him, the naked selfishness of it and the utter
+unresponsibility, as of a child.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then I went to school&mdash;in Bloomsbury somewhere.  It was a Miss Pinker,
+and she was interested in me.  Poor thing, her school failed
+afterwards.  I don't know quite why, but she never could manage, and I
+don't think parents ever paid her.  I had great ideas of myself then; I
+thought that I would be great, an actress or a novelist, but I got rid
+of all that soon enough.  I was happy; we had friends, and luxuries
+were rare enough to make them valuable.  Then&mdash;we came down here&mdash;this
+sea, this town, this moor&mdash;Oh! how I hate them!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Her hands were clenched and her face was white.  "It isn't fair; they
+have taken everything from me&mdash;leisure, brain, friends.  I have had to
+slave ever since I came here to make both ends meet.  Ah! you never
+knew that, did you?  But father has never done a stroke of work since
+he has been here, and mother has never been the same since that night
+when he ran away; so I've had it all&mdash;and it has been scrape, scrape,
+scrape all the time.  You don't know the tyranny of butter and eggs and
+vegetables, the perpetual struggle to turn twice two into five, the
+unending worry about keeping up appearances&mdash;although, for us, it
+mattered precious little, people never came to see if appearances were
+kept.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They called at first; I think they meant to be kind, but father was
+sometimes rude and never seemed to know whether he had met a person
+before or no.  Then he was idle, they thought, and they disliked him
+for that.  We gave some little parties, but they failed miserably, and
+at last people always refused.  And, really, it was rather a good
+thing, because we hadn't got the money.  I suppose I'm a bad manager;
+at any rate, whatever it is, things have been getting worse and worse,
+and one day soon there'll be an explosion, and that will be the end.
+We're up to our eyes in debt.  I try to talk to father about it, but he
+waves it away with his hand.  They have, neither of them, the least
+idea of money.  You see, father doesn't need very much himself, except
+for buying books.  He had ten pounds last week&mdash;housekeeping money to
+be given to me; he saw an edition of something that he wanted, and the
+money was gone.  We've been living on cabbages ever since.  That's the
+kind of thing that's always happening.  I wanted to talk to him about
+things this morning, but he said that he had an important engagement.
+Now he's out on the moor somewhere flying his kite&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was leaning forward, her chin on her hand, staring out to sea.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It takes the beans out of life, doesn't it?" she said, laughing.  "You
+must think me rather a poor thing for complaining like this, only it
+does some good sometimes to get rid of it, and really at times I'm
+frightened when I think of the end, the disgrace.  If we are proclaimed
+bankrupts it will kill mother.  Father, of course, will soon get over
+it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I say&mdash;I'm so sorry."  Harry scarcely knew what to say.  She was not
+asking for sympathy; he saw precisely her position&mdash;that she was too
+proud to ask for his help, but that she must speak.  No, sympathy was
+not what she wanted.  He suddenly hated Bethel&mdash;the selfishness of it,
+the hopeless egotism.  It was, Harry decided, the fools and not the
+villains who spoilt life.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I want you to do me a favour," he said.  "I want you to promise me
+that, before the end actually comes, if it is going to come, you will
+ask me to help you.  I won't offer to do anything now&mdash;I will stand
+aside until you want me; but you won't be proud if it comes to the
+worst, will you?  Do you promise?  You see," he added, trying to laugh
+lightly, "we are chums."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," she answered quietly, "I promise.  Here's my hand on it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he took her hand in his it was all he could do to hold himself back.
+A great wave of passion seized him, his body trembled from head to
+foot, and he grew very white.  He was crying, "I love you, I love you,
+I love you," but he kept the words from his lips&mdash;he would not speak
+yet.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thank you," was all that he said, and he stood up to hide his
+agitation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For a little they did not speak.  They both felt that, in that moment,
+they had touched on things that were too sacred for speech; he seemed
+so strong, so splendid in her eyes, as he stood there, facing the sea,
+that she was suddenly afraid.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let us go back," she said.  They turned down the crooked path towards
+the ruined chapel.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What was the news that you had for me?" he asked suddenly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, of course," she answered; "I meant to have told you before."
+Then, more gravely, "It's about Robin&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"About Robin?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes.  I don't know really whether I ought to tell you, because, after
+all, it's only chatter and mother never gets stories right&mdash;she manages
+to twist them into the most amazing shapes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No.  Tell me," he insisted.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well&mdash;there's a person whom mother knows&mdash;Mrs. Feverel.  Odious to my
+mind, but mother sees something of her."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A lady?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No&mdash;by no means; a gloomy, forbidding person who would like to get a
+footing here if she could, and is discontented because people won't
+know her.  You see," she added, "we can only know the people that other
+people don't know.  This Mrs. Feverel has a daughter&mdash;rather a pretty
+girl, about eighteen&mdash;I should think she might be rather nice.  I am a
+little sorry for her&mdash;there isn't a father.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well&mdash;these people have, in some way, entangled Robin.  I don't quite
+know the right side of it, but mother was having tea with Mrs. Feverel
+yesterday afternoon and that good woman hinted a great deal at the
+power that she now had over your family.  For some time she was
+mysterious, but at last she unburdened herself.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Apparently, Master Robin had been making advances to the girl in the
+summer, and now wants to back out of it.  He had, I gather, written
+letters, and it was to these that Mrs. Feverel was referring&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry drew a long breath.  "I'm damned," he said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, of course, I don't know," she went on; "you see, it may have been
+garbled.  Mrs. Feverel is, I should think, just the person to hint
+suspicions for which there's no ground at all.  Only it won't do if
+she's going to whisper to every one in Pendragon&mdash;I thought you ought
+to be warned&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry was thinking hard.  "The young fool," he said.  "But it's just
+what I've been wanting.  This is just where I can come in.  I knew
+something has been worrying him lately.  I could see it.  I believe
+he's been in two minds as to telling me&mdash;only he's been too proud.
+But, of course, he will have to tell some one.  A youngster like that
+is no match for a girl and her mother of the class these people seem to
+be.  He will confide in his aunt&mdash;"  He stopped and burst into
+uncontrollable laughter.  "Oh!  The humour of it&mdash;don't you see?
+They'll be terrified&mdash;it will threaten the honour of the House.  They
+will all go running round to get the letters back; that girl will have
+a good time&mdash;and that, of course, is just where I come in."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't see," said Mary.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, it's just what I've been watching for.  Harry Trojan
+arrives&mdash;Harry Trojan is no good&mdash;Harry Trojan is despised&mdash;but
+suddenly he holds the key to the situation.  Presto!  The family on
+their knees&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mary looked at him in astonishment.  It was, she thought, unlike him to
+exult like this over the misfortunes of his sister; she was a little
+disappointed.  "It is really rather serious," she said, "for your
+sister, I mean.  You know what Pendragon is.  If they once get wind of
+the affair there will be a great deal of talk."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, yes!" he said gravely.  "You mustn't think me a brute for laughing
+like that.  But I'm thinking of Robin.  If you knew how I cared for the
+boy&mdash;what this means.  Why, it brings him to my feet&mdash;if I carry the
+thing out properly."  Then quickly, "You don't think they've got back
+the letters already?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They haven't had time&mdash;unless they've gone to-day.  Besides, the
+girl's not likely to give them up easily.  But, of course, I don't
+really know if that's how the case lies&mdash;mother's account was very
+confused.  Only I am certain that Mrs. Feverel thinks she has a pull
+somewhere; and she said something about letters."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will go at once," Harry said, walking quickly.  "I can never be
+grateful enough to you.  Where do they live?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"10 Seaview Terrace," she answered.  "A little dingy street past the
+church and Breadwater Place&mdash;it faces the sea."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And the girl&mdash;what is she like?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've only seen her about twice.  I should say tall, thin, dark&mdash;rather
+wonderful eyes in a very pale face; dresses rather well in an aesthetic
+kind of way."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He said very little more, and she did not interrupt his thoughts.  She
+was surprised to find that she was a little jealous of Robin, the
+interest in her own affairs had been very sweet to her, the remembrance
+of it now sent the blood to her cheeks, but this news seemed to have
+driven his thought for her entirely out of his head.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly, at the bend of the little lane leading up to the town, they
+came upon her father, flying a huge blue kite.  The kite soared above
+his head; he watched it, his body bent back, his arm straining at the
+cord.  He saw them and pulled it in.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hullo!  Trojan, how are you?  You ought to do this.  It's the most
+splendid fun&mdash;you've no idea.  This wind is glorious.  I shan't be home
+till dark, Mary&mdash;&mdash;" and they left him, laughing like a boy.  She gave
+him further directions as to the house, and they parted.  She felt a
+little lonely as she watched him hurrying down the street.  He seemed
+to have forgotten her completely.  "Mary Bethel, you're a selfish pig,"
+she said, as she climbed the stairs to her room.  "Of course, he cares
+more about his son&mdash;why not?"  But nevertheless she sighed, and then
+went down to make tea for her mother, who was tired and on the verge of
+tears.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap10"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER X
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+As he passed through the town all his thoughts were of his splendid
+fortune.  This was the very thing for which he had been hoping, the key
+to all his difficulties.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The dusk was creeping down the streets.  A silver star hung over the
+roofs silhouetted black against the faint blue of the night sky.  The
+lamps seemed to wage war with the departing daylight; the after-glow of
+the setting sun fluttered valiantly for a little, and then, yielding
+its place to the stronger golden circles stretching like hanging moons
+down the street, vanished.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The shops were closing.  Worthley's Hosiery was putting up the shutters
+and a boy stood in the doorway, yawning; there had been a sale and the
+shop was tired.  Midgett's Bookshop at the corner of the High Street
+was still open and an old man with spectacles and a flowing beard stood
+poring over the odd-lot box at 2d. a volume by the door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The young man who advised ladies as to the purchase of six-shilling
+novels waited impatiently.  He had hoped to be off by six to-night.  He
+had an appointment at seven&mdash;and now this old man....  "We close at
+six, sir," he said.  But the old gentleman did not hear.  He bent lower
+and lower until his beard almost swept the pavement.  Harry passed on.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+All these things passed like shadows before Harry; he noticed them, but
+they fitted into the pattern of his thoughts, forming a frame round his
+great central idea&mdash;that at last he had his chance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was no fear in his mind that he would not get the letters.  There
+was, of course, the chance that Clare had been before him, but then, as
+Mary had said, she had scarcely had time, and it was not likely that
+the girl would give them up easily.  It was just possible, too, that
+the whole affair was a mistake, that Mrs. Feverel had merely boasted
+for the sake of impressing old Mrs. Bethel, that there was little or
+nothing behind it, but that was unlikely.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had formed no definite decision as to the method of his attack; he
+must wait and see how the land lay.  A great deal depended on the
+presence of the mother&mdash;the girl, too, might be so many different
+things; he was not even certain of her age.  If there was nothing in
+it, he would look a fool, but he must risk that.  A wild idea came into
+his head that he might, perhaps, find Clare there&mdash;that would be
+amusing.  He imagined them bidding for the letters, and that brought
+him to the point that money would be necessary&mdash;well, he was ready to
+pay a good deal, for it was Robin for whom he was bidding.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He found the street without any difficulty.  Its dinginess was obvious,
+and now, with a little wind whistling round its corners and whirling
+eddies of dust in the road, its three lamps at long distances down the
+street, the monotonous beat of the sea beyond the walls, it was
+depressing and sad.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It reminded him of the street in Auckland where he had heard the
+strange voice; it was just such another moment now&mdash;the silence bred
+expectancy and the sea was menacing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I shall get the shivers if I don't move," he said, and rang the bell.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The slatternly servant that he had expected to see answered the bell,
+and the tap-tap of her down-at-heels slippers sounded along the passage
+as she departed to see if Mrs. Feverel would see him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He waited in the draughty hall; it was so dark that coats and hats
+loomed, ghostly shapes, by the farther wall.  A door opened, there was
+sound of voices&mdash;a moment's pause, then the door closed and the maid
+appeared at the head of the stairs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The missis says you can come up," she said ungraciously.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She eyed him curiously as he passed her, and scented drama in the set
+of his shoulders and the twitch of his fingers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A military!" she concluded, and tap-tapped down again into the kitchen.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A low fire was burning in the grate and the blind napped against the
+window.  The draught blew the everlastings on the mantelpiece together
+with a little dry, dusty sound like the rustle of a breeze in dried
+twigs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Feverel sat bending over the fire, and he thought as he saw her
+that it would need a very great fire indeed to put any warmth into her.
+Her black hair, parted in the middle, was bound back tightly over her
+head and confined by a net.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She shook hands with him solemnly, and then waited as though she
+expected an explanation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry smiled.  "I'm afraid, Mrs. Feverel," he said, "that you may think
+this extraordinary.  I can only offer as apology your acquaintance with
+my son."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah yes&mdash;Mr. Robert Trojan."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Her mouth closed with a snap and she waited, with her hands folded on
+her lap, for him to say something further.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You knew him, I think, at Cambridge in the summer?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, my daughter and I were there in the summer."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry paused.  It would be harder than he expected, and where was the
+daughter?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Cambridge is very pleasant in the summer?" he asked, his resolution
+weakening rapidly before her impassivity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My daughter and I found it so.  But, of course, it depends&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It depended, he reflected, on such people as his son&mdash;boys whom they
+could cheat at their ease.  He had no doubt at all now that the mother
+was an adventuress of the common, melodrama type.  He suspected the
+girl of being the same.  It made things in some ways much simpler,
+because money would, probably, settle everything; there would be no
+question of fine feelings.  He knew exactly how to deal with such
+women, he had known them in New Zealand; but he was amused as he
+contemplated Clare's certain failure&mdash;such a woman was entirely outside
+her experience.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He came to the point at once.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My being here is easily explained.  I learn, Mrs. Feverel, that my son
+formed an attachment for your daughter during last summer.  He wrote
+some letters now in your daughter's possession.  His family are
+naturally anxious that those letters should be returned.  I have come
+to see what can be done about the matter."  He paused&mdash;but she said
+nothing, and remained motionless by the fire.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Perhaps," he said slowly, "you would prefer, Mrs. Feverel, to name a
+possible price yourself?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Afterwards, on looking back, he felt that his expectations had been
+perfectly justified; she had, up to that point, given him every reason
+to take the line that he adopted.  She had listened to the first part
+of his speech without remark; she must, he reflected afterwards, have
+known what was coming, yet she had given no sign that she heard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And so the change in her was startling and took him utterly by surprise.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She looked up at him from her chair, and the thin ghost of a smile that
+crept round the corners of her mouth, faced him for a moment, and then
+vanished suddenly, was the strangest thing that he had ever seen.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't you think, Mr. Trojan, that that is a little insulting?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It made him feel utterly ashamed.  In her own house, in her
+drawing-room, he had offered her money.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I beg your pardon," he stammered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," she answered slowly.  "You had rather misconceived the
+situation."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry felt that her silences were the most eloquent that he had ever
+known.  He began to be very frightened, and, for the first time,
+conceived the possibility of not securing the letters at all.  The
+thought that his hopes might be dashed to the ground, that he might be
+no nearer his goal at the end of the interview than before, sharpened
+his wits.  It was to be a deal in subtlety rather than the obvious
+thing that he had expected&mdash;well, he would play it to the end.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I beg your pardon," he said again.  "I have been extremely rude.  I am
+only recently returned from abroad, and my knowledge of the whole
+affair is necessarily very limited.  I came here with a very vague idea
+both as to yourself and your intentions.  In drawing the conclusions
+that I did I have done both you and your daughter a grave injustice,
+for which I humbly apologise.  I may say that, before coming here, I
+had had no interview with my son.  I am, therefore, quite ignorant as
+regards facts."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He did not feel that his apology had done much good.  He felt that she
+had accepted both his insult and apology quite calmly, as though she
+had regarded them inevitably.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The facts," she said, looking down again at the fire, "are quite
+simple.  My daughter and your son became acquainted at Cambridge in May
+last.  They saw a great deal of each other during the next few months.
+At the end of that time they were engaged.  Mr. Robert Trojan gave us
+to understand that he was about to acquaint his family with the fact.
+They corresponded continually during the summer&mdash;letters, I believe, of
+the kind common to young people in love.  Mr. Robert Trojan spoke
+continually of the marriage and suggested dates.  We then came down
+here, and, soon after our arrival, I perceived a change in your son's
+attitude.  He came to see us very rarely, and at last ceased his visits
+altogether.  My daughter was naturally extremely upset, and there were
+several rather painful interviews.  He then wrote returning her letters
+and demanding the return of his own.  This she definitely refused.
+Those are the facts, Mr. Trojan."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had spoken without any emotion, and evidently expected that he
+should do the same.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have come," he said, "on behalf of my son to demand the return of
+those letters."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Demand?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Naturally.  Letters, Mrs. Feverel, of that kind are dangerous things
+to leave about."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes?"  She smiled.  "Dangerous for whom?  I think you forget a little,
+Mr. Trojan, in your anxiety for your son's welfare, my daughter's side
+of the question.  She naturally treasures what represents to her the
+happiest months of her existence.  You must remember that your son's
+conduct&mdash;shall I call it desertion?&mdash;was a terrible blow.  She loved
+him, Mr. Trojan, with all her heart.  Is it not right that he should
+suffer a little as well?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I refuse to believe," he answered sharply, "that this is all a matter
+of sentiment.  I regret extremely that my son should have behaved in
+such a cowardly and dastardly manner&mdash;it has hurt and surprised me more
+than I can say&mdash;but, were that all, it were surely better to bury the
+whole affair as soon as may be.  I cannot believe that you are keeping
+the letters with no intention of making public use of them."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah," said Mrs. Feverel, "I wonder."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hadn't we better come to a clear understanding, Mrs. Feverel?" he
+asked.  "We are neither of us children, and this beating about the bush
+serves no purpose whatever.  If you refuse to return the letters, I
+have at least the right to ask what you mean to do with them."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Here is my daughter," she answered, "she shall speak for herself."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He turned round at the sound of the opening door, and watched her as
+she came in.  She was very much as he had imagined&mdash;thin and tall,
+walking straight from the hips, giving a little the impression that she
+was standing on her toes.  Her eyes seemed amazingly dark in the
+whiteness of her face.  She seemed a little older than he had
+expected&mdash;perhaps twenty-five or twenty-six.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She looked at him sharply as she entered and then came forward to her
+mother.  He could see that she was agitated&mdash;her breath came quickly,
+and her hands folded and unfolded as though she were tearing something
+to pieces.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"This," said Mrs. Feverel, "is my daughter, Mr. Trojan.  My dear, Mr.
+Henry Trojan."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She bowed and sat down opposite her mother.  He thought she looked
+rather pathetic as she faced him; here was no adventuress, no schemer.
+He began to feel that his son had behaved brutally, outrageously.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Feverel rose.  "I will leave you, my dear.  Mr. Trojan will tell
+you for what he has come."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She moved slowly from the room and Harry drew a breath of relief at her
+absence.  There was a moment's pause.  "I hope you will forgive me,
+Miss Feverel," he said gently.  "I'm afraid that both your mother and
+yourself must regard this as impertinent, but, at the same time, I
+think you will understand."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She seemed to have regained her composure.  "It is about Robin, I
+suppose?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes.  Could you tell me exactly what the relations between you were?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We were engaged," she answered simply, "last summer at Cambridge.  He
+broke off the engagement."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;but I understand that you intend to keep his letters?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is quite true."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have come to ask you to restore them."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am sorry.  I am afraid that it is a waste of time.  I shall not go
+back on my word."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He could not understand what her game was&mdash;he was not sure that she had
+a game at all; she seemed very helpless, and, at the same time, he felt
+that there was strength behind her answers.  He was at a loss; his
+experience was of no value to him at all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am going to beg you to alter your decision.  I am pleading with you
+in a matter that is of the utmost importance to me.  Robin is my only
+son.  He has behaved abominably, and you can understand that it has
+been rather a blow to me to return after twenty years' absence and find
+him engaged in such an affair.  But he is very young, and&mdash;pardon
+me&mdash;so are you.  I am an older man and my experience of the world is
+greater than yours; believe me when I say that you will regret
+persistence in your refusal most bitterly in later years.  It seems to
+me a crisis&mdash;a crisis, perhaps, for all of us.  Take an older man's
+word for it; there is only one possible course for you to adopt."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Really, Mr. Trojan," she said, laughing, "you are intensely serious.
+Last week I thought that my heart was broken; but now&mdash;well, it takes a
+lot to break a heart.  I am sure that you will be glad to hear that my
+appetite has returned.  As to the letters&mdash;why, think how pleasant it
+will be for me to sentimentalise over them in my old age!  Surely, that
+is sufficient motive."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was trying to speak lightly, but her lip quivered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are running a serious risk, Miss Feverel," he answered gravely.
+"Your intention is, I imagine, to punish Robin.  I can assure you that
+in a few years' time he will be punished enough.  He scarcely realises
+as yet what he has done.  That knowledge will come to him later."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Poor Robin!" she said.  "Yes, he ought to feel rather a worm now; he
+has written me several very agitated letters.  But really I cannot help
+it.  The affair is over&mdash;done with.  I regard the letters as my
+personal property.  I cannot see that it is any one else's business at
+all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course it is our business," he answered seriously.  "Those letters
+must be destroyed.  I do not accuse you of any deliberate malicious
+intentions, but there is, as far as I can see, only one motive in your
+keeping them.  I have not seen them, but from what I have heard I
+gather that they contain definite promise of marriage.  Your case is a
+strong one."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," she laughed.  "Poor Robin's enthusiasm led him to some very
+violent expressions of affection.  But, Mr. Trojan, revenge is sweet.
+Every woman, I think, likes it, and I am no exception to my sex.
+Aren't you a little unfair in claiming all the pleasure and none of the
+pain?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," he answered firmly.  "I am not.  It is as much for your own sake
+as for his that I am making my claim.  You cannot see things in fair
+proportion now; you will bitterly regret the step you contemplate
+taking."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I am sure," she replied, "it is very good of you to think of me
+like that.  I am deeply touched&mdash;you seem to take quite a fatherly
+interest."  She lay back in her chair and watched him with eyes half
+closed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was beginning to believe that it was no pose after all, and his
+anger rose.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Come, Miss Feverel," he said, "let's have done with playing&mdash;let us
+come to terms.  It is a matter of vital importance that I should
+receive the letters.  I am ready to go some lengths to obtain them.
+What are your terms?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She flushed a little.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Isn't that a little rude, Mr. Trojan?" she said.  "It is of course the
+melodramatic attitude.  It was not long ago that I saw a play in which
+letters figured.  Pistols were fired, and the heroine wore red plush.
+Is that to be our style now?  I am sorry that I cannot oblige you.
+There are no pistols, but I will tell you frankly that it is no
+question of terms.  I refuse, under any circumstances whatever, to
+return the letters."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is your absolute decision?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My absolute decision."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He got up and stood, for a moment, by her chair.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My dear," he said, "you do not know what you are doing.  You are
+disappointed, you are insulted&mdash;you think that you will have your
+revenge at all costs.  You do not know now, but you will discover
+later, that it has been no revenge at all.  It will be the most
+regretted action of your life.  You have a great chance; you are going
+to throw it away.  I am sorry, because you are not, I think, at all
+that sort of girl."  He paused a moment.  "Well, there is no more to be
+said.  I am sorry as much for your sake as my own.  Good-bye."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He moved to the door.  The disappointment was almost more than he could
+bear.  He did not know how strong his hopes had been; and now he must
+return with things as they were before, with the added knowledge that
+his son had behaved like a cad, and that the world would soon know.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Good-bye," he said again and turned round towards her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She rose from her chair and tried to smile.  She said something that he
+could not catch, and then, suddenly, to his intense astonishment, she
+flung herself back into her chair again, hid her face in her hands, and
+burst into uncontrollable tears.  He stood irresolute, and then came
+back and waited by the fireplace.  He thought it was the most desolate
+thing that he had ever known&mdash;the flapping of the blind against the
+window, the dry rustling of the leaves on the mantel-piece, only
+accentuated the sound of her sobbing.  He let her cry and then, at
+last&mdash;"I am a brute," he said.  "I am sorry&mdash;I will go away."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No."  She sat up and began to dry her eyes with her handkerchief.
+"Don't go&mdash;it was absurd of me to give way like that; I thought that I
+had got over all that, but one is so silly&mdash;one never can tell&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He sat down again and waited.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You see," she went on, "I had liked you, always, from the first moment
+that I saw you.  You were different from the others&mdash;quite
+different&mdash;and after Robin had behaved&mdash;as he did&mdash;I distrusted every
+one.  I thought they were all like that, except you.  You do not know
+what people have done to us here.  We have had no friends; they have
+all despised us, especially your family.  And Robin said&mdash;well, lots of
+things that hurt.  That I was not good enough and that his aunt would
+not like me.  And then, of course, when I saw that, if I kept the
+letters, I could make them all unhappy&mdash;why, of course, I kept them.
+It was natural, wasn't it?  But I didn't want to hurt you&mdash;I felt that
+all the time; and when I saw you here when I came in, I was afraid,
+because I hardly knew what to do.  I thought I would show you that I
+wasn't weak and foolish as you thought me&mdash;the kind of girl that Robin
+could throw over so easily without thinking twice about it&mdash;and so I
+meant to hold out.  There&mdash;and now, of course, you think me hateful."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He sat down by her and took her hand.  "It's all rather ridiculous,
+isn't it?" he said.  "I'm old enough to be your father, but I'm just
+where you are, really.  We've all been learning this last
+fortnight&mdash;you and Robin, and I&mdash;and all learning the same thing.  It's
+been a case," he hesitated for a word, "of calf-love, for all three of
+us.  Don't regret Robin; he's not worth it.  Why, you are worth twenty
+of him, and he'll know that later on.  I'm afraid that sounds
+patronising," he added, laughing.  "But I'm humble really.  Never mind
+the letters.  You shall do what you like with them and I will trust
+you.  You are not," he repeated, "that sort of girl.  Why, dash it!" he
+suddenly added, "Robin doesn't know what he has lost."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah!" she said, blushing, "it wouldn't have done.  I can see that
+now&mdash;but I can see so many things that I couldn't see before.  I wish I
+had known a man like you&mdash;then I might have learnt earlier; but I had
+nobody, nobody at all, and I nearly made a mess of things.  But it
+isn't too late!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Too late!  Why, no!" he answered.  "I'm only beginning now, and I'm
+forty-five.  I, too, have learned a lot in this fortnight."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She looked at him anxiously for a moment.  "They don't like you, do
+they?  Robin and the others?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," he answered; "I don't think they do."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I know," she said quickly; "I heard from Robin, and I'm sorry.  You
+must have had a bad time.  But why, if they have been like that, do you
+want the letters?  They have treated us both in the same way."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, yes," he answered.  "Only Robin is my son.  That, you see, is my
+great affair.  I care for him more than for anything in the world, and
+if I had the letters&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, of course," she cried, "I see&mdash;it gives you the pull.  Why, how
+blind I've been!  It's splendid!"  She sprang up, and went to a small
+writing-desk by the window; she unlocked a drawer and returned with a
+small packet in her hand.  "There," she said, "there they are.  They
+are not many, are they, for such a big fuss?  But I think that I meant
+you to have them all the time&mdash;from the first moment that I saw you.  I
+had hoped that you would ask for them&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He took the letters, held them in his hand for a moment, and then
+slipped them into his pocket.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thank you," he said, "I shall not forget."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nor I," she answered.  "We are, I suppose, ships that pass in the
+night.  We have just shared for a moment an experience, and it has
+changed both of us a little.  But sometimes remember me, will you?
+Perhaps you would write?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, of course," he answered, "I shall want to know how things turn
+out.  What will you do?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't know.  We will go away from here, of course.  Go back to
+London, I expect&mdash;and I will get some work.  There are lots of things
+to do, and I shall be happy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I hope," he said, "that the real thing is just beginning for both of
+us."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She stood by the window looking out into the street.  "It makes things
+different if you believe in me," she said.  "It will give one courage.
+I had begun to think that there was no one in the world who cared."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Be plucky," he said.  "Work's the only thing.  It is because we've
+both been idle here that we're worried.  Don't think any more of Robin.
+He isn't good enough for you yet; he'll learn, like the rest of us; but
+he'll have to go through something first.  You'll find a better man."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Poor Robin," she said.  "Be kind to him!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He took her hand for a moment, smiled, and was gone.  She watched him
+from the window.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He looked back at her and smiled again.  Then he passed the corner of
+the street.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"So that's the end!"  She turned back from the window.  "Now for a
+beginning!"
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap11"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER XI
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Garrett Trojan had considered the matter for two days and had come to
+no conclusion.  His manner of considering anything was peculiar.  He
+loved procrastination and coloured future events with such beautiful
+radiancy that, when they actually came, the shock of finding them only
+drab was so terrible that he avoided them altogether.  He was, however,
+saved from any lasting pain and disappointment because he had been
+given, from early childhood, that splendid gift of discovering himself
+to be the continual hero of a continual play.  It was not only that he
+could make no move in life at all without being its hero&mdash;that, of
+course, was pleasant enough; but that it was always a fresh discovery
+was truly the amazing thing.  He was able to wake up, as it were, and
+discover afresh, every day of his life, what a hero he was; this was
+never monotonous, never wearisome.  He played the game anew from day to
+day&mdash;and the best part of the game was not knowing that it was a game
+at all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It must be admitted that he only maintained the illusion by keeping
+somewhat apart from his fellow-men&mdash;too frequent contact must have
+destroyed his dreams.  But his aloofness was termed preserving his
+individuality, and in the well-curtained library, in carpet-slippers
+and a smoking-jacket, he built his own monument with infinite care
+before an imaginary crowd in an imaginary city of dreams.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There were times, of course, when he was a little uneasy.  He had heard
+men titter at the Club: Clare had, occasionally, spoken plain words as
+to his true position in the House, and he had even, at times, doubts as
+to the permanent value of the book on which he was engaged.  During
+these awful moments he gazed through the rent curtain into a valley of
+dead men's bones ruled by a dreary god who had no knowledge of Garrett
+Trojan and cared very little for the fortunes of the Trojan House.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But a diligent application to the storehouses of his memory produced
+testimonials dragged, for the most part, from reluctant adherents which
+served to prove that Garrett Trojan was a great man and the head of a
+great family.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He would, however, like some definite act to prove conclusively that he
+was head.  He had, at times, the unhappy suspicion that an outsider,
+regarding the matter superficially, might be led to conclude that Clare
+held command.  He found that if he interfered at all in family matters
+this suspicion was immediately strengthened, and so he confined himself
+to his room and watered diligently the somewhat stinted crop of
+Illusions.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Nevertheless he felt the necessity of some prominent action that would
+still for ever his suspicions of incompetence, and would afford him a
+sure foundation on which to build his palace of self-complacency and
+personal appreciation.  During his latter years he had regarded himself
+as his father's probable successor.  Harry had seemed a very long way
+off in New Zealand, and became, eventually, an improbable myth, for
+Garrett had that happy quality bestowed on the ostrich of sticking his
+head into the sand of imagination and boastfully concluding that facts
+were not there.  Harry was a fact, but by continuously asserting that
+New Zealand was a long way off and that Harry would never come back,
+Harry's existence became a very pleasant fairy-story, like nautical
+tales of the sea-serpent and the Bewitching Mermaid.  They might be
+there, and it was very pleasant to listen to stories about them, but
+they had no real bearing on life as he knew it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry's return had, of course, shattered this bubble, and Garrett had
+had to yield all hopes of eventual succession.  He had, on the whole,
+borne it very well, and had come to the conclusion that succeeding his
+father would have entailed the performance of many wearisome duties;
+but that future being denied him, it was more than ever necessary to
+seize some opportunity of personal distinction.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The discussion as to the destruction of the Cove had seemed to offer
+him every chance of attaining a prominent position.  The matter had
+grown in importance every day.  Pendragon had divided into two separate
+and sharply-distinguished camps, one standing valiantly by its standard
+of picturesque tradition and its hatred of modern noise and
+materialism, the other asserting loudly its love of utility and
+progress, derisively pointing the finger of scorn at old-world
+Conservatism run mad and an incredible affection for defective
+drainage.  Garrett had flung himself heart and soul (as he said) into
+the latter of these parties, and, feeling that this was a chance of
+distinction that fortune was not likely to offer him again in the near
+future, appeared frequently at discussions and even on one occasion in
+the Town Hall spoke.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he was surprised and disappointed; he found that he had nothing to
+say, the truth being that he was much more interested in Garrett than
+in the Cove, and that his audience had come to listen to the second of
+these two subjects rather than the first.  He found himself shelved; he
+was most politely told that he was not wanted, and he retired into his
+carpet-slippers again after one of those terrible quarters of an hour
+when he peeped past the curtain and saw a miserable, naked puppet
+shivering in a grey world, and that puppet was Garrett Trojan.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then suddenly a second opportunity presented itself.  Robin's trouble
+was unexpectedly reassuring.  This, he told himself, was the very
+thing.  If he could only prove to the world that he had dealt
+successfully with practical matters in a practical way, he need never
+worry again.  Let him deal with this affair promptly and resourcefully,
+as a man of the world and a true Trojan, and his position was assured.
+He must obtain the letters and at once.  He spent several pleasant
+hours picturing the scene in which he returned the letters to Robin.
+He knew precisely the moment, the room, the audience that he would
+choose&mdash;he had decided on the words that he would speak, but he was not
+sure yet as to how he would obtain the letters.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He thought over it for three days and came to no conclusion.  It ought
+not to be difficult; the girl was probably one of those common
+adventuresses of whom one heard so often.  He had never actually met
+one&mdash;they did not suit carpet-slippers&mdash;but one knew how to deal with
+them.  It was merely a matter of tact and <I>savoir-faire</I>.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Yes, it would be fun when he flourished the letters in the face of the
+family; how amazed Clare would be and how it would please Robin!&mdash;and
+then he suddenly awoke to the fact that time was getting on, and that
+he had done nothing.  And, after all, there were only two possible
+lines of action&mdash;to write or to seek a personal interview.  Of these he
+infinitely preferred the first.  He need not leave his room, he could
+direct operations from his arm-chair, and he could preserve that
+courtesy and decorum that truly befitted a Trojan.  But he had grave
+fears that the letter would not be accepted; Robin's had been scorned
+and his own might suffer the same fate&mdash;no, he was afraid that it must
+be a personal interview.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had come to this conclusion reluctantly, and now he hesitated to act
+on it; she might be violent, and he felt that he could not deal with
+melodrama.  But the thought of ultimate victory supported him.  The
+delicious surprise of it, the gratitude, the security of his authority
+from all attack for the rest of his days!  Ah yes, it was worth it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He dressed carefully in a suit of delicate grey, wearing, as he did on
+all public occasions, an eyeglass.  He took some time over his
+preparations and drank a whisky and soda before starting; he had
+secured the address from Robin, without, he flattered himself, any
+discovery as to the reason of his request.  10 Seaview Terrace!  Ah
+yes, he knew where that was&mdash;a gloomy back street, quite a fitting
+place for such an affair.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was still uncertain as to the plan of campaign, but he could not
+conceive it credible that any young woman in any part of the British
+Empire would stand up long against a Trojan&mdash;it would, he felt certain,
+prove easy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He noticed with pleasure the attention paid to him by the down-at-heels
+servant&mdash;it was good augury for the success of the interview.  He
+lowered his voice to a deep bass whilst asking for Miss Feverel, and he
+fixed his eyeglass at a more strikingly impressive angle.  He looked at
+women from four points of view, and he had, as it were, a sliding scale
+of manners on which he might mark delicately his perception of their
+position.  There was firstly the Countess, or Titled Nobility.  Here
+his manner was slightly deferential, and at the same time a little
+familiar&mdash;proof of his own good breeding.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Secondly, there was the Trojan, or the lady of Assured Position.  Here
+he was quite familiar, and at the same time just a little
+patronising&mdash;proof of his sense of Trojan superiority.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thirdly, there was the Governess, or Poor Gentility Position.  To
+members of this class he was affably kind, conveying his sense of their
+merits and sympathy with their struggle against poverty, but
+nevertheless marking quite plainly the gulf fixed between him and them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Fourthly, there were the Impossibles, or the Rest&mdash;ranging from the
+wives of successful Brewers to that class known as Unfortunate.  Here
+there was no alteration in his manner; he was stern, and short, and
+stiff with all of them, and the reason of their existence was one of
+the unsolved problems that had always puzzled him.  This woman would,
+of course, belong to this latter class&mdash;he drew himself up haughtily as
+he entered the drawing-room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dahlia Feverel was alone, seated working in the window.  Life was
+beginning to offer attractions to her again.  The thought of work was
+pleasing; she had decided to train as a nurse, and she began to see
+Robin in a clear, true light; she was even beginning to admit that he
+had been right, that their marriage would have been a great mistake.
+The announcement of Garrett Trojan took her by surprise&mdash;she gathered
+her work together and rose, her brain refusing to act consecutively.
+He wanted, of course, the letters&mdash;well, she had not got them....  It
+promised to be rather amusing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And he on his side was surprised.  He had expected a woman with
+frizzled hair and a dress of violent colours; he saw a slender, pale
+girl in black, and she looked rather more of a lady than he had
+supposed.  He was, in spite of himself, confused.  He began hurriedly&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am Mr. Garrett Trojan&mdash;I dare say you have heard of me from my
+nephew&mdash;Robin&mdash;Robert&mdash;with whom, I believe, you are acquainted,
+Miss&mdash;ah&mdash;Feverel.  I have come on his behalf to request the return of
+some letters that he wrote to you during the summer."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He drew a breath and paused.  Well, that was all right anyhow, and
+quite sufficiently business-like.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Won't you sit down, Mr. Trojan?" she said, smiling at him.  "It is
+good of you to have taken so much trouble simply about a few
+letters&mdash;and you really might have written, mightn't you, and saved
+yourself a personal visit?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He refused to sit down and drew himself up.  "Now I warn you, Miss
+Feverel," he said, "that this is no laughing matter.  You are doing a
+very foolish thing in keeping the letters&mdash;very foolish&mdash;ah! um!  You
+must, of course, see that&mdash;exceedingly foolish!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He came to a pause.  It was really rather difficult to know what to say
+next.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, Mr. Trojan," she answered, "you must leave me to judge about the
+foolishness of it.  After all, they are my letters."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Pure waste of time," he answered, his voice getting a little shrill.
+"After all, there can be no question about it.  We <I>must</I> have the
+letters&mdash;we are ready to go to some lengths to obtain them&mdash;even&mdash;ah,
+um&mdash;money&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now, Mr. Trojan," she said quickly, "you are scarcely polite.  But I
+am sure that you will see no reason for prolonging this interview when
+I say that, under no circumstances whatever, can I return the letters.
+That is my unchanging decision."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had no words; he stared at her, dumb with astonishment.  This open
+defiance was the very last thing that he had expected.  Then, at last&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You refuse?" he said with a little gasp.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," she answered lightly, "and I cannot see anything very
+astonishing in my refusal.  They are my property, and it is nobody
+else's business at all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But it is," he almost screamed.  "Business!  Why, I should think it
+was!  Do you think we want to have a scandal throughout the kingdom?
+Do you imagine that it would be pleasant for us to have our name in all
+the papers&mdash;our name that has never known disgrace since the days of
+William the Conqueror?  You can have," he added solemnly, "very little
+idea of the value of a name if you imagine that we are going to
+tolerate its abuse in this fashion.  Dear me, no!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was growing quite red at the thought of his possible failure.  The
+things in the room annoyed him&mdash;the everlasting rustling on the
+mantelpiece&mdash;a staring photograph of Mr. Feverel, deceased, that seemed
+to follow him, protestingly, round and round the room&mdash;a corner of a
+dusty grey road seen dimly through dirty window-panes; why did people
+live in such a place&mdash;or, rather, why did such people live at all?&mdash;and
+to think that it was people like that who dared to threaten Trojan
+honour!  How could Robin have been such a fool!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So, feeling that the situation was so absurd that argument was out of
+place, he began to bluster&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Come now, Miss Feverel&mdash;this won't do, you know! it won't really.
+It's too absurd&mdash;quite ridiculous.  Why, you forget altogether who the
+Trojans are!  Why, we've been years and years&mdash;hundreds of years!  You
+can't intend to oppose institutions of that kind!  Why&mdash;it's
+impossible&mdash;you don't realise what you're doing.  Dear me, no!  Why,
+the whole thing's fantastic&mdash;" and then rather lamely, "You'll be
+sorry, you know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had been listening to him with amusement.  It was pleasant to have
+the family on its knees like this after its treatment of her.  He was
+saying, too, very many of the things that his brother had said, but how
+different it was!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You know, Mr. Trojan," she said, "that I can't help feeling that you
+are making rather a lot of it.  After all, I haven't said that I'm
+going to do anything with the letters, have I?&mdash;simply keep them, and
+that, I think, I am quite entitled to do.  And really my mind won't
+change about that&mdash;I cannot give them to you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Cannot!" he retorted eagerly.  "Why, it's easy enough.  You know, Miss
+Feverel, it won't do to play with me.  I'm a man of the world and
+fencing won't do, you know&mdash;not a bit of it.  When I say I mean to have
+the letters, I mean to have them, and&mdash;ah, um&mdash;that's all about it.  It
+won't do to fence, you know," he said again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But I'm not fencing, Mr. Trojan, I'm saying quite plainly what is
+perfectly true, that I cannot let you have the letters&mdash;nothing that
+you can say will change my mind."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And he really didn't know what to say.  He didn't want to have a
+scene&mdash;he shrunk timidly from violence of any kind; but he really must
+secure the letters.  How they would laugh at the Club!  Why, he could
+hear the guffaws of all Pendragon!  London would be one enormous scream
+of laughter!&mdash;all Europe would be amused! and to his excited fancy Asia
+and Africa seemed to join the chorus!  A Trojan and a common girl in a
+breach of promise case!  A Trojan!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I say," he stammered, "you don't know how serious it is.  People will
+laugh, you know, if you bring the case on.  Of course it was silly of
+him&mdash;Robin, I mean.  I can't conceive myself how he ever came to do
+such a thing.  Boys will be boys, and you're rather pretty, my dear.
+But, bless me, if we were to take all these little things seriously,
+why, where would some of us be?"  He paused, and hinted impressively at
+a hideous past.  "You <I>are</I> attractive, you know."  He looked at her in
+his most flattering manner&mdash;"Quite a nice girl, only you shouldn't take
+it seriously&mdash;really you shouldn't."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This manner of speech was a great deal more offensive than the other,
+and Dahlia got up, her cheeks flushed&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is enough, Mr. Trojan.  I think this had better come to an end.
+I can only repeat what I have said already, that I cannot give you the
+letters&mdash;and, indeed, if I had ever intended to do so, your last
+speech, at least, would have changed my mind&mdash;I am sorry that I cannot
+oblige you, but there is really nothing further to be said."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He tried to stammer something; he faced her for a moment and
+endeavoured to be indignant, and then, to his own intense astonishment,
+found that he was walking down the stairs with the drawing-room door
+closed behind him.  How amazing!&mdash;but he had done his best, and, if he
+had failed, why, after all, no other man could have succeeded any
+better.  And she really was rather bewitching&mdash;he had not expected
+anything quite like that.  What had he expected?  He did not know, but
+he thought of his softly-carpeted, nicely-cushioned room with
+pleasurable anticipation.  He would fling himself into his book when he
+got back ... he had several rather neat ideas....  He noticed, with
+pleasure, that the young man standing by the door of Mead's Groceries
+touched his hat very respectfully, and Twitchett, his tailor, bowed.
+Come, come!  There were a few people left who had some sense of Trojan
+supremacy.  It wasn't such a bad world!  He would have tea in his
+room&mdash;not with Clare&mdash;and crumpets&mdash;yes, he liked crumpets.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dahlia went back to her work with a sigh.  What, she wondered, would be
+the next move?  It had not been quite so amusing as she had expected,
+but it had been a little more exciting.  For she had a curious feeling
+in it all, that she was fighting Harry Trojan's battles.  These were
+the people that had insulted him just as they had insulted her, and now
+they would have to pay for it, they would have to go to him as they had
+gone to her and crawl on their knees.  But what a funny situation!
+That she should play the son for the father, and that she should be
+able to look at her own love affair so calmly!  Poor Robin&mdash;he had
+taught her a great deal, and now it was time for him to learn his own
+lesson.  For her the episode was closed and she was looking forward to
+the future.  She would work and win her way and have done with
+sentiment.  Friendship was the right thing&mdash;the thing that the world
+was meant for&mdash;but <I>Love</I>&mdash;Ah! that wounded so much more than it
+blessed!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she was to have further experiences&mdash;the Trojan family had not done
+with her yet.  Garrett had been absent barely more than half an hour
+when the servant again appeared at the door with, "Miss Trojan, Miss
+Dahlia, would like to see yer and is waiting in the 'all."  Her hand
+twitching at her apron and mouth gaping with astonishment testified to
+her curiosity.  For weeks the house had been unvisited and now, in a
+single day&mdash;!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Show her up, Annie!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was a little agitated; Garrett had been simple enough and even
+rather amusing, but Clare Trojan was quite another thing.  She was,
+Dahlia knew, the head of the family and a woman of the world.  But
+Dahlia clenched her teeth; it was this person who was responsible for
+the whole affair&mdash;for the father's unhappiness, for the son's
+disloyalty.  It was she who had been, as it were, behind Robin's
+halting speeches concerning inequality and one's duty to the family.
+Here was the head of the House, and Dahlia held the cards.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Clare was very calm and collected as she entered the room.  She had
+decided that a personal interview was necessary, but had rather
+regretted that it could not be conducted by letter.  But still if you
+had to deal with that kind of person you must put up with their
+methods, and having once made up her mind about a thing she never
+turned back.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She hated the young person more bitterly than she had ever hated any
+one, and she would have heard of her death with no shadow of pity but
+rather a great rejoicing.  In the first place, the woman had come
+between Clare and Robin; secondly, she threatened the good name of the
+family; thirdly, she was forcing Clare to do several things that she
+very much disliked doing.  For all these reasons the young person was
+too bad to live&mdash;but she had no intention of being uncivil.  Although
+this was her first experience of diplomacy, she had very definite ideas
+as to how such things ought to be conducted, and civility would hide a
+multitude of subtleties.  Clare meant to be very subtle, very kind,
+and, once the letters were in her hand, very unrelenting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was wearing a very handsome dress of grey silk with a large picture
+hat with grey feathers: she entered the room with a rustle, and the
+sweep of the skirts spoke of infinite condescension.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Feverel, I believe&mdash;" she held out her hand&mdash;"I am afraid this is
+a most unceremonious hour for a call, and if I have interrupted you in
+your work, pray go on.  I wouldn't for the world.  What a day, hasn't
+it been?  I always think that these sort of grey depressing days are so
+much worse than the downright pouring ones, don't you?  You are always
+expecting, you know, and then nothing ever comes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dahlia looked rather nervous in the window, and on her face there
+fluttered a rather uncertain smile.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," she said, a little timidly; "but I think that most of the days
+here are grey."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, you find that, do you?  Well, now, that's strange, because I must
+say that I haven't found that my own experience&mdash;and Cornwall, you
+know, is said to be the land of colour&mdash;the English Riviera some,
+rather prettily, call it&mdash;and St. Ives, you know, along the coast is
+quite a place for painters because of the colour that they get there."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dahlia said "Yes," and there was a pause.  Then Clare made her plunge.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You must wonder a little, Miss Feverel, what I have come about.  I
+really must apologise again about the hour.  But I won't keep you more
+than a moment; and it is all quite a trivial matter&mdash;so trivial that I
+am ashamed to disturb you about it.  I would have written, but I
+happened to be passing and&mdash;so&mdash;I came in."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes?" said Dahlia.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, it's about some letters.  Perhaps you have forgotten that my
+nephew, Robert Trojan, wrote to you last summer.  He tells me that you
+met last summer at Cambridge and became rather well acquainted, and
+that after that he wrote to you for several months.  He tells me that
+he wrote to you asking you to return his letters, and that you,
+doubtless through forgetfulness, failed to reply.  He is naturally a
+little nervous about writing to you again, and so I thought that&mdash;as I
+was passing&mdash;I would just come and see you about the matter.  But I am
+really ashamed to bother you about anything so trivial."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," answered Dahlia, "I didn't forget&mdash;I wrote&mdash;answered Robin's
+letter."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah! you did?  Then he must have misunderstood you.  He certainly gave
+me to understand&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, I wrote to Robin saying that I was sorry&mdash;but I intended to keep
+the letters."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare paused and looked at her sharply.  This was the kind of thing
+that she had expected; of course the young person would bluff and stand
+out for a tall price, which must, if necessary, be paid to her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But, Miss Feverel, surely"&mdash;she smiled deprecatingly&mdash;"that can't be
+your definite answer to him.  Poor Robin!&mdash;surely he is entitled to
+letters that he himself has written."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Might I ask, Miss Trojan, why you are anxious that they should be
+returned?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, merely a whim&mdash;nothing of any importance.  But Robin feels, as I
+am sure you must, that the whole episode&mdash;pleasant enough at the time,
+no doubt&mdash;is over, and he feels that it would be more completely closed
+if the letters were destroyed."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah! but there we differ!" said Dahlia sharply.  "That's just what I
+don't feel about it.  I value those letters, Miss Trojan, highly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now what, thought Clare, exactly was she?  Number One, the intriguing
+adventuress?  Number Two, the outraged woman?  Number Three, the
+helpless girl clinging to her one support?  Now, of Numbers One and Two
+Clare had had no experience.  Such persons had never come her way, and
+indeed of Number Three she could know very little; so she escaped from
+generalities and fixed her mind on the actual girl in front of her.
+This was most certainly no intriguing adventuress.  Clare had quite
+definite ideas about that class of person; but she very possibly was
+the outraged female.  At any rate, she would act on that conclusion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My dear young lady," she said softly, "you must not think that I do
+not sympathise.  I do indeed, from the bottom of my heart.  Robin has
+behaved abominably, and any possible reparation we, as a family, will
+gladly pay.  I think, however, that you are a little hard on him.  He
+was young, so were you; and it is very easy for us&mdash;we women
+especially&mdash;to mistake the reality of our affection.  Robin at any rate
+made a mistake and saw it&mdash;and frankly told you so.  It was
+wrong&mdash;very; but I cannot help feeling&mdash;forgive me if I speak rather
+plainly&mdash;that it would be equally wrong on your part if you were to
+indulge any feeling of revenge."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There is not," said Dahlia, "any question of revenge."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah," said Clare brightly, "you will let me have the letters, then?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I cannot," Dahlia answered gravely.  "Really, Miss Trojan, I'm afraid
+that we can gain nothing by further discussion.  I have looked at the
+matter from every point of view, and I'm afraid that I can come to no
+other decision."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare stared in front of her.  What was to be her next move?  Like
+Garrett, she had been brought to a standstill by Dahlia's direct
+refusal.  Viewing the matter indefinitely, from the security of her own
+room, it had seemed to her that the girl would be certain to give way
+at the very mention of the Trojan name.  She would face Robin&mdash;yes,
+that was natural enough, because, after all, he was only a boy and had
+no knowledge of the world and the proper treatment of such a case&mdash;but
+when it came to the head of the family with all the influence of the
+family behind her, then instant submission seemed inevitable.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare was forced to realise that instant submission was very far away
+indeed, and that the girl sitting quietly in the window showed little
+sign of yielding.  She sat up a little straighter in her chair and her
+voice was a little sharper.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It seems then, Miss Feverel, that it is a question of terms.  But why
+did you not say so before?  I would have told you at once that we are
+willing to pay a very considerable sum for the return of the letters."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dahlia's face flushed, and after a moment's pause she rose from her
+chair and walked towards Clare.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Trojan," she said quietly, "I have no intention of taking money
+for them&mdash;or, indeed, of taking anything."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm sure," broke in Clare, flushing slightly, "<I>I</I> had no intention
+of&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah&mdash;no, I know," went on Dahlia.  "But it is not, I assure you, a case
+for melodrama&mdash;but a very plain, simple little affair that is happening
+everywhere all the time.  You say that you cannot understand why I
+should wish to keep the letters.  Let me try and explain, and also let
+me try and urge on you that it is really no good at all trying to
+change my mind.  It is now several days since I had my last talk with
+Robin, and I have, of course, thought a good deal about it&mdash;it is
+scarcely likely that half-an-hour's conversation with you will change a
+determination that I have arrived at after ten days' hard thinking.
+And surely it is not hard to understand.  Six months ago I was happy
+and inexperienced.  I had never been in love, and, indeed, I had no
+idea of its meaning.  Then your nephew came: he made love to me, and I
+loved him in return."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She paused for a moment.  Clare looked sympathetic.  Then Dahlia
+continued: "He meant no harm, no doubt, and perhaps for the time he was
+quite serious in what he said.  He was, as you say, very young.  But it
+was a game to him&mdash;it was everything to me.  I treasured his letters, I
+thought of them day and night.  I&mdash;but, of course, you know the kind of
+thing that a girl goes through when she is in love for the first time.
+Then I came here and went through some bad weeks whilst he was making
+up his mind to tell me that he loved me no longer.  Of course, I saw
+well enough what was happening&mdash;and I knew why it was&mdash;it was the
+family at his back."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A murmur from Clare.  "I assure you, Miss Feverel."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh yes, Miss Trojan, you don't suppose that I cared for you very much
+during those weeks.  I suffered a little, too, and it changed me from a
+girl into a woman&mdash;rather too quickly to be altogether healthy,
+perhaps.  And then he came and told me in so many words.  I thought at
+first that it had broken my heart; a girl does, you know, when it
+happens the first time, but you needn't be afraid&mdash;my heart's all
+right&mdash;and I wouldn't marry Robin now if he begged me to.  But it had
+hurt, all of it, and perhaps one's pride had suffered most of all&mdash;and
+so, of course, I kept the letters.  It was the one way that I could
+hurt you.  I'm frank, am I not?&mdash;but every woman would do the same.
+You see you are so very proud, you Trojans!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is not only that you thank God that you are not as other men, but
+you are so bent on making the rest of us call out 'Miserable sinner!'
+very loudly and humbly.  And we don't believe it.  Why should we?
+Everybody has their own little bits o' things that they treasure, and
+they don't like being told that they're of no value at all.  Why, Miss
+Trojan, I'm quite a proud person really&mdash;you'd be surprised if you
+knew."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She laughed, and then sat down on the sofa opposite Clare, with her
+chin resting on her hand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"So you see, Miss Trojan, it's natural, after all, that I kept the
+letters."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare had listened to the last part of her speech in silence, her lips
+firmly closed, her hands folded on her lap.  As she listened to her she
+knew that it was quite hopeless, that nothing that she could ever say
+would change the young person's mind.  She was horribly disappointed,
+of course, and it would be terrible to be forced to return to Robin,
+and tell him that she had failed: for the first time she would have to
+confess failure&mdash;but really she could not humble herself any longer:
+she was not sure that, even now, she had not unbent a little more than
+was necessary.  If the young person refused to consider the question of
+terms there was no more to be said&mdash;and how dare she talk about the
+Trojans in that way?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Really, Miss Feverel, I scarcely think that it is necessary for us to
+enter into a discussion of that kind, is it?  I daresay you have every
+reason for personal pride&mdash;but really that is scarcely my affair, is
+it?  If no offer of money can tempt you&mdash;well, really, there the matter
+must rest, mustn't it?  Of course I am sorry, but you know your own
+mind.  But that you should think yourself insulted by such an offer is,
+it seems to me, a little absurd.  It is quite obvious what you mean to
+do with them."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dahlia smiled.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is it?" she said.  "That is very clever of you, Miss Trojan.  I am
+sorry that you should have so much trouble for such a little result."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There is no more to be said," answered Clare, moving to the door.
+"Good morning," and she was gone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh dear," said Dahlia, as she went back to the window, "how unpleasant
+she is.  Poor Robin!  What a time he will have!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For her the pathos was over, but for them&mdash;well&mdash;it had not begun.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap12"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER XII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+The question of the Cove was greatly agitating the mind of Pendragon.
+Meetings had been held, a scheme had been drawn up, and it would appear
+that the thing was settled.  It had been conclusively proved that two
+rows of lodging-houses where the Cove now stood would be an excellent
+thing.  The town was over-crowded&mdash;it must spread out in some
+direction, and the Cove-end was practically the only possible place for
+spreading.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The fishery had been declining year by year, and it was hinted at the
+Club that it would be rather a good thing if it declined until it
+vanished altogether; the Cove was in no sense of the word useful, and
+by its lack of suitable drainage and defective protection from weather,
+it was really something of a scandal,&mdash;it formed, as Mr. Grayseed, pork
+butcher and mayor of the town, pointed out, the most striking contrast
+with the upward development so marked in Pendragon of late years.  He
+called the Cove an "eyesore" and nearly proclaimed it an "anomaly"&mdash;but
+was restrained by the presence of his wife, a nervous woman who
+followed her husband with difficulty in his successful career, and
+checked his language when the length of his words threatened their
+accuracy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The town might be said to be at one on these points, and there was no
+very obvious reason why the destruction of the Cove should not be
+proceeded with&mdash;but, still, nothing was done.  It was said by a few
+that the Cove was picturesque and undoubtedly attracted strangers by
+the reason of its dirty, crooked streets and bulging doorways&mdash;an odd
+taste, they admitted, but nevertheless undoubted and of commercial
+importance.  On posters Pendragon was described as "the picturesque
+abode of old-time manners and customs," and Baedeker had a word about
+"charming old-time byways and an old Inn, the haunt, in earlier times,
+of smugglers and freebooters."  Now this was undoubtedly valuable, and
+it would be rather a pity were it swept away altogether.  Perhaps you
+might keep the Inn&mdash;it might even be made into a Museum for relics of
+old Pendragon&mdash;bits of Cornish crosses, stones, some quaint drawings of
+the old town, now in the possession of Mr. Quilter, the lawyer.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The matter was much discussed at the Club, and there was no doubt as to
+the feeling of the majority; let the Cove go&mdash;let them replace it with
+a smart row of red-brick villas, each with its neat strip of garden and
+handsome wooden paling.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry had learnt to listen in silence.  He knew, for one thing, that no
+one would pay very much attention if he did speak, and then, of late,
+he had been flung very much into himself and his reserve had grown from
+day to day.  People did not want to listen to him&mdash;well, he would not
+trouble them.  He felt, too, as Newsome had once said to him, that he
+belonged properly to "down-along," and he knew that he was out of touch
+with the whole of that modern movement that was going on around him.
+But sometimes, as he listened, his cheeks burned when they talked of
+the Cove, and he longed to jump up and plead its defence; but he knew
+that it would be worse than useless and he held himself in&mdash;but they
+didn't know, they didn't know.  It enraged him most when they spoke of
+it as some lifeless, abstract thing, some old rubbish-heap that
+offended their sight, and then he thought of its beauties, of the
+golden sand and the huddling red and grey cottages clustering over the
+sea as though for protection.  You might fancy that the waves slapped
+them on the back for good-fellowship when they dashed up against the
+walls, or kissed them for love when they ran in golden ripples and
+softly lapped the stones.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On the second night after his visit to Dahlia Feverel, Harry went down,
+after dinner, to the Cove.  He found those evening hours, before going
+to bed, intolerable at the House.  The others departed to their several
+rooms and he was suffered to go to his, but the loneliness and
+dreariness made reading impossible and his thoughts drove him out.  He
+had lately been often at the Inn, for this was the hour when it was
+full, and he could sit in a corner and listen without being forced to
+take any part himself.  To-night a pedlar and a girl&mdash;apparently his
+daughter&mdash;were entertaining the company, and even the melancholy sailor
+with one eye seemed to share the feeling of gaiety and chuckled
+solemnly at long intervals.  It was a scene full of colour; the lamps
+in the window shone golden through the haze of smoke on to the black
+beams of the ceiling, the dust-red brick of the walls and floor, and
+the cavernous depths of the great fireplace.  Sitting cross-legged on
+the table in the centre of the room was the pedlar, a little, dark,
+beetle-browed man, and at his side were his wares, his pack flung open,
+and cloths of green and gold and blue and red flung pell-mell at his
+side.  Leaning against the table, her hands on her hips, was the girl,
+dark like her father, tall and flat-chested, with a mass of black hair
+flung back from her forehead.  No one knew from what place they had
+come nor whither they intended to go&mdash;such a visit was rare enough in
+these days of trains&mdash;and the little man's reticence was attacked again
+and again, but ever unsuccessfully.  There were perhaps twenty sailors
+in the room, and they sat or stood by the fireplace watching and
+listening.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry slipped in and took his place by Newsome in the corner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will sing," said the girl.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She stood away from the table and flung up her head&mdash;she looked
+straight into the fire and swayed her body to the time of her tune.
+Her voice was low, so that men bent forward in order that they might
+hear, and the tune was almost a monotone, her voice rising and falling
+like the beating of the sea, with the character of her words.  She sang
+of a Cornish pirate, Coppinger, "Cruel Coppinger," and of his deeds by
+land and sea, of his daring and his cleverness and his brutality, and
+the terror that he inspired, and at last of his pursuit by the king's
+cutter and his utter vanishing "no man knew where."  But gradually as
+her song advanced Coppinger was forgotten and her theme became the
+sea&mdash;she spoke like one possessed, and her voice rose and fell like the
+wind&mdash;all Time and Place were lost.  Harry felt that he was unbounded
+by tradition of birth or breeding, and he knew that he was absolutely
+as one of these others with him in the room&mdash;that he felt that call of
+those old gods just as they did.  The girl ceased and the room was
+silent.  Through the walls came the sound of the sea&mdash;in the fire was
+the crackling of the coals, and down the great chimney came a little
+whistle of the wind.  "A mighty fine pome 'tis fur sure," said the
+white-bearded sailor solemnly, "and mostly wonderful true."  He sighed.
+"They'm changed times," he said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The girl sat on the table at her father's side, watching them
+seriously.  She flung her arms behind her head and then suddenly&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I can dance too," she said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They pulled the table back and watched her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was something quite simple and unaffected&mdash;not, perhaps, in any way
+great dancing, but having that quality, so rarely met with, of being
+exactly right and suited to time and place.  Her arms moved in ripples
+like the waves of the sea&mdash;every part of her body seemed to join in the
+same motion, but quietly, with perfect tranquillity, without any sense
+of strain or effort.  The golden lamps, the coloured clothes, the
+red-brick floor, made a background of dazzling colour, and her black
+hair escaped and fell in coils over her neck and shoulders.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly she stopped.  "There, that's all," she said, binding her hair
+up again with quick fingers.  She walked over to the sailors and talked
+to them with perfect freedom and ease; at last she stayed by the
+handsomest of them&mdash;a dark, well-built young fellow, who put his arm
+round her waist and shared his drink with her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry, as he watched them, felt strangely that it was for him a scene
+of farewell&mdash;that it was for the last time that the place was to offer
+him such equality or that he himself would be in a position to accept
+it.  He did not know why he had this feeling&mdash;perhaps it was the talk
+of the Club about the Cove, or his own certain conviction that matters
+at the House were rapidly approaching a crisis.  Yes, his own protests
+were of no avail&mdash;things must move, and perhaps, after all, it were
+better that they should.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bethel came in, and as usual joined the group at the fire without a
+word; he looked at the pedlar curiously and then seemed to recognise
+him&mdash;then he went up to him and soon they were in earnest conversation.
+It grew late, and at the stroke of midnight Newsome rose to shut up the
+house.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will go back with you," Bethel said to Harry, and they walked to the
+door together.  For a moment Harry turned back.  The girl was bending
+over the sailor&mdash;her arms were round his neck, and his head was tilted
+back to meet her mouth; the pedlar was putting his wares into his pack
+again, but some pieces of yellow and blue silk had escaped him and lay
+on the floor at his feet; down the street three of the sailors were
+tramping home, and the chorus of a chanty died away as they turned the
+corner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The girl, the pedlar, the colours of the room, the vanishing song,
+remained with Harry to the end of his life&mdash;for that moment marked a
+period.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he walked up the hill he questioned Bethel about the pedlar.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I had met him," he said vaguely.  "One knows them all, you know.
+But it is difficult to remember where.  He is one of the last of his
+kind and an amusing fellow enough&mdash;&mdash;"  But he sighed&mdash;"I am out of
+sorts to-night&mdash;my kite broke.  Do you know, Trojan, there are times
+when one thinks that one has at last got right back&mdash;to the power, I
+mean, of understanding the meaning and truth of things&mdash;and then,
+suddenly, it has all gone and one is just where one was years ago and
+it seems wasted.  I tell you, man, last night I was on the moor and it
+was alive with something.  I can't tell you what&mdash;but I waited and
+watched&mdash;I could feel them growing nearer and nearer, the air was
+clearer&mdash;their voices were louder&mdash;and then suddenly it was all gone.
+But of course you won't understand&mdash;none of you&mdash;why should you?  You
+think that I am flying a kite&mdash;why, I am scaling the universe!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Whatever you are doing," said Harry seriously, "you are not keeping
+your family.  Look here, Bethel, you asked me once if I would be a
+friend of yours.  Well, I accepted that, and we have been good friends
+ever since.  But it really won't do&mdash;this kind of thing, I mean.
+Scaling the universe is all very well, if you are a single man&mdash;then it
+is your own look-out; but you are married&mdash;you have people depending on
+you, and they will soon be starving."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bethel burst out laughing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They've got you, Trojan!  They've got you!" he cried.  "I knew it
+would come sooner or later, and it hasn't taken long.  Three weeks and
+you're like the rest of them.  No, you mustn't talk like that, really.
+Tell me I'm a damned fool&mdash;no good&mdash;an absolutely rotten type of
+fellow&mdash;and it's all true enough.  But you must accept it at that.  At
+least I'm true to my type, which is more than the rest of them are, the
+hypocrites!&mdash;and as to my family, well, of course I'm sorry, but
+they're happy enough and know me too well to have any hope of ever
+changing me&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No&mdash;of course, I don't want to preach.  I'm the last man to tell any
+one what they should do, seeing the mess that I've made of things
+myself.  But look here, Bethel, I like you&mdash;I count myself a friend,
+and what are friends for if they're not to speak their minds?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  That's all right enough.  Go on&mdash;I'll listen."  He resigned
+himself with a humorous submission as though he were indulging the
+opinions of a child.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, it isn't right, you know&mdash;it isn't really.  I don't want to tell
+you that you're a fool or a rotter, because you aren't, but that's just
+what makes it so disappointing for any one who cares about you.  You're
+letting all your finer self go.  You're becoming, what they say you
+are, a waster.  Of course, finding yourself's all right&mdash;every man
+ought to do that.  But you have no right to throw off all claims as
+completely as you have done.  Life isn't like that.  We've all got our
+Land of Promise, and, just in order that it may remain, we are never
+allowed to reach it.  Whilst you are lying on your back on the moor,
+your wife and daughter are killing themselves in order to keep the home
+together&mdash;I say that it is not fair."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, come, Trojan," Bethel protested, "is that quite fair on your side?
+Things are all right, you know.  They like it better, they do really.
+Why, if I were to stay at home and try to work they'd think I was going
+to be ill.  Besides, I couldn't&mdash;not at an office or anything like
+that.  It isn't my fault, really&mdash;but it would kill me now if I
+couldn't get away when I want to&mdash;not having liberty would be worse
+than death."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, that's yourself," said Harry.  "That's selfish.  Why don't you
+think of them?  You can't let things go on as they are, man.  You must
+get something to do."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm damned if I will."  Bethel stopped short and stretched his arms
+wide over the moor.  "It isn't as if it would do them any good, and it
+would kill me.  Why, one is deaf and blind and dumb as soon as one has
+work to do.  I'm a child, you know.  I've never grown up, and of course
+I hadn't any right to marry.  I don't know now why I did.  And all you
+people&mdash;you grown-ups&mdash;with your businesses and difficult pleasures and
+noisy feasts&mdash;of course you can't understand what these things mean.
+Only a few of you who sit with folded hands and listen can know what it
+is.  I saw a picture once&mdash;some people feasting in a forest, and
+suddenly a little faun jumped from a tree on to their table and waited
+for them to play with him.  But some were eating and some drinking and
+some talking scandal, and they did not see him.  Only a little boy and
+an old man&mdash;they were doing nothing&mdash;just dreaming&mdash;and they saw him.
+Oh!  I tell you, the dreamer has his philosophy and creed like the rest
+of you!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's all very well," cried Harry.  "But it's a case of bread and
+butter.  You will be bankrupt if you go on as you are!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh no!" Bethel laughed.  "Providence looks after the dreamers.
+Something always happens&mdash;I know something will happen now.  We are on
+the edge of some good fortune.  I can feel it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The man was incorrigible&mdash;there was no doubt of it&mdash;but Harry had
+something further to say.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I want you to let me take a deeper interest in your affairs.
+May I ask your daughter to marry me?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What?  Mary?"  Bethel stopped and shouted&mdash;"Why!  That's splendid!  Of
+course, that's what Providence has been intending all this time.  The
+very thing, my dear fellow&mdash;&mdash;" and he put his arm on Harry's
+shoulder&mdash;"there's no one I'd rather give my girl to.  But it's nothing
+to do with me, really.  She'll know her mind and tell you what she
+feels about it.  Dear me!  Just to think of it!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He broke out into continuous chuckles all the way home, and seemed to
+regard the whole affair as a great joke.  Harry left him shouting at
+the moon.  He had scarcely meant to speak of it so soon, but the
+thought of her struggle and the knowledge of her father's utter
+indifference decided matters.  He went back to the house, determining
+on an interview in the morning.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mary meanwhile had been spending an evening that was anything but
+pleasant&mdash;she had been going through her accounts and was horrified at
+what she saw.  They were badly overdrawn, most of the shops had refused
+them further credit, and the little income that came to them could not
+hope to cover one-half of their expenses.  What was to be done?  Ruin
+and disgrace stared them in the face.  They might borrow, but there was
+no one to whom she could go.  They must, of course, give up their
+little house and go into rooms, but that would make very little
+difference.  She looked at it from every point of view and could think
+of no easier alternative.  She puzzled until her head ached, and the
+room, misty with figures, seemed to swim round her.  She felt cruelly
+lonely, and her whole soul cried out for Harry&mdash;he would help her, he
+would tell her what to do.  She knew now that she loved him with all
+the strength that was in her, that she had always loved him, from the
+first moment that she had known him.  She remembered her promise to him
+that she would come and ask for his help if she really needed it&mdash;well,
+perhaps she would, in the end, but now, at least, she must fight it out
+alone.  The first obvious thing was that her parents must know; that
+they would be of any use was not to be expected, but at least they must
+realise on what quicksands their house was built.  They were like two
+children, with no sense whatever of serious consequences and penalties,
+and they would not, of course, realise that they were face to face with
+a brick wall of debts and difficulties and that there was no way
+over&mdash;but they must be told.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On the next morning, after breakfast, Mary penned her mother into the
+little drawing-room and broached the subject.  Mrs. Bethel knew that
+something serious was to follow, and sat on the edge of her chair,
+looking exactly like a naughty child convicted of a fault.  She was
+wearing a rather faded dress of bright yellow silk and little yellow
+shoes, which she poked out from under her dress every now and again and
+regarded with a complacent air.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They are really not so shabby, Mary, my dear&mdash;not nearly so shabby as
+the blue ones, and a good deal more handsome&mdash;don't you think so, my
+dear?  But you say you want to talk about something, so I'll be
+quiet&mdash;only if you wouldn't mind being just a little quick because
+there are, really, so many things to be done this morning, that it
+puzzles me how&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, mother, I know.  But there is something I want to say.  I won't
+be long, only it's rather important."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, dear&mdash;only don't scold.  You look as if you were going to scold.
+I can always tell by that horrid line you have, dear, in your forehead.
+I know I've done something I oughtn't to, but what it is unless it's
+those red silks I bought at Dixon's on Friday, and they were so cheap,
+only&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, mother, it's nothing you've done.  It's rather what I've done, or
+all of us.  We are all in the same boat.  It's my managing, I suppose;
+anyhow, I've made a mess of it and we're very near the end of the rope.
+There doesn't seem any outlook anywhere.  We're overdrawn at the bank;
+they won't give us credit in the town, and I don't see where any's to
+come from."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, it's money!  Well, my dear, of course it is provoking&mdash;such a
+horrid thing to have to worry about; but really I'm quite relieved.  I
+thought it was something I'd done.  You quite frightened me; and I'm
+glad you don't mind about the red silks, because it really was tempting
+with&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, dear, that's all right.  But this is serious.  I've come to the
+end and I want you to help me.  Will you just go through the books with
+me and see if anything can be done?  I'm so tired and worried.  I've
+been going at them so long that I daresay I've muddled it.  It mayn't
+be quite so hopeless as I've made out."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The books!  My dear Mary&mdash;&mdash;"  Mrs. Bethel looked at her daughter
+pathetically.  "You know that I've no head for figures.  Why, when
+mother died at home&mdash;we were in Chertsey then, Frank and Doris and
+I&mdash;and I tried to manage things, you know, it was really too absurd.  I
+used to make the most ridiculous mistakes and Frank said that the
+village people did just what they liked with me, and I remember old
+Mrs. Blenkinsop charging me for eggs after the first month at quite an
+outrageous rate because&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, mother, I know.  But two heads are better than one, and I am
+really hopelessly puzzled to know what to do."  Mary got up and went
+over to her mother and put her arm round her.  "You see, dear, it is
+serious.  There's no money at all&mdash;less than none; and I don't know
+where we are to turn.  There's no outlook at all.  I'm afraid that it's
+no use appealing to father&mdash;no use&mdash;and so it's simply left for us two
+to do what we can.  It's frightening always doing it alone, and I
+thought you would help me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, of course, Mary dear, I'll do what I can.  No, I'm afraid that
+it would be no good appealing to your father.  It's strange how very
+little sense he's ever had of money&mdash;of the value of it.  I remember in
+the first week that we were married he bought some book or other and we
+had to go without quite a lot of things.  I was angry then, but I've
+learnt since.  It was our first quarrel."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She sighed.  It was always Mrs. Bethel's method of dealing with any
+present problem to flee into the happy land of reminiscence and to stay
+there until the matter had, comfortably or otherwise, settled itself.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But I shouldn't worry," she said, looking up at her daughter.  "Things
+always turn up, and besides," she added, "you might marry, dear."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Marry!"  Mary looked up at her mother sharply.  Mrs. Bethel looked a
+little frightened.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, you will, you know, dear, probably&mdash;and perhaps&mdash;well, if he had
+money&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mother!"  She sprang up from her chair and faced her with flaming
+cheeks.  "Do you mean to say that they are talking about it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They?  Who?  It was only Mrs. Morrison the other day, at tea-time,
+said&mdash;that she thought&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mrs. Morrison?  That hateful woman discussing me?  Mother, how could
+you let her?  What did she say?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, only&mdash;I wish you wouldn't look so cross, dear.  It was nothing
+really&mdash;only that Mr. Trojan obviously cared a good deal&mdash;and it would
+be so nice if&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How dare she?" Mary cried again.  "And you think it too, mother&mdash;that
+I would go on my knees to him to take us out of our trouble&mdash;that I
+would sweep his floors if he would help the family!  Oh!  It's hateful!
+Hateful!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She flung herself into a chair by the window and burst into tears.
+Mrs. Bethel stared at her in amazement.  "Well, upon my word, my dear,
+one never knows how to take you!  Why, it wasn't as if she'd said
+anything, only that it would be rather nice."  She paused in utter
+bewilderment and seemed herself a little inclined to cry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At this moment the door opened&mdash;Mary sprang up.  "Who is it?" she asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mr. Henry Trojan, miss, would like to come up if it wouldn't&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No.  Tell him, Jane, that&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he had followed the servant and appeared in the doorway smiling.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I knew you wouldn't mind my coming unconventionally like this," he
+said; "it's a terrible hour in the morning&mdash;but I felt sure that I
+would catch you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had seen at once that there was something wrong, and he stopped
+confusedly in the doorway.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Mrs. Bethel came forward, smiling nervously.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, please, Mr. Trojan, do come in.  We always love to see you&mdash;you
+know we do&mdash;you're one of our real friends&mdash;one of our best&mdash;and it's
+only too good of you to spare time to come round and see us.  But I am
+busy&mdash;it's quite true&mdash;one is, you know, in the morning; but I don't
+think that Mary has anything very important immediately.  I think she
+might stop and talk to you," and in a confusion of tittered apologies
+she vanished away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he stood in the doorway, waiting for Mary to speak.  She sat with
+her head turned to the window and struggled to regain her self-command;
+they had been talked about in the town.  She could imagine how it had
+gone.  "Oh! the Bethel girl!  Yes, after the Trojan money and doing it
+cleverly too; she'll hook him all right&mdash;he's just the kind of man."
+Oh! the hatefulness of it!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What's up?"  He came forward a little, twisting his hat in his hands.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nothing!"  She turned round and tried to smile.  Indeed she almost
+laughed, for he looked so ridiculous standing there&mdash;like a great
+schoolboy before the headmaster, his hat turning in his hands; or
+rather, like a collie plunging out of the water and ready to shake
+himself on all and sundry.  As she looked at him she knew that she
+loved him and that she could never marry him because Pendragon thought
+that she had hooked him for his money.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;there is something.  What is it?"  He had come forward and taken
+her hands.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she drew them away slowly and sat down on the sofa.  "I'm tired,"
+she said a little defiantly, "that's all&mdash;you know if you will come and
+call at such dreadfully unconventional hours you mustn't expect to find
+people with all the paint on.  I never put mine on till lunch&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No&mdash;it's no good," he answered gravely.  "You're worried, and it's
+wrong of you not to tell me.  You are breaking your promise&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I made no promise," she said quickly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You did&mdash;that day on the moor.  We were to tell each other always if
+anything went wrong.  It was a bargain."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, nothing's wrong.  I'm tired&mdash;bothered a bit&mdash;the old
+thing&mdash;there's more to be bought than we're able to pay for."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've come with a proposition," he answered gravely.  "Just a
+suggestion, which I don't suppose you'll consider&mdash;but you might&mdash;it is
+that you should marry me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It had come so suddenly that it took her by surprise.  The colour flew
+into her cheeks and then ebbed away again, leaving her whiter than
+ever.  That he should have actually said the words made her heart beat
+furiously, and there was a singing in her ears so that she scarcely
+heard what he said.  He paused a moment and then went on.  "Oh!  I know
+it's absurd when we've only known each other such a little time, and
+I've been telling myself that again and again&mdash;but it's no good.  I've
+tried to keep it back, but I simply couldn't help it&mdash;it's been too
+strong for me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He paused again, but she said nothing and he went on.  "I ought to tell
+you about myself, so that you should know, because I'm really a very
+rotten type of person.  I've never done anything yet, and I don't
+suppose I ever shall; I've been a failure at most things, and I'm
+stupid.  I never read the right sort of books, or look at the right
+sort of pictures, or like the right sort of music, and even at the sort
+of things that most men are good at I'm nothing unusual.  I can't
+write, you know, a bit, and in my letters I express myself like a boy
+of fifteen.  And then I'm old&mdash;quite middle-aged&mdash;although I feel young
+enough.  So that all these things are against me, and it's really a
+shame to ask you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He paused again, and then he said timidly, bending towards her&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Could you ever, do you think, give me just a little hope&mdash;I wouldn't
+want you to right away at once&mdash;but, any time, after you'd thought
+about it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She looked up at him and saw that he was shaking from head to foot.
+Her pride was nearly overcome and she wanted to fling herself at his
+feet, and kiss his hands, and never let him go, but she remembered that
+Pendragon had said that she was catching him for his money; so, by a
+great effort, she stayed where she was, and answered quietly, even
+coldly&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am more honoured, Mr. Trojan, than I can tell you by your asking me.
+It is much, very much more than I deserve, and, indeed, I'm not in the
+least worthy of it.  I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it's no good.  You see
+I'm such a stupid sort of girl&mdash;I muddle things so.  It would never do
+for me to attempt to manage a big place like 'The Flutes'&mdash;and then I
+don't think I shall ever marry.  I don't think I am that sort of girl.
+You have been an awfully good friend to me, and I'm more grateful to
+you than I can say.  I can't tell you how much you have helped us all
+during these last weeks.  But I'm afraid I must say no."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The light from the window fell on her hair and the blue of her dress&mdash;a
+little gold pin at her throat flashed and sparkled; his eye caught it,
+and was fixed there.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No&mdash;don't say actually no."  He was stammering.  "Please&mdash;please.
+Think about it after I have gone away.  I will come again another day
+when you have thought about it.  I'm so stupid in saying things&mdash;I
+can't express myself; but, Miss Bethel&mdash;Mary&mdash;I love you&mdash;I love you.
+There isn't much to say about it&mdash;I can't express it any better&mdash;but,
+please&mdash;you mustn't say no like that.  I would be as good a husband to
+you as I could, dear, always.  I'm not the sort of fellow to change."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No"&mdash;she was speaking quickly as though she meant it to be final&mdash;"no,
+really, I mean it.  I can't, I can't.  You see one has to feel certain
+about it, hasn't one?&mdash;and I don't&mdash;not quite like that.  But you are
+the very best friend that I have ever had; don't let it spoil that."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Perhaps," he said slowly, "it's my age.  You don't feel that you could
+with a man old enough to be your father.  But I'm young&mdash;younger than
+Robin.  But I won't bother you about it.  Of course, if you are
+certain&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He rose and stumbled a moment over the chair as he passed to the door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  I'm so sorry!" she cried.  "I&mdash;&mdash;" and then she had to turn to
+hide her face.  In her heart there was a struggle such as she had never
+faced before.  Her love called her a fool and told her that she was
+flinging her life away&mdash;that the ship of her good fortune was sailing
+from her, and it would be soon beyond the horizon; but her pride
+reminded her of what they had said&mdash;that she had laid traps for him,
+for his money.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am sorry," she said again.  "But it must be only friendship."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she had forgotten that although her back was turned he was towards
+the mirror.  He could see her&mdash;her white face and quivering lips.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He sprang towards her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mary, try me.  I will love you better than any man in God's world,
+always.  I will live for you, and work for you, and die for you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was more than she could bear.  She could not reason now.  She was
+only resolved that she would not give way, and she pushed past him
+blindly, her head hanging.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The drawing-room door closed.  He stared dully in front of him.  Then
+he picked up his hat and left the house.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had flung herself on her bed and lay there motionless.  She heard
+the door close, his steps on the stairs, and then the outer door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She sprang to the window, and then, moved by some blind impulse, rushed
+to the head of the stairs.  There were steps, and Mrs. Bethel's voice
+penetrated the gloom.  "Mary, Mary, where are you?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She crept back to her room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He walked back to "The Flutes" with the one fact ever before him&mdash;that
+she had refused him.  He realised now that it had been his love for her
+that had kept him during these weeks sane and brave.  Without it, he
+could not have faced his recent troubles and all the desolate sense of
+outlawry and desolation that had weighed on him so terribly.  Now he
+must face it, alone, with the knowledge that she did not love him&mdash;that
+she had told him so.  It was his second rejection&mdash;the second flinging
+to the ground of all his defences and walls of protection.  Robin had
+rejected him, Mary had rejected him, and he was absolutely, horribly
+alone.  He thought for a moment of Dahlia Feverel and of her desertion.
+Well, she had faced it pluckily; he would do the same.  Life could be
+hard, but he would not be beaten.  His methods of consolation, his
+pulling of himself together&mdash;it was all extremely commonplace, but then
+he was an essentially commonplace man, and saw things unconfusedly, one
+at a time, with no entanglement of motives or complicated searching for
+origins.  He had accepted the fact of his rejection by his family with
+the same clear-headed indifference to side-issues as he accepted now
+his rejection by Mary.  He could not understand "those artist fellows
+with their complications"&mdash;life for him was perfectly straight-forward.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the gods had not done with his day.  On the way up to his room he
+was met by Clare.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Father is worse," she said quickly.  "He took a turn this morning, and
+now, perhaps, he will not live through the night.  Dr. Turner and Dr.
+Craile are both with him.  He asked for you a little while ago."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She passed down the stairs&mdash;the quiet, self-composed woman of every
+day.  It was characteristic of a Trojan that the more agitated outside
+circumstances became the quieter he or she became.  Harry was Trojan in
+this, and, as was customary with him, he put aside his own worries and
+dealt entirely with the matter in hand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Already, over the house, a change was evident.  In the absolute
+stillness there could be felt the presence of a crisis, and the
+monotonous flap of a blind against some distant window sounded clearly
+down the passages.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In Sir Jeremy's room there was perfect stillness.  The two doctors had
+gone downstairs and the nurse was alone.  "He asked for you, sir," she
+whispered; "he is unconscious again now."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry sat down by the bed and waited.  The air was heavy with scents of
+medicine, and the drawn blinds flung grey, ghost-like shadows over the
+bed.  The old man seemed scarcely changed.  The light had gone from his
+eyes and his hand lay motionless on the sheets, and his lips moved
+continually in a never-ceasing murmur.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly he turned and his eyes opened.  The nurse moved forward.
+"Where's Harry?"  He waved his arm feebly in the air.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm here, father," Harry said quietly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, that's good"&mdash;he sank back on the pillows again.  "I'm going to
+die, you know, and I'm lonely.  It's damned gloomy&mdash;got to die&mdash;don't
+want to&mdash;but got to."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He felt for his son's hand, found it, and held it.  Then he passed off
+again into half-conscious sleep, and Harry watched, his hand in his
+father's and his thoughts with the girl and the boy who had rejected
+him rather than with the old man who had accepted him.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap13"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER XIII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Meanwhile there was Robin&mdash;and he had been spending several very
+unhappy days.  In the gloom of his room, alone and depressed, he had
+been passing things in review.  He had never hitherto felt any very
+burning desire to know how he stood with the world; at school and
+Cambridge he had not thought at all&mdash;he had just, as it were, slid into
+things; his surroundings had grouped themselves of their own accord,
+making a delicately appreciative circle with no disturbing element.
+His friends had been of his own kind, the things that he had wished to
+do he had done, his thoughts had been dictated by set forms and
+customs.  This had seemed to him, hitherto, an extraordinarily broad
+outlook; he had never doubted for a moment its splendid infallibility.
+He applied the tests of his set to the world at large, and the world
+conformed.  Life was very easy on such terms, and he had been happy and
+contented.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His meeting with Dahlia had merely lent a little colour to his pleasant
+complacency, and then, when it had threatened to become something more,
+he had ruthlessly cut it out.  This should have been simple enough, and
+he had been at a loss to understand why the affair had left any traces.
+Friends of his at college had had such episodes, and had been mildly
+amused at their rapid conclusion.  He had tried to be mildly amused at
+the conclusion of his own affair, but had failed miserably.  Why? ...
+he did not know.  He must be sensitive, he supposed; then, in that
+case, he had failed to reach the proper standard....  Randal was never
+sensitive.  But there had been other things.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+During the last week everything had seemed to be topsy-turvy.  He dated
+it definitely from the arrival of his father.  He recalled the day; his
+tie was badly made, he remembered, and he had been rather concerned
+about it.  How curious it all was; he must have changed since then,
+because now&mdash;well, ties seemed scarcely to matter at all.  He saw his
+father standing at the open window watching the lighted town....
+"Robin, old boy, we'll have a good time, you and I..."&mdash;and then Aunt
+Clare with her little cry of horror, and his father's hurried apology.
+That had been the beginning of things; one could see how it would go
+from the first.  Had it, after all, been so greatly his father's fault?
+He was surprised to find that he was regarding his uncle and aunt
+critically....  It had been their fault to a great extent&mdash;they had
+never given him a chance.  Then he remembered the next morning and his
+own curt refusal to his father's invitation&mdash;"He had books to pack for
+Randal!"  How absurd it was, and he wondered why he should have
+considered Randal so important.  He could have waited for the books.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But these things depended entirely on his own sudden discovery that he
+had failed in a crisis&mdash;failed, and failed lamentably.  He did not
+believe that Randal would have failed.  Randal would not have worried
+about it for a moment.  What, then, was precisely the difference?  He
+had acted throughout according to the old set formula&mdash;he had applied
+all the rules of the game as he had learnt them, and nevertheless he
+had been beaten.  And so there had crept over him gradually, slowly,
+and at last overwhelmingly, the knowledge that the world that he had
+imagined was not the world as it is, that the people he had admired
+were not the only admirable people in it, and that the laws that had
+governed him were only a small fragment of the laws that rule the world.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When this discovery first comes to a man the effect is deadening; like
+a ship that has lost its bearings he plunges in a sea of entangled,
+confused ideas with no assurances as to his own ability to reach any
+safe port whatever.  It is this crisis that marks the change from youth
+to manhood.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Three weeks ago Robin had been absolutely confident, not only in
+himself, but in his relations, his House and his future; now he trusted
+in nothing.  But he had not yet arrived at the point when he could
+regard his own shortcomings as the cause of his unhappiness; he pointed
+to circumstances, his aunt, his uncle, Dahlia, even Randal, and he
+began a search for something more reliable.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Of course, his aunt and uncle might have solved the problem for him; he
+had not dared to question them and they had never mentioned the subject
+themselves, but they did not look as though they had succeeded&mdash;he
+fancied that they had avoided him during the last few days.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The serious illness of his grandfather still further complicated
+matters; he was not expected to live through the week.  Robin was
+sorry, but he had never seen very much of his grandfather; and it was,
+after all, only fitting that such a very old man should die some time;
+no, the point really was that his father would in a week's time be Sir
+Henry Trojan and head of the House&mdash;that was what mattered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now his father was the one person whom he could find no excuse whatever
+for blaming.  He had stood entirely outside the affair from the
+beginning, and, as far as Robin could tell, knew nothing whatever about
+it.  Robin, indeed, had taken care that he should not interfere; he had
+been kept outside from the first.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+No, Robin could not blame his father for the state of things; perhaps,
+even, it might have been better if his advice had been asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But everything drove him back to the ultimate fact from which, indeed,
+there was no escaping&mdash;that there was every prospect of his finding
+himself, within a few weeks' time, the interesting centre of a common
+affair in the Courts for Breach of Promise; and as this ultimate issue
+shone clearer and clearer Robin's terror increased in volume.  To his
+excited fancy, living and dead seemed to turn upon him.  Country
+cousins&mdash;the Rev. George Trojan of West Taunton, a clergyman whose
+evangelical tendencies had been the mock of the House; Colonel Trojan
+of Cheltenham, a Port-and-Pepper Indian, as Robin had scornfully called
+him; the Misses Trojan of Southsea, ladies of advanced years and
+slender purses, who always sent him a card at Christmas; Mrs. Adeline
+Trojan of Teignmouth, who had spent her life in beating at the doors of
+London Society and had retired at last, defeated, to the provincial
+gentility of a seaside town&mdash;Oh!  Robin had laughed at them all and
+scorned them again and again&mdash;and behold how the tables would be
+turned!  And the Dead!  Their scorn would be harder still to bear.  He
+had thought of them often enough and had long ago known their histories
+by heart.  He had gazed at their portraits in the Long Gallery until he
+knew every line of their faces: old Lady Trojan of 1640, a little like
+Rembrandt's "Lady with the Ruff," with her stern mouth and eyes and
+stiff white collar&mdash;she must have been a lady of character!  Sir
+Charles Trojan, her son, who plotted for William of Orange and was
+rewarded royally after the glorious Revolution; Lady Gossiter Trojan, a
+woman who had taken active part in the '45, and used "The Flutes" as a
+refuge for intriguing Jacobites; and, best of all, a dim black picture
+of a man in armour that hung over the mantel-piece, a portrait of a
+certain Sir Robert Trojan who had fought in the Barons' Wars and been a
+giant of his times; he had always been Robin's hero and had formed the
+centre of many an imaginary tapestry worked by Robin's brain&mdash;and now
+his descendant must pay costs in a Breach of Promise Case!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had all had their faults, those Trojans; some of them had robbed
+and murdered with little compunction, but they had always had their
+pride, they had never done anything really low&mdash;what they had done they
+had done with a high hand; Robin would be the first of the family to
+let them down.  And it was rather curious to think that, three weeks
+ago, it had been his father who was going to let them down.  Robin
+remembered with what indignation he had heard of his father's visits to
+the Cove, his friendship with Bethel and the rest&mdash;but surely it was
+they who had driven him out!  It was their own doing from the first&mdash;or
+rather his aunt and uncle's.  He was beginning to be annoyed with his
+aunt and uncle.  He felt vaguely that they had got him into the mess
+and were quite unable to pull him out again; which reflection brought
+him back to the original main business, namely, that there was a mess,
+and a bad one.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was one of his qualities of youth that he could not wait; patience
+was an utterly unlearned virtue, and this desperate uncertainty, this
+sitting like Damocles under a sword suspended by a hair, was hard to
+bear.  What was Dahlia doing?  Had she already taken steps?  He watched
+every post with terror lest it should contain a lawyer's writ.  He had
+the vaguest ideas about such things ... perhaps they would put him in
+prison.  To his excited fancy the letters seemed enormous&mdash;horrible,
+black, menacing, large for all the world to see.  What had Aunt Clare
+done?  His uncle?  And then, last of all, had his father any suspicions?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Whether it was the London tailor, or simply the reassuring hand of
+custom, his father was certainly not the uncouth person he had seemed
+three weeks ago; in fact, Robin was beginning to think him rather
+handsome&mdash;such muscles and such a chest!&mdash;and he really carried himself
+very well, and indeed, loose, badly-made clothes suited him rather
+well.  And then he had changed so in other ways; there was none of that
+overwhelming cheerfulness, that terrible hail-fellow-well-met kind of
+manner now; he was brief and to the point, he seldom smiled, and surely
+it wasn't to be wondered at after the way in which they had treated him
+at the family council a week ago.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There had been several occasions lately on which Robin would have liked
+to have spoken to his father.  He had begun, once, after breakfast, a
+halting conversation, but he had only received monosyllables as a
+reply&mdash;the thing had broken down painfully.  And so he went down to his
+aunt.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was her room again, and she was having tea with Uncle Garrett.
+Robin remembered the last occasion, only a week ago, when he had made
+his confession.  He had been afraid of hurting his aunt then, he
+remembered.  He did not mind very much now ... he saw his aunt and
+uncle as two people suddenly grown effete, purposeless, incapable.
+They seemed to have changed altogether, which only meant that he was,
+at last, finding himself.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There hung a gloom over Clare's tea-table, partly, no doubt, because of
+Sir Jeremy&mdash;the old man with the wrinkled hands and parchment face
+seemed to follow one, noiselessly, remorselessly, through every passage
+and into every room ... but there was also something else&mdash;that tension
+always noticeable in a room where people whose recent action towards
+some common goal is undeclared are gathered together; they were waiting
+for some one else to make the next move.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And it was Robin who made it, asking at once, as he dropped the sugar
+into his cup and balanced for a moment the tongs in the air: "Well,
+Aunt Clare, what have you done?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She noticed at once that he asked it a little scornfully, as though
+assured beforehand that she had done very little.  There was a note of
+antagonism in the way that he had spoken, a hint, even, of challenge.
+She knew at once that he had changed during the last week, and again,
+knowing as she did of her failure with the girl, and guessing perhaps
+at its probable sequence, she hated Harry from the bottom of her heart.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Done?  Why, how, Robin dear?  I don't advise those tea-cakes&mdash;they're
+heavy.  I must speak to Wilson&mdash;she's been a little careless lately;
+those biscuits are quite nice.  Done, dear?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, aunt&mdash;about Miss Feverel.  No, I don't want anything to eat,
+thanks&mdash;it seems only an hour or so since lunch&mdash;yes&mdash;about&mdash;well,
+those letters?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare looked up at him pleadingly.  He was speaking a little like
+Harry; she had noticed during the last week that he had several things
+in common with his father&mdash;little things, the way that he wrinkled his
+forehead, pushed back his hair with his hand; she was not sure that it
+was not conscious imitation, and indeed it had seemed to her during the
+last week that every day drew him further from herself and nearer to
+Harry.  She had counted on this affair as a means of reclaiming him,
+and now she must confess failure&mdash;Oh! it was hard!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, Robin, I have tried&mdash;&mdash;"  She paused.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well?" he said drily, waiting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm afraid it wasn't much of a success," she said, trying to laugh.
+"I suppose that really I'm not good at that sort of thing."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"At what sort of thing?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He stood over her like a judge, the certainty of her failure the only
+thing that he could grasp.  He did not recognise her own love for him,
+her fear lest he should be angry; he was merciless as he had been three
+weeks ago with his father, as he had been with Dahlia Feverel, and for
+the same reason&mdash;because each had taken from him some of that armour of
+self-confidence in which he had so greatly trusted; the winds of the
+heath were blowing about him and he stood, stripped, shivering, before
+the world.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She was not good at that sort of thing"&mdash;that was exactly it, exactly
+the summary of his new feeling about his aunt and uncle; they were not
+able to cope with that hard, new world into which he had been so
+suddenly flung&mdash;they were, he scornfully considered, "tea-table"
+persons, and in so judging them he condemned himself.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm so very sorry, dear.  I did my very best.  I went to see
+the&mdash;um&mdash;Miss Feverel, and we talked about them.  But I'm afraid that I
+couldn't persuade her&mdash;she seemed determined&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What did she say?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, very little&mdash;only that she considered that the letters were hers
+and that therefore she had every right to keep them if she liked.  She
+seemed to attach some especial, rather sentimental value to them, and
+considered, apparently, that it would be quite impossible to give them
+up."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How was she looking&mdash;ill?"  It had been one of Robin's consolations
+during these weeks to imagine her pale, wretched, broken down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh no, extremely well.  She seemed rather amused at the whole affair.
+I was not there very long."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And is that all you have done?  Have you, I mean, taken any other
+steps?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;I wrote yesterday morning.  I got an answer this morning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What was it?" Robin spoke eagerly.  Perhaps his aunt had some surprise
+in store and would produce the letters suddenly; surely Dahlia would
+not have written unless she had relented.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare went to her writing-table and returned with the letter, held
+gingerly between finger and thumb.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm afraid it's not very long," she said, laughing nervously, and
+again looking at Robin appealingly.  "I had written asking her to think
+over what she had said to me the day before.  She says:
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"'DEAR Miss TROJAN&mdash;Surely the matter is closed after what happened the
+other day?  I am extremely sorry that you should be troubled by my
+decision; but it is, I am afraid, unalterable.&mdash;Yours truly,
+<BR><BR>
+D. FEVEREL.'"
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Her decision?" cried Robin quickly.  "Had she told you anything?  Had
+she decided anything?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Only that she would keep the letters," answered Clare slowly.  "You
+couldn't expect me, Robin dear, to argue with her about it.  One had,
+after all, one's dignity."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! it's no use!" cried Robin.  "She means to use them&mdash;of course,
+it's all plain enough; we've just got to face it, I suppose"; and then,
+as a forlorn hope, turning to his uncle&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You've done nothing, I suppose, Uncle Garrett?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His uncle had hitherto taken no part in the discussion, but sat intent
+on the book that he was reading.  Now he answered, without looking up&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;I saw the girl."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You saw her?" from Clare.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What!  Dahlia!" from Robin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, I called."  He laid the book down on his knee and enjoyed the
+effect of his announcement.  He could be important for a moment at any
+rate, although he must, with his next words, confess failure, so he
+prolonged the situation.  "Some more tea, Clare, please, and not quite
+so strong this time&mdash;you might speak about the tea&mdash;why not make it
+yourself?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She took his cup and went over to the tea-table.  She knew how to play
+the game as well as he did, and she showed no astonishment or vulgar
+curiosity, but if he had succeeded where she had failed she must change
+her hand.  She had never thought very much about Garrett; he was a
+thorough Trojan&mdash;for that she was very grateful, but he had always been
+more of an emblem to her than a man.  Now if he had got the letters she
+was humiliated indeed.  Robin would despise her for having failed where
+his uncle had succeeded.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, have you got them?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin bent forward eagerly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, not precisely," Garrett answered deliberately.  "But I went to see
+her&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"With what result?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"With no precise result&mdash;that is to say, she did not promise to
+surrender them&mdash;not immediately.  But I have every hope&mdash;&mdash;"  He paused
+mysteriously.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of what?"  If his uncle had really a chance of getting them, he was
+not such a fool after all.  Perhaps he was a cleverer man than one gave
+him credit for being.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, of course, one has very little ground for any real assertion,
+but we discussed the matter at some length.  I think I convinced her
+that it would be her wisest course to deliver up the letters as soon as
+might be, and I assured her that we would let the matter rest there and
+take no further steps.  I think she was impressed," and he sipped his
+tea slowly and solemnly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Impressed!  Yes, but what has she promised?" Robin cried impatiently.
+He knew Dahlia better than they did, and he did not feel somehow that
+she was very likely to be impressed with Uncle Garrett.  He was not the
+kind of man.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Promised?  No, not a precise promise&mdash;but she was quite pleasant and
+seemed to be open to argument&mdash;quite a nice young person."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah! you have done nothing!"  There was a note of relief in Clare's
+exclamation.  "Why not say so at once, Garrett, instead of beating
+about the bush?  There is an end of it.  We have failed, Robin, both of
+us; we are where we were before, and what to do next I really don't
+know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was rather a comfort to drag Garrett into it as well.  She was glad
+that he had tried; it made her own failure less noticeable.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin looked at both of them, gloomily, from the fireplace.  Aunt
+Clare, handsome, aristocratic, perfectly well fitted to pour out tea in
+any society, but useless, useless, useless when it came to the real
+thing; Uncle Garrett and his eyeglass, trying to make the most of a
+situation in which he had most obviously failed&mdash;no, they were no good
+either of them, and three weeks ago they had seemed the ultimate
+standard by which his own life was to be tested.  How quickly one
+learnt!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, what is to be done?" he said desperately.  "It's plain enough
+that she means to stick to the things; and, after all, there can only
+be one reason for her doing it&mdash;she means to use them.  I can see no
+way out of it at all&mdash;one must just stand up to it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We'll think, dear, we'll think," said Clare eagerly.  "Ideas are sure
+to come if we only wait."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wait!  But we can't wait!" cried Robin.  "She'll move at once.
+Probably the letters are in the lawyer's hands already."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then there's nothing to be done," said Garrett comfortably, settling
+back again into his book&mdash;he was, he flattered himself, a man of most
+excellent practical sense.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, it really seems, Robin, as if we had better wait," said Clare.
+"We must have patience.  Perhaps after all she has taken no steps."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Robin was angry.  He had long ago forgotten his share in the
+business; he had adopted so successfully the rôle of injured sufferer
+that his own actions seemed to him almost meritorious.  But he was very
+angry with them.  Here they were, in the face of a family crisis,
+deliberately adopting a policy of <I>laissez-faire</I>; he had done his best
+and had failed, but he was young and ignorant of the world (that at
+least he now admitted), but they were old, experienced, wise&mdash;or, at
+least, they had always seemed to him to stand for experience and
+wisdom, and yet they could do nothing&mdash;nay, worse&mdash;they seemed to wish
+to do nothing&mdash;Oh! he was angry with them!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The whole room with its silver and knick-knacks&mdash;its beautifully worked
+cushions and charming water-colours, its shining rows of complete
+editions and dainty china stood to him now for incapacity.  Three weeks
+ago it had seemed his Holy of Holies.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But we can't wait," he repeated&mdash;"we can't!  Don't you see, Aunt
+Clare, she isn't the sort of girl that waiting does for?  She'd never
+dream of waiting herself."  Dahlia seemed, by contrast with their
+complacent acquiescence, almost admirable.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, dear," Clare answered, "your uncle and I have both tried&mdash;I
+think that we may be alarming ourselves unnecessarily.  I must say she
+didn't seem to me to bear any grudge against you.  I daresay she will
+leave things as they are&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then why keep the letters?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, sentiment.  It would remind her, you see&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Robin could only repeat&mdash;"No, she's not that kind of girl," and
+marvel, perplexedly, at their short-sightedness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And then he approached the point&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There is, of course," he said slowly, "one other person who might help
+us&mdash;&mdash;"  He paused.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett put his book down and looked up.  Clare leaned towards him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes?"  Clare looked slightly incredulous of any suggested remedy&mdash;but
+apparently composed and a little tired of all this argument.  But, in
+reality, her heart was beating furiously.  Had it come at last?&mdash;that
+first mention of his father that she had dreaded for so many days.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I really cannot think&mdash;&mdash;" from Garrett.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why not my father?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Again it seemed to Clare that she and Harry were struggling for Robin
+... since that first moment of his entry they had struggled&mdash;she with
+her twenty years of faithful service, he with nothing&mdash;Oh! it was
+unfair!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But, Robin," she said gently&mdash;"you can't&mdash;not, at least, after what
+has happened.  This is an affair for ourselves&mdash;for the family."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But <I>he</I> is the family!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, in a sense, yes.  But his long absence&mdash;his different way of
+looking at things&mdash;make it rather hard.  It would be better, wouldn't
+it, to settle it here, without its going further."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"To <I>settle</I> it, yes&mdash;but we can't&mdash;we don't&mdash;we are leaving things
+quite alone&mdash;waiting&mdash;when we ought to do something."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin knew that she was showing him that his father was still outside
+the circle&mdash;that for herself and Uncle Garrett recent events had made
+no difference.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But was he outside the circle?  Why should he be?  At any rate he would
+soon be head of the House, and then it would matter very little&mdash;&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Also," Clare added, "he will scarcely have time just now.  He is with
+father all day&mdash;and I don't see what he could do, after all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He could see her," said Robin slowly.  He suddenly remembered that
+Dahlia had once expressed great admiration for his father&mdash;she was the
+very woman to like that kind of man.  A hurried mental comparison
+between his father and Uncle Garrett favoured the idea.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He could see her," he said again.  "I think she might like him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My dear boy," said Garrett, "take it from me that what a man could do
+I've done.  I assure you it's useless.  Your father is a very excellent
+man, but, I must confess, in my opinion scarcely a diplomat&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, at any rate it's worth trying," cried Robin impatiently.  "We
+must, I suppose, eat humble pie after the things you said to him, Aunt
+Clare, the other day, but I must confess it's the only chance.  He will
+be decent about it, I'm sure&mdash;I think you scarcely realise how nasty it
+promises to be."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Who is to ask?" said Garrett.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will ask him," said Clare suddenly.  "Perhaps after all Robin is
+right&mdash;he might do something."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It might, she thought, be the best thing.  Unless he tried, Robin would
+always consider him capable of succeeding&mdash;but he should try and
+fail&mdash;fail!  Why, of course he would fail.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thank you, Aunt Clare."  Robin walked to the door and then turned:
+"Soon would be best"&mdash;then he closed the door behind him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His father was coming down the stairs as he passed through the hall.
+He saw him against the light of the window and he half turned as though
+to speak to him&mdash;but his father gave no sign; he looked very
+stern&mdash;perhaps his grandfather was dead.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The sudden fear&mdash;the terror of death brought very close to him for the
+first time&mdash;caught him by the throat.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He is not dead?" he whispered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He is asleep," Harry said, stopping for a moment on the last step of
+the stairs and looking at him across the hall&mdash;"I am afraid that he
+won't live through the night."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had both spoken softly, and the utter silence of the house, the
+heaviness of the air so that it seemed to hang in thick clouds above
+one's head, drove Robin out.  He looked as though he would speak, and
+then, with bent head, passed into the garden.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He felt most miserably lonely and depressed&mdash;if he hadn't been so old
+and proud he would have hidden in one of the bushes and cried.  It was
+all so terrible&mdash;his grandfather, that weighty, eerie impression of
+Death felt for the first time, the dreadful uncertainty of the Feverel
+affair, all things were quite enough for misery, but this feeling of
+loneliness was new to him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had always had friends, but even when they had failed him there had
+been behind them the House&mdash;its traditions, its records, its
+history&mdash;his aunt and uncle, and, most reassuring of all, himself.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But now all these had failed him.  His friends were vaguely
+unattractive; Randal was terribly superficial, he was betraying the
+House; his aunt and uncle were unsatisfactory, and for himself&mdash;well,
+he wasn't quite so splendid as he had once thought.  He was wretchedly
+dissatisfied with it all and felt that he would give all the polish and
+culture in the world for a simple, unaffected friendship in which he
+could trust.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Some one," he said angrily, "that would do something"&mdash;and his
+thoughts were of his father.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was dark now, and he went down to the sea, because he liked the
+white flash of the waves as they broke on the beach&mdash;this sudden
+appearing and disappearing and the rustle of the pebbles as they turned
+slowly back and vanished into the night again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He liked, too, the myriad lights of the town: the rows of lamps, rising
+tier on tier into the night sky, like people in some great amphitheatre
+waiting in silence for the rising of a mighty curtain.  He always
+thought on these nights of Germany&mdash;Germany, Worms, the little
+bookseller, the distant gleam of candles in the Cathedrals, the flash
+of the sun through the trees over the Rhine, the crooked, cobbled
+streets at night with the moon like a lamp and the gabled roofs
+flinging wild shadows over the stones ... the night-sea brought it very
+close and carried Randal and Cambridge and Dahlia Feverel very far
+away, although he did not know why.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He watched the light of the town and the waves and the great flashing
+eye of the lighthouse and then turned back.  As he climbed the steps up
+the cliff he heard some one behind him, and, turning, saw that it was
+Mary Bethel.  She said "Good-night" quickly and was going to pass him,
+but he stopped her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I haven't seen you for ages, Mary," he said.  He resolved to speak to
+her.  She knew his father and had always been a good sort&mdash;perhaps she
+would help him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Are you coming back, Robin?" she said, stopping and smiling.  There
+was a lamp at the top of the cliff where the road ran past the steps,
+and by the light of it he saw that she had been crying.  But he was too
+much occupied with his own affairs to consider the matter very deeply,
+and then girls cried so easily.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," he said, "let us go round by the road and the Chapel&mdash;it's a
+splendid night; besides, we don't seem to have met recently.  We've
+both been busy, I suppose, and I've a good deal to talk about."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If you like," she said, rather listlessly.  It would, at least, save
+her from her own thoughts and protect her perhaps from the ceaseless
+repetition of that scene of three days ago when she had turned the man
+that she loved more than all the world away and had lied to him because
+she was proud.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And so at first she scarcely listened to him.  They walked down the
+road that ran along the top of the cliff and the great eye of the
+lighthouse wheeled upon them, flashed and vanished; she saw the room
+with its dingy carpet and wide-open window, and she heard his voice
+again and saw his hands clenched&mdash;oh! she had been a fine fool!  So it
+was little wonder that she did not hear his son.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Robin had at last an audience and he knew no mercy.  All the
+agitation of the last week came pouring forth&mdash;he lost all sense of
+time and place; he was at the end of the world addressing infinity on
+the subject of his woes, and it says a good deal for his vanity and not
+much for his sense of humour that he did not feel the lack of
+proportion in such a position.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It was a girl, you know&mdash;perhaps you've met her&mdash;a Miss
+Feverel&mdash;Dahlia Feverel.  I met her at Cambridge and we got rather
+thick, and then I wrote to her&mdash;rot, you know, like one does&mdash;and when
+I wanted to get back the letters she wouldn't let me have them, and
+she's going to use them, I'm afraid, for&mdash;well&mdash;Breach of Promise!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He paused and waited for the effect of the announcement, but it never
+came; she was walking quickly, with her head lifted to catch the wind
+that blew from the sea&mdash;he could not be certain that she had heard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Breach of Promise!" he repeated impressively.  "It would be rather an
+awful thing for people in our position if it really came to that&mdash;it
+would be beastly for me.  Of course, I meant nothing by it&mdash;the
+letters, I mean&mdash;a chap never does.  Everybody at Cambridge talks to
+girls&mdash;the girls like it&mdash;but she took it seriously, and now she may
+bring it down on our heads at any time, and you can't think how beastly
+it is waiting for it to come.  We've done all we could&mdash;all of us&mdash;and
+now I can tell you it's been worrying me like anything wondering what
+she's done.  My uncle and aunt both tried and failed; I was rather
+disappointed, because after all one would have thought that they would
+be able to deal with a thing like that, wouldn't one?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He paused again, but she only said "Yes" and hurried on.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"So now I'm at my wits' end and I thought that you might help me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why not your father?" she said suddenly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah! that's just it," he answered eagerly.  "That's where I wanted you
+to give me your advice.  You see&mdash;well, it's a little hard to
+explain&mdash;we weren't very nice to the governor when he came back
+first&mdash;the first day or two, I mean.  He was&mdash;well, different&mdash;didn't
+look at things as we did; liked different things and had strong views
+about knocking down the Cove.  So we went on our way and didn't pay
+much attention to him&mdash;I daresay he's told you all about it&mdash;and I'm
+sorry enough now, although it really was largely his own fault!  I
+don't think he seemed to want us to have much to do with him, and then
+one day Clare spoke to him about things and asked him to consider us a
+little and he flared up.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I've a sort of idea that he could help us now&mdash;at any rate,
+there's no one else.  Aunt Clare said that she would ask him, but you
+know him better than any of us, and, of course, it is a little
+difficult for us, after the way that we've spoken to him; you might
+help us, I thought."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He couldn't be sure, even now, that Mary had been listening&mdash;she looked
+so strange this evening that he was afraid of her, and half wished that
+he had kept his affairs to himself.  She was silent for a moment,
+because she was wondering what it was that Harry had really done about
+the letters.  It was amusing, because they obviously didn't know that
+she had told him&mdash;but what had he done?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do you want me to help you, Robin?" she asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, of course," he answered eagerly.  "You know him so well and could
+get him to do things that he would never do for us.  I'm afraid of him,
+or rather have been just lately.  I don't know what there is about him
+exactly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You want me to help you?" she asked again.  "Well then, you've got to
+put up with a bit of my mind&mdash;you've caught me in a bad mood, and I
+don't care whether it hurts you or not&mdash;you're in for a bit of plain
+speaking."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He looked up at her with surprise, but said nothing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I know I'm no very great person myself," she went on
+quickly&mdash;almost fiercely.  "I've only known in the last few weeks how
+rotten one can really be, but at least I have known&mdash;I do know&mdash;and
+that's just what you don't.  We've been friends for some time, you and
+I&mdash;but if you don't look out, we shan't be friends much longer."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why?" he asked quietly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You were never very much good," she went on, paying no attention to
+his question, "and always conceited, but that was your aunt's fault as
+much as any one's, and she gave you that idea of your family&mdash;that you
+were God's own chosen people and that no one could come within speaking
+distance of you&mdash;you had that when you were quite a little boy, and you
+seem to have thought that that was enough, that you need never do
+anything all your life just because you were a Trojan.  Eton helped the
+idea, and when you went up to Cambridge you were a snob of the first
+order.  I thought Cambridge would knock it out of you, but it didn't;
+it encouraged you, and you were always with people who thought as you
+did, and you fancied that your own little corner of the earth&mdash;your own
+little potato-patch&mdash;was better than every one else's gardens; I
+thought you were a pretty poor thing when you came back from Cambridge
+last year, but now you've beaten my expectations by a good deal&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I say&mdash;&mdash;" he broke in&mdash;"really I&mdash;&mdash;" but she went on unheeding&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Instead of working and doing something like any decent man would, you
+loafed along with your friends learning to tie your tie and choosing
+your waistcoat-buttons; you go and make love to a decent girl and then
+when you've tired of her tell her so, and seem surprised at her hitting
+back.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then at last when there is a chance of your seeing what a man is
+like&mdash;that he isn't only a man who dresses decently like a tailor's
+model&mdash;when your father comes back and asks you to spend a few of your
+idle hours with him, you laugh at him, his manners, his habits, his
+friends, his way of thinking; you insult him and cut him dead&mdash;your
+father, one of the finest men in the world.  Why, you aren't fit to
+brush his clothes!&mdash;but that isn't the worst!  Now&mdash;when you find
+you're in a hole and you want some one to help you out of it and you
+don't know where to turn, you suddenly think of your father.  He wasn't
+any good before&mdash;he was rough and stupid, almost vulgar, but now that
+he can help you, you'll turn and play the dutiful son!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's you as you are, Robin Trojan&mdash;you asked me for it and you've
+got it; it's just as well that you should see yourself as you are for
+once in your life&mdash;you'll forget it all again soon enough.  I'm not
+saying it's only you&mdash;it's the lot of you&mdash;idle, worthless, snobbish,
+empty, useless.  Help you?  No!  You can go to your father yourself and
+think yourself lucky if he will speak to you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mary stopped for lack of breath.  Of course, he couldn't know that
+she'd been attacking herself as much as him, that, had it not been for
+that scene three days ago, she would never have spoken at all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I say!" he said quietly, "is it really as bad as that?  Am I that sort
+of chap?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes.  You know it now at least."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's not quite fair.  I am only like the rest.  I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, but why should you be?  Fancy being proud that you are like the
+rest!  One of a crowd!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They turned up the road to her house, and she began to relent when she
+saw that he was not angry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," he said, nodding his head slowly, "I expect you're about right,
+Mary.  Things have been happening lately that have made everything
+different&mdash;I've been thinking ...  I see my father differently...."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then, "How could you?" she cried.  "<I>You</I> to cut him and turn him out?
+Oh!  Robin! you weren't always that sort&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," he answered.  "I wasn't once.  In Germany I was different&mdash;when I
+got away from things&mdash;but it's harder here"&mdash;and then again
+slowly&mdash;"But am I really as bad as that, Mary?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sudden compunction seized her.  What right had she to speak to him?
+After all, he was only a boy, and she was every bit as bad herself.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  I don't know!" she said wearily.  "I'm all out of sorts to-night,
+Robin.  We're neither of us fit to speak to him, and you've treated him
+badly, all of you&mdash;I oughtn't to have spoken as I did, perhaps; but
+here we are!  You'd better forget it, and another day I'll tell you
+some of the nice things about you&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Am I that sort of chap?" he said again, staring in front of him with
+his hand on the gate.  She said good-night and left him standing in the
+road.  He turned up the hill, with his head bent.  He was scarcely
+surprised and not at all angry.  It only seemed the climax to so many
+things that had happened lately&mdash;"a snob"&mdash;"a pretty poor thing"&mdash;"You
+don't work, you learn to choose your waistcoat-buttons"&mdash;that was the
+kind of chap he was.  And his father: "One of the finest men there
+is&mdash;&mdash;"  He'd missed his chance, perhaps, he would never get it again!
+But he would try!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He passed into the garden and fumbled for his latch-key.  He would
+speak to his father to-morrow!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mary was quite right ... he <I>was</I> a "pretty poor thing!"
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap14"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER XIV
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+That night was never forgotten by any one at "The Flutes."  Down in the
+servants' hall they prolonged their departure for bed to a very late
+hour, and then crept, timorously, to their rooms; they were extravagant
+with the electric light, and dared Benham's anger in order to secure a
+little respite from terrible darkness.  Stories were recalled of Sir
+Jeremy's kindness and good nature, and much speculation was indulged in
+as to his successor&mdash;the cook recalled her early youth and an
+engagement with a soldier that aroused such sympathy in her hearers
+that she fraternised, unexpectedly, with Clare's maid&mdash;a girl who had
+formerly been considered "haughty," but was now found to be agreeable
+and pleasant.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Above stairs there was the same restlessness and sense of uneasy
+expectancy.  Clare went to bed, but not to sleep.  Her mind was not
+with her father&mdash;she had been waiting for his death during many long
+weeks, and now that the time had arrived she could scarcely think of it
+otherwise than calmly.  If one had lived like a Trojan one would die
+like one&mdash;quietly, becomingly, in accordance with the best traditions.
+She was sure that there would be something ready for Trojans in the
+next world a little different from other folks' destiny&mdash;something
+select and refined&mdash;so why worry at going to meet it?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+No, it was not Sir Jeremy, but Robin.  Throughout the night she heard
+the clocks striking the quarters; the first light of dawn crept timidly
+through the shuttered blinds, the full blaze of the sun streamed on to
+her bed&mdash;and she could not sleep.  The conversation of the day before
+recalled itself syllable for syllable; she read into it things that had
+never been there and tortured herself with suspicion and doubt.  Robin
+was different&mdash;utterly different.  He was different even from a week
+ago when he had first told them of the affair.  She could hear his
+voice as he had bent over her asking her to forgive him; that had
+seemed to her then the hour of her triumph&mdash;but now she saw that it was
+the premonition of defeat.  How she had worked for him, loved him,
+spoilt him; and now, in these weeks, her lifework was utterly undone.
+And then, in the terrible loneliness of her room, with the darkness on
+the world and round her bed and at her heart, she wept&mdash;terrible,
+tearless sobbing that left her in the morning weak, unstrung, utterly
+unequal to the day.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This conversation with Robin had also worried Garrett.  The consolation
+that he had frequently found in the reassuring comforts of his study
+seemed utterly wanting to-night.  The stillness irritated him;  it
+seemed stuffy, close, and he had an overmastering desire for a
+companion.  This desire he conquered, because he felt that it would be
+scarcely dignified to search the byways of the house for a friend; but
+he listened for steps, and fancied over and over again that he heard
+the eagerly anticipated knock.  But no one came, and he sat far into
+the night, fancying strange sounds and trembling at the dark; and at
+last fell asleep in his chair, and was discovered in an undignified
+position on the floor in the early morning by the politely astonished
+Benham.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But it was for Harry that the night most truly marked a crisis.  He
+spent it in vigil by the side of his father, and watched the heavy
+passing of the hours, like grey solemn figures through the darkened
+room.  The faint glimmer of the electric light, heavily shaded, assumed
+fantastic and portentous shapes and fleecy enormous shadows on the
+white surface of the staring walls.  Strange blue shadows glimmered
+through the black caverns of the windows, and faint lights came from
+beneath the door, and hovered on the ceiling like mysteriously moving
+figures.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sir Jeremy was perfectly still.  Death had come to him very gently and
+had laid its hand quietly upon him, with no violence or harshness.  It
+was only old age that had greeted him as a friend, and then with a
+smile had persuaded him to go.  He was unconscious now, but at any
+moment his senses might return, and then he would ask for Harry.  The
+crisis might come at any time, and Harry must be there.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He felt no weariness; his brain was extraordinarily active and he
+passed every incident since his return in review.  It all seemed so
+clear to him now; the inevitability of it all; and his own blindness in
+escaping the meaning of it.  It seemed now that he had known nothing of
+the world at all three weeks ago.  Then he had judged it from his own
+knowledge&mdash;now he saw it in many lights; the point of view of Robin, of
+Dahlia Feverel, of Clare, of Sir Jeremy, of Bethel, of Mary&mdash;he had
+arrived at the great knowledge that Life could be absolutely right for
+many different sorts of people&mdash;that the same life, like a globe of
+flashing colours, could shine into every corner of obscurity, gleaming
+differently in every different place and yet be unchangeable.
+Murderer, robber, violator, saint, priest, king, beggar&mdash;they were all
+parts of a wonderful, inevitable world, and, he saw it now, were all of
+them essential.  He had been tolerant before from a wide-embracing
+charity; he was tolerant now from a wide-embracing knowledge: "Er
+liebte jeden Hund, und wünschte von jedem Hund geliebt zu sein."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had all learnt in that last three weeks.  Dahlia Feverel would
+pass into the world with that struggle at her heart and the strength of
+her victory&mdash;his father would solve the greatest question of
+all&mdash;Robin!  Mary!  Clare!&mdash;they had all been learning too, but what it
+was that they had learnt he could not yet tell; the conclusion of the
+matter was to come.  But it had all been, for him at least, only a
+prelude; he was to stand for the world as head of the House, he had his
+life before him and his work to do, he had only, like Robin, just "come
+of age."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He did not know why, but he had no longer any doubt.  He knew that he
+would win Robin, he knew that he would win Mary; up to that day he had
+been uncertain, vacillating, miserable&mdash;but now he had no longer any
+hesitation.  The work of his life was to fit Robin for his due
+succession, and, please God, he would do it with all his heart and soul
+and strength; there was to be no false sentiment, no shifting of
+difficult questions, no hiding from danger, no sheltering blindly under
+unquestioned creeds, no false bids for popularity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin was to be clean, straight, and sane, with all the sturdy
+cleanliness and strength and sanity that his father's love and
+knowledge could give him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Oh! he loved his son!&mdash;but no longer blindly, as he had loved him three
+weeks ago ... and so he faced his future.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And of Mary, too, he was sure.  He knew that she loved him; he had seen
+her face in the mirror as her lips had said "No," and he saw that her
+heart had said "Yes."  With the new strength that had come to him he
+vowed to force her defences and carry her away....  Oh! he could be any
+knight and fight for any lady.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But as he sat by the bed, watching the dawn struggle through the blinds
+and listening to the faint, clear twittering of birds in the grey,
+dew-swept garden&mdash;he wished that he could tell his father of his
+engagement.  He wondered if there would be time.  That it would please
+the old man he knew, and it would seal the compact, and place a secret
+blessing on their married life together.  Yes, he would like to tell
+him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The clocks struck five&mdash;he heard their voices echo through the house;
+and, at the last, the tiny voice of the cuckoo clock sounded and the
+little wild flap of his wings came quite clearly through the silence;
+his voice was answered by a chorus from the garden, the voices of the
+birds seemed to grow ever louder and louder; in that strange dark room,
+with its shaded lights and heavy airs, it was clear and fresh like the
+falling of water on cold, shining stone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry went softly to the window and drew back a corner of the blind.
+The dawn was gradually revealing the forms and colours of the garden,
+and in the grey, misty light things were mysterious and uncertain; like
+white lights in a dusky room the two white statues shone through the
+mist.  At that strange hour they seemed in their right atmosphere; they
+seemed to move and turn and bend&mdash;he could have fancied that they
+sailed on the mist&mdash;that, for a moment, they had vanished and then that
+they had grown enormous, monstrous.  He watched them eagerly, and as
+the light grew clearer he made them out more plainly&mdash;the straight,
+eager beauty of the man, the dim, mysterious grace of the woman.
+Perhaps they talked in those early hours when they were alone in the
+garden; perhaps they might speak to him if he were to join them then.
+Then he fancied that the mist formed into figures of men and women; to
+his excited fancy the garden seemed peopled with shapes that increased
+and dwindled and vanished.  Round the statues many shapes gathered; one
+in especial seemed to walk to and fro with its face turned to the
+house.  It was a woman&mdash;her grey dress floated in the air, and he saw
+her form outlined against the statue.  Then the mist seemed to sweep
+down again and catch the statues in its eddies and hide them from his
+gaze.  The dawn was breaking very slowly.  From the window the sweep of
+the sea was, in daylight, perfectly visible: now in the dim grey of the
+sky it was hidden&mdash;but Harry knew where it must be and watched for its
+appearance.  The first lights were creeping over the sky, breaking in
+delicate tints and ripples of silver and curving, arc-shaped, from the
+west to the east.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Where sky and sea divided a faint pale line of grey hovered and broke,
+turning into other paler lights of the most delicate blue.  The dawn
+had come.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He turned back again to the garden and started with surprise: in the
+more certain light there was no doubt that it was a woman who stood
+there by the statues, guarding the first early beauties of the garden.
+Everything was pearl-grey, save where, high above the water of the
+fountain that stood in the centre of the lawn, the sky had broken into
+a little lake of the palest blue and this was reflected in the still
+mirror of the fountain&mdash;but it <I>was</I> a woman.  He could see the outline
+of her form&mdash;the bend of her neck as she turned with her face to the
+house, the straight line of her arms as they tell at her sides.  And,
+as he looked, his heart began to beat thickly.  He seemed to recognise
+that carriage of the body from the hips, the fling-back of the head as
+she stared towards the windows.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The light of the dawn was breaking over the garden, the chorus of the
+birds was loud in the trees, and he knew that it was no dream.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He glanced for a moment at his father, and then crept softly from the
+room.  He found one of the nurses making tea over a spirit-lamp in the
+dressing-room and asked her to take his place.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The house was perfectly silent as he opened the French window of the
+drawing-room and stepped on to the lawn.  The grass was heavy with dew
+and the fresh air beat about his face; he had never known anything
+quite so fresh&mdash;the air, the grass, the trees, the birds' song like the
+sound of hidden waters tumbling on to some unseen rock.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Her face was turned away from him and his feet made no sound on the
+grass.  He came perfectly silently towards her, and then when he saw
+that it had indeed been no imagination but that it was reality, and
+when he knew all that her coming there meant and what it implied, for
+moment his limbs shook so that he could scarcely stand.  Then he
+laughed a little and said "Mary!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She turned with a little cry, and when she saw who it was the crimson
+flooded her face, changing it as the rising sun was soon to change the
+grey of the sea and the garden.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!" she cried, "I didn't know&mdash;I didn't mean.  I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is going to be a lovely day," he said quietly, "the sun will be up
+in a moment.  I have been watching you from my father's window."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  You mustn't!" she cried eagerly.  "I thought that I was
+safe&mdash;absolutely; I was here quite by chance&mdash;really I was&mdash;I couldn't
+sleep, and I thought that I would watch the sunrise over the sea&mdash;and I
+went down to the beach&mdash;and then&mdash;well, there was the little wood by
+your garden, and it was so wonderfully still and silent, and I saw
+those statues gleaming through the trees, and they looked so beautiful
+that I came nearer.  I meant to come only for a moment and then go away
+again&mdash;but&mdash;I&mdash;stayed&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he could scarcely hear what she said; he only saw her standing
+there with her dress trembling a little in the breeze.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mary," he said, "you did not mean what you told me the other day?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She looked at him for a moment and then suddenly flung out her hands
+and touched his coat.  "No," she answered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For a moment they were utterly silent.  Then he took her into his arms.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I love you!  How I love you!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Her hair was about his face, for a moment her face was buried in his
+coat, then she lifted it and their lips met.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He shook from head to foot, he crushed her to him, then he released her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She glanced up at him with her hand still touching his coat and looked
+into his eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will love you and serve you and honour you always," she said.  She
+took his arm and they passed down the lawn and watched the light
+breaking over the sea.  The sky was broken into thousands of fleecy
+clouds of mother-of-pearl&mdash;the sea was trembling as though the sun had
+whispered that it was near at hand, and, on the horizon, the first bars
+of pale gold heralded its coming.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have loved you," he said, "since the first moment that I saw you&mdash;I
+gave you tea and muffins; I deserted the Miss Ponsonbys in order to
+serve you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And I too!" she answered, laughing.  "I could not eat the muffin for
+love of you, and I was jealous of the Miss Ponsonbys!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why did you turn me out the other day?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They had been talking&mdash;mother and the others; and I was hurt terribly,
+and I thought that you would hear what they had said and would think,
+perhaps, that it was true and would despise me.  And then after you had
+gone, I knew that nothing in the world could make any difference&mdash;that
+they could say what they pleased, but that I could not live without
+you&mdash;you see I am very young!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, and I am so old, dear!  You mustn't forget that!  Do you think
+that you could ever put up with any one as old as I am?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She laughed.  "You are just the same age as myself," she cried.  "You
+will always be the same age, and I am not sure but I think that you are
+younger&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And suddenly the sun had risen&mdash;a great ball of fire changing all the
+blue of the sky to red and gold, and they watched as the gods had
+watched the flaming ruin of Valhalla.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the daylight drove them to other thoughts.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I must go back," she said.  "I will go down to the shore and perhaps
+will meet father.  Oh! you don't know what I have suffered during these
+last few days.  I thought that perhaps I had driven you away and that
+you would never come back&mdash;and then I had a silly idea that I would
+watch your windows&mdash;and so I came&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why!  I have watched yours!" he cried&mdash;"often!  Oh! we will have some
+times!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But you must remember that there will be three of us," she answered.
+"There is Robin!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin!  Why, it will be splendid!  You and Robin and I!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Poor Robin&mdash;&mdash;"  She laughed.  "You don't know how I scolded him last
+night.  It was about you and I was unhappy.  He is changing fast, and
+it is because of you.  He has come round&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We have all come round!" cried Harry.  "He and you and I!  Oh! this is
+the beginning of the world for all of us&mdash;and I am forty-five!  Will
+you write to me later in the day?  I cannot get down until to-night.
+My father is very ill&mdash;I must be here.  But write to me&mdash;a long
+letter&mdash;it will be as though you were talking."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She laughed.  "Yes, I'll write," she cried; then she looked at him
+again&mdash;"I love you," she said, as though she were reciting her faith,
+"because you are good, because you are strong, because&mdash;oh! for no
+reason at all&mdash;just because you are you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For a moment they watched the sea, and then again he took her in his
+arms and held her as though he would never let her go&mdash;then she
+vanished through the trees.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The house was waking into life as he re-entered it; servants were astir
+at an early hour: he had been away such a little time, but the world
+was another place.  Every detail of the house&mdash;the stairs, the hall,
+the windows, the clocks, the pot-pourri scent from the bowls of dried
+roses, the dance of the dust in the light of the rising sun, was
+presented to him now with a new meaning.  He was glad that she had
+stayed with him such a little while&mdash;it made it more precious, her
+coming with the shadows in that grey of breaking skies and a mysterious
+plunging sea, and then vanishing with the rising sun.  Oh! they would
+come down to earth soon enough!&mdash;let him keep that kiss, those few
+words, her last smile as she vanished into the wood, like the visible
+signs of the other world that had, at last, been allowed to him.  The
+vision of the Grail had passed from his eyes, but the memory of it was
+to be his most sacred possession.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He went to his room, had a bath, and then returned to his father; of
+course, he could not sleep.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare, Garrett, and Robin met at breakfast with the sense of
+approaching calamity heavy upon them.  As far as Sir Jeremy himself was
+concerned there was little real regret&mdash;how could there be?  Of course,
+there was the sentiment of separation, the breaking of a great many
+ties that had been strong and traditional; but it was better that the
+old man should go&mdash;of that there was no question.  Sir Jeremy himself
+would rather.  No, "Le roi est mort" was easy enough to say, but how
+"Vive le roi" stuck in their throats.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett hinted at a wretched night, and quoted Benham on the dangers of
+an arm-chair at night-time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course, one had been thinking," he said vaguely, after a melancholy
+survey of eggs and bacon that developed into resignation over dry
+toast&mdash;"there was a good deal to think about.  But I certainly had
+intended to go to bed&mdash;I can't imagine what&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin said nothing.  His mind was busy with Mary's speech of the night
+before; his world lay crumbled about him, and, like Cato, he was
+finding a certain melancholy satisfaction in its ruins.  His thoughts
+were scarcely with his grandfather; he felt vaguely that there was
+Death in the house and that its immediate presence was one of the
+things that had helped to bring his self-content about his ears.  But
+it was of his father that he was thinking, and of a certain morning
+when he had refused a walk.  If he got a chance again!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare looked wretched.  Robin thought that she had never seemed so ill
+before; there was, for the first time, an air of carelessness about
+her, as though she had flung on her clothes anyhow&mdash;something utterly
+unlike her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am going to speak to Harry this morning," she said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett looked up peevishly.  "Scarcely the time, Clare.  I should say
+that it were better for us to wait until&mdash;well, afterwards.  There is,
+perhaps, something a little indecent&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have considered the matter carefully," interrupted Clare decisively.
+"This is the best time&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, well, of course.  Only I should have thought that I might have had
+just a little say in the matter.  I was, after all, originally
+consulted as well as yourself.  I saw the girl, and was even, I might
+venture to suggest, with her for some time.  But, of course, a mere
+man's opinion&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, don't be absurd, Garrett.  It is I that have to ask him&mdash;it is
+pretty obvious that I have every right to choose my own time."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  Please, don't let me interfere&mdash;only I should scarcely have
+thought that this was quite the moment when Harry would be most
+inclined to listen to you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If we don't ask him now," she answered, "there's no knowing when we
+shall have the opportunity.  When poor father is gone he will have a
+great deal to settle and decide; he will have no time for anything at
+all for months ahead.  This morning is our last chance."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she had another thought.  Her great desire now was that he should
+try and fail; that he would fail she was sure.  She was eagerly
+impatient for that day when he must come to them and admit his failure.
+She looked ahead and fashioned that scene for herself&mdash;that scene when
+Robin should know and confess that his father was only as the rest of
+them; that their failure was his failure, their incapacity his
+incapacity&mdash;and then the balance would be restored and Robin would see
+as he had seen before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Coffee, Robin?  It's quite hot still.  I saw Dr. Brady just now.  He
+says that there is no change, nor is there likely to be one for some
+hours.  You're looking tired, Robin, old boy.  Have you been sleeping
+on the floor, too?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No!"  He looked up and smiled.  "But I was awake a good bit.  The
+house is different somehow, when&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh yes, I know.  One feels it, of course.  But eating's much the best
+thing for keeping one's spirits up.  I suppose Harry is coming down.
+Just find out from Benham, will you, Wilder, whether Mr. Henry is
+coming down?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The footman left the room, returning in a moment with the answer that
+Mr. Henry was about to come down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Garrett moved to the door, but Clare stopped him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I want you, Garrett&mdash;you can bear me out!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I thought that my opinion was of so little importance," he answered
+sulkily, "that I might as well go."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he sat down again and buried himself in his paper.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They waited, and Robin made mental comparisons with a similar scene a
+week before; there were still the silver teapot, the toast, the
+ham&mdash;they were all there, and it was only he himself who had altered.
+Only a week, and what a difference!  What a cad he had been! a howling
+cad!  Not only to his father, but to Dahlia, to every one with whom he
+had had to do.  He did not spare himself; he had at least the pluck to
+go through with it&mdash;<I>that</I> was Trojan.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At Harry's entrance there was an involuntary raising of eyebrows to
+see, if possible, how <I>he</I> took it; <I>it</I> being his own immediate
+succession rather than his father's death.  He was grave, of course,
+but there was a light in his eyes that Clare could not understand.  Had
+he some premonition of her request?  He apologised for being late.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have been up most of the night.  There is no immediate danger of a
+change, but we ought, I think, to be ready.  Yes, the toast, Robin,
+please&mdash;I hope you've slept all right, Clare?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+How quickly he had picked up the manner, she reflected, as she watched
+him!  But of course that was natural enough; once a Trojan, always a
+Trojan, and no amount of colonies will do away with it.  But three
+weeks was a short time for so vast a change.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, Harry, not very well&mdash;of course, it weighs on one rather."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She sighed and rose from the breakfast-table; she looked terribly tired
+and Harry was suddenly sorry for her, and, for the first time since the
+night of his return, felt that they were brother and sister; but after
+the adventure of the early morning it was as though he were related to
+the whole world&mdash;Love and Death had drawn close to him, and, with the
+sound of the beating of their wings, the world had revealed things to
+him that had, in other days, been secrets.  Love and Death were such
+big things that his personal relations with Clare, with Garrett, even
+with Robin, had assumed their true proportion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Clare, you're tired!" he said.  "I should go and lie down again.  You
+shall be told if anything happens."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, thanks, Harry.  I wanted to ask you something&mdash;but, perhaps, first
+I ought to apologise for some of the things that I said the other day.
+I said more than I meant to.  I am sorry&mdash;but one forgets at times that
+one has no right to meddle in other people's affairs.  But now
+I&mdash;we&mdash;all of us&mdash;want to ask you a favour&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes?" he said, looking up.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, of course, this is scarcely the time.  But it is something that
+can hardly wait, and you can decide about acting yourself&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She paused.  It was the very hardest thing that she had ever had to do,
+and she would never forget it to the day of her death.  But it was
+harder for Robin; he sat there with flaming cheeks and his head
+hanging&mdash;he could not look at his father.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is to do with Robin&mdash;" Clare went on; "he was rather afraid to ask
+you about it himself, because, of course, it is not a business of which
+he is very proud, and so he has asked me to do it for him.  It is a
+girl&mdash;a Miss Feverel&mdash;whom he met at Cambridge and to whom he had
+written letters, letters that gave the young woman some reasons to
+suppose that he was offering her marriage.  He saw the matter more
+wisely after a time and naturally wished Miss Feverel to restore the
+letters, but this she refused to do.  Both Garrett and myself have done
+what we could and have, I am afraid, failed.  Miss Feverel is quite
+resolute&mdash;most obstinately so.  We are afraid that she may take steps
+that would be unpleasant to all of us&mdash;it is rather worrying us, and we
+thought&mdash;it seemed&mdash;in short, I determined to ask you to help us.  With
+your wider experience you will probably know the best way in which to
+deal with such a person."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare paused.  She had put it as drily as possible, but it was,
+nevertheless, humiliating.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was a pause.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am scarcely surprised," said Harry, "that Robin is ashamed of the
+affair."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course he is," answered Clare eagerly, "bitterly ashamed."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I suppose you made love to&mdash;ah&mdash;Miss Feverel?" he said, turning
+directly to Robin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," said Robin, lifting his head and facing his father.  As their
+eyes met the colour rushed to his cheeks.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It was a rotten thing to do," said Harry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have been very much ashamed of myself," answered Robin.  "I would
+make Miss Feverel any apology that is in my power, but there seems to
+be little that I can do."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry said no more.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am really sorry," said Clare at last, "to speak about a business
+like this just now&mdash;but really there is no time to lose.  I am sure
+that you will do something to prevent trouble in the Courts, and that
+is what Miss Feverel seems to threaten."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you want me to do?" he asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"To see her&mdash;to see her and try and arrange some compromise&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I should have thought that Robin was the proper person&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He has tried and failed; she would not listen to him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then I am afraid that she will not listen to me&mdash;a perfect stranger
+with no claims on her interest."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is precisely that.  You will be able to put it on a business
+footing, because sentiment does not enter into the question at all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do you want me to help you, Robin?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At the direct question Robin looked up again.  His father looked very
+stern and judicial.  It was the schoolmaster rather than the parent,
+but, after all, what else could he expect?  So he said, quite
+simply&mdash;"Yes, father."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But at this moment there was an interruption.  With the hurried opening
+of the door there came the sounds of agitated voices and steps in the
+passage&mdash;then Benham appeared.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Sir Jeremy is worse, Mr. Henry.  The doctor thinks that, perhaps&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry hurriedly left the room.  Absolute silence reigned.  The sudden
+arrival of the long-expected crisis was terrifying.  They sat like
+statues, staring in front of them, and listening eagerly to every
+sound.  The monotonous ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece was
+terrifying&mdash;the clock on the wall by the door seemed to run a race.
+The "tick-tock" grew faster and faster&mdash;at last it was as if both
+clocks were screaming aloud.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The room was filled with the clamour, and through it all they sat
+motionless and silent.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In a moment Harry had returned.  "All of you," he said quickly&mdash;"he
+would like to see you&mdash;I am afraid&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After that Robin was confused and saw nothing clearly.  As he crept
+tremblingly up the stairs everything assumed gigantic and menacing
+shapes&mdash;the clock, the pot-pourri bowls, the window-curtains, and the
+brass rods on the stairs.  In the room there was that grey half-light
+that seemed so terrible, and the spurt and crackle of the fire seemed
+to fill the place with sounds.  He scarcely saw his grandfather.  In
+the centre of the bed, something was lying; the eyes gleamed for a
+moment in the light of the fire, the lips seemed to move.  But he did
+not realise that those things were his grandfather whom he had known
+for so many years&mdash;in another hour he would be dead.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the things that he saw were the shadows of the fire on the wall,
+the dancing in the air of the only lock of hair that Dr. Brady
+possessed, the way that Clare's hands were folded as she stood silently
+by the bed, Uncle Garrett's waistcoat-buttons that shot little sparks
+of light into the room as he turned, ever so slightly, from side to
+side.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At a motion of the doctor's, he came forward to bid Sir Jeremy
+farewell.  As he bent over the bed panic seized him&mdash;he did not see Sir
+Jeremy but something horrible, terrible, ghoulish&mdash;Death.  Then he saw
+the old man's eyes, and they were twinkling; then he knew that he was
+speaking to him.  The words came with difficulty, but they were quite
+clear&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You'll be a good man, Robin&mdash;but listen to your father&mdash;he
+knows&mdash;he'll show you how to be a Trojan."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For a moment he held the wrinkled, shrivelled hand in his own, and then
+he stepped back.  Clare bent down and kissed her father, and then
+kneeled down by the bed; Robin had a mad longing to laugh as he saw his
+uncle and aunt kneeling there, their heads made enormous shadows on the
+wall.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry also bent down and kissed his father; the old man held his hand
+and kept it&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've tried to be a fair man and a gentleman&mdash;I've not been a good one.
+But I've had some fun and seen life&mdash;thank God, I was born a Trojan&mdash;so
+will the rest of you.  Harry, my boy, you're all right&mdash;you'll do.  I'm
+going, but I don't regret anything&mdash;your sins are experience&mdash;and the
+greatest sin of all is not having any."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His lips closed&mdash;as the fire flashed with the falling of a cavern of
+blazing coal his head rolled back on to the pillow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly he smiled&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dear old Harry!" he said, and then he died.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The shadows from the fire leapt and danced on the wall, and the
+kneeling figures by the bed flung grotesque shapes over the dead man.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap15"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER XV
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+It was five o'clock of the same day and Harry was asleep in front of
+his fire.  In the early hours of the afternoon the strain under which
+he had been during the past week began to assert itself, and every part
+of his body seemed to cry out for sleep.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His head was throbbing, his legs trembled, and strange lights and
+figures danced before his eyes; he flung himself into a chair in his
+small study at the top of the West Tower and fell asleep.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had grown to love that room very dearly: the great stretch of the
+sea and the shining sand with the grey bending hills hemming it in;
+that view was never the same, but with the passing of every cloud held
+new colours like a bowl of shining glass.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The room was bare and simple&mdash;that had been his own wish; a photograph
+of his first wife hung over the mantelpiece, a small sketch of Auckland
+Harbour, a rough drawing of the Terraces before their
+destruction&mdash;these were all his pictures.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had been trying to read since his return, and copies of "The Egoist"
+and some of Swinburne's poetry lay on the table; but the first had
+seemed incomprehensible to him and the second indecent, and he had
+abandoned them; but he <I>had</I> made one discovery, thanks to Bethel, Walt
+Whitman's "Leaves of Grass"&mdash;it seemed to him the greatest book that he
+had ever read, the very voicing of all his hopes and ideals and faith.
+Ah! that man knew!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Benham came in and drew the curtains.  He watched the sleeping man for
+a moment and nodded his head.  He was the right sort, Mr. Harry!  He
+would do!&mdash;and the Watcher of the House stole out again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry slept on, a great, dreamless sleep, grey and formless as sleep of
+utter exhaustion always is; then he suddenly woke to the dim twilight
+of the room, the orange glow of the dying fire, and the distant
+striking of the hour&mdash;it was six o'clock!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he lay back in his chair, dreamily, lazily watching the fire, his
+thoughts were of his father.  He had not known that he would regret him
+so intensely, but he saw now that the old man had meant everything to
+him during those first weeks of his return.  He thought of him very
+tenderly&mdash;his prejudices, his weaknesses, his traditions.  It was
+strange how alike they all were in reality, the Trojans!  Sir Jeremy,
+Clare, Garrett, Robin, himself, the same bedrock of traditional pride
+was there, it was only that circumstances had altered them
+superficially.  Three weeks ago Clare and he had seemed worlds apart,
+now he saw how near they were!  But for that very reason, they would
+never get on&mdash;he saw that quite clearly.  They knew too well the weak
+spots in each other's armour, and their pride would be for ever at war.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He did not want to turn her out&mdash;she had been there for all those years
+and it was her home; but he thought that she herself would prefer to
+go.  There was a charming place in Norfolk, Wrexhall Pogis, that had
+been let for years, and there was quite a pleasant little place in
+town, 3 Southwick Crescent&mdash;yes, she would probably prefer to go, even
+had he not meant to marry Mary.  The announcement of that little affair
+would be something in the nature of a thunderbolt.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was impossible for him to go&mdash;the head of the House must always live
+at "The Flutes."  But he knew already how much that House was going to
+mean to him, and so he guessed how much it must mean to Clare.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And to Robin?  What would Robin do?  Three weeks ago there could have
+been but one answer to that question&mdash;he would have followed his aunt.
+Now Harry was not so sure.  There was this affair of Miss Feverel;
+probably Robin would come to him about it and then they would be able
+to talk.  He had had that very day a letter from Dahlia Feverel.  He
+looked at it again now; it said:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"DEAR MR. TROJAN&mdash;Mother and I are leaving Pendragon to-morrow&mdash;for
+ever, I suppose&mdash;but before I go I thought that I should like to send
+you a little line to thank you for your kindness to me.  That sounds
+terribly formal, doesn't it? but the gratitude is really there, and
+indeed I am no letter-writer.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"You met a girl at the crisis in her life when there were two roads in
+front of her and you helped her to choose the right one.  I daresay
+that you thought that you did very little&mdash;it cannot have seemed very
+much, that short meeting that we had; but it made just the difference
+to me and will, I know, be to me a white stone from which I shall date
+my new life.  I am not a strong woman&mdash;I never shall be a strong
+woman&mdash;and it was partly because I thought that love for Robin was
+going to give me that strength that it hurt so terribly when I found
+that the love wasn't there.  The going of my love hurt every bit as
+much as the going of his&mdash;it had been something to be proud of.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"I relied on sentiment and now I am going to rely on work; those are
+the only two alternatives offered to women, and the latter is so often
+denied to them.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"I hope that it may, one day, give you pleasure to think that you once
+helped a girl to do the strong thing instead of the weak one.  Of
+course, my love for Robin has died, and I see him clearly now without
+exaggeration.  What happened was largely my fault&mdash;I spoilt him, I
+think, and helped his self-pride.  I know that he has been passing
+through a bad time lately, and I am sure that he will come to you to
+help him out of it.  He is a lucky fellow to have some one to help him
+like that&mdash;and then he will suddenly see that he has done a rather
+cruel thing.  Poor Robin! he will make a fine man one day.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"I have got a little secretaryship in London&mdash;nothing very big, but it
+will give me the work that I want; and, because you once said that you
+believed in me, I will try to justify your belief.  There! that is
+sentiment, isn't it!&mdash;and I have flung sentiment away.  Well, it is the
+last time!
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"Good-bye&mdash;I shall never forget.  Thank you.&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+Yours sincerely,<BR>
+DAHLIA FEVEREL."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+So perhaps, after all, Robin's mistakes had been for the good of all of
+them.  Mistake was, indeed, a slight word for what he had done, and,
+thinking of it even now, Harry's anger rose.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And she had been a nice girl, too, and a plucky one.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had answered her:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"MY DEAR MISS FEVEREL&mdash;I was extremely pleased to get your letter.  It
+is very good of you to speak as you have done about myself, but I
+assure you that what I did was of the smallest importance.  It was
+because you had pluck yourself that you pulled through.  You are quite
+right to fling away sentiment.  I came back to England three weeks ago
+longing to call every man my brother.  I thought that by a mere smile,
+a bending of the finger, the world was my friend for life.  I soon
+found my mistake.  Friendship is a very slow and gradual affair, and I
+distrust the mushroom growth profoundly.  Life isn't easy in that kind
+of way; you and I have found that out together.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"I wish you every success in your new life; I have no doubt whatever
+that you will get on, and I hope that you will let me hear sometimes
+from you.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"Things have been happening quickly during the last few days.  My
+father died this morning; he was himself glad to go, but I shall miss
+him terribly&mdash;he has been a most splendid friend to me during these
+weeks.  Then I know that you will be interested to hear that I am
+engaged to Miss Bethel&mdash;you know her, do you not?  I hope and believe
+that we shall be very happy.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"As to Robin, he has, as you say, been having a bad time.  To do him
+justice it has not been only the fear of the letters that has hung over
+him&mdash;he has also discovered a good many things about himself that have
+hurt and surprised him.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="letter">
+"Well, good-bye&mdash;I am sure that you will look back on the Robin episode
+with gratitude.  It has done a great deal for all of us.  Good luck to
+you!&mdash;Always your friend,
+<BR><BR>
+HENRY TROJAN."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+He turned on the lights in his room and tried to read, but he found
+that that was impossible.  His eyes wandered off the page and he
+listened: he caught himself again and again straining his ears for a
+sound.  He pictured the coming of steps up the stairs and then sharp
+and loud along the passage&mdash;then a pause and a knock on his door.
+Often he fancied that he heard it, but it was only fancy and he turned
+away disappointed; but he was sure that Robin would come.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had decided not to dine downstairs together on that evening&mdash;they
+were, all of them, overwrought and the situation was strained; they
+were wondering what he was going to do.  There were, of course, a
+thousand things to be done, but he was glad that they had left him
+alone for that night at any rate.  He wanted to be quiet.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had written a letter of enormous length to Mary, explaining to her
+what had happened and telling her that he would come to her in the
+morning.  It was very hard, even then, not to rush down to her, but he
+felt that he must keep that day at least sacred to his father.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Would Robin come?  It was quarter to seven and that terrible sleep was
+beginning to overcome him again.  The fire, the walls, the pictures,
+danced before his eyes ... the stories of the fishermen in the Cove
+came back to him ... the Four Stones and the man who had lost his way
+... the red tiles and the black rafters of "The Bended Thumb" ... and
+then Mary's beauty above it all.  Mary on the moors with the wind
+blowing through her hair; Mary in the house with the firelight on her
+face, Mary ... and then he suddenly started up, wide awake, for he
+heard steps on the stair.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He knew them at once&mdash;he never doubted that they were Robin's.  The
+last two steps were taken slowly and with hesitation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then he hurried down the passage as though he had suddenly made up his
+mind; then, again, there was a long pause before the door.  At last
+came the knock, timidly, and then another loudly and almost violently.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry shouted "Come in," and Robin entered, his face pale and his hands
+twisting and untwisting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, Robin&mdash;do you want anything?  Come in&mdash;sit down.  I've been
+asleep."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?  No, thanks, I won't sit down.  I've
+got some things I want to say.  I'd rather say them standing up."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was a long pause.  Harry said nothing and stared into the fire.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've got a good lot to say altogether."  Robin cleared his throat.
+"It's rather hard.  Perhaps this doesn't seem quite the time&mdash;after
+grandfather&mdash;and&mdash;everything&mdash;but I couldn't wait very well.  I've been
+a bit uncomfortable."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Out with it," said Harry.  "This time will do excellently&mdash;there's a
+pause just now, but to-morrow everything will begin again and there's a
+terrible lot to do.  What is it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Was it, he wondered, Robin's fault or his own that there was that
+barrier so strangely defined between them even now?  He could feel it
+there in the room with them now.  He wondered whether Robin felt it as
+well.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is about what my aunt said to you this morning&mdash;and other
+things&mdash;other things right from the beginning, ever since you came
+back.  I'm not much of a chap at talking, and probably I shan't say
+what I mean, but I will try.  I've been thinking about it all lately,
+but what made me come and speak to you was this morning&mdash;having to ask
+you a favour after being so rude to you.  A chap doesn't like doing
+that, and it made me think&mdash;besides there being other things."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, there's no need to thank me about this morning," Harry said drily;
+"I shall be very pleased to do what I can."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, it isn't that," Robin said quickly.  "It isn't about that somehow
+that I mind at all now; I have been worrying about it a good bit, but
+that isn't what I want to speak about.  I'll go through with it&mdash;Breach
+of Promise&mdash;or whatever it is&mdash;if only you wouldn't think me&mdash;well,
+quite an utter rotter."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I wish," said Harry quietly, "that you would sit down.  I'm sure that
+you would find it easier to talk."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin looked at him for a moment and then at the chair&mdash;then he sat
+down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You see, somehow grandfather's dying has made things seem different to
+one&mdash;it has made one younger somehow.  I used to think that I was
+really very old and knew a lot; but his death has shown me that I know
+nothing at all&mdash;really nothing.  But there have been a lot of things
+all happening together&mdash;your coming back, that business with
+Dahlia&mdash;Miss Feverel, you know&mdash;a dressing down that I got from Miss
+Bethel the other evening, and then grandfather's dying&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He paused again and cleared his throat.  He looked straight into the
+fire, and, every now and again, he gave a little choke and a gasp which
+showed that he was moved.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A chap doesn't like talking about himself," he went on at last; "no
+decent chap does; but unless I tell you everything from the beginning
+it will never be clear&mdash;I must tell you everything&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Please&mdash;I want to hear."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, you see, before you came back, I suppose that I had really lots
+of side.  I never used to think that I had, but I see now that what
+Mary said the other night was perfectly right&mdash;it wasn't only that I
+'sided' about myself, but about my set and my people and everything.
+And then you came back.  You see we didn't any of us very much think
+that we wanted you.  To begin with, you weren't exactly like my
+governor; not having seen you all my life I hadn't thought much about
+you at all, and your letters were so unlike anything that I knew that I
+hadn't believed them exactly.  We were very happy as we were.  I
+thought that I had everything I wanted.  And then you didn't do things
+as we did; you didn't like the same books and pictures or anything, and
+I was angry because I thought that I must know about those things and I
+couldn't understand you.  And then you know you made things worse by
+trying to force my liking out of me, and chaps of my sort are awfully
+afraid of showing their feelings to any one, least of all to a man&mdash;&mdash;"
+Robin paused.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," said Harry, "I know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But all this isn't an excuse really; I was a most awful cad, and
+there's no getting away from it.  But I think I began to see almost
+from the very beginning that I hadn't any right to behave like that,
+but I was obstinate.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And then I began to get in a fright about Miss Feverel.  She wouldn't
+give my letters back, although I went to her and Uncle Garrett and Aunt
+Clare&mdash;all of us&mdash;but it was no good&mdash;she meant to keep them and of
+course we knew why.  And then, too, I saw at last that I'd behaved like
+an utter cad&mdash;it was funny I didn't see it at the time.  But I'd seen
+other chaps do the same sort of thing and the girls didn't mind, and
+I'd thought that she ought to be jolly pleased at getting to know a
+Trojan&mdash;and all that sort of thing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But when I saw that she wasn't going to give the letters back but
+meant to use them I was terribly frightened.  It wasn't myself so much,
+although I hated the idea of my friends knowing about it all and
+laughing at me&mdash;but it was the House too&mdash;my letting it down so.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'd been thinking about you a good bit already.  You see you changed
+after Aunt Clare spoke to you that morning and I began to be rather
+afraid of you&mdash;and when a chap begins to be afraid of some one he
+begins to like him.  I got Aunt Clare and Uncle Garrett to go and speak
+to Dahlia, and they couldn't get anything out of her at all; so, then,
+I began to wonder whether you could do anything, and as soon as I began
+to wonder that I began to want to talk to you.  But I never got much
+chance; you were always in grandfather's room, and you didn't give me
+much encouragement, did you? and then&mdash;I began to be awfully miserable.
+I don't want to whine&mdash;I deserved it all right enough&mdash;but I didn't
+seem to have a friend anywhere and all my things that I'd believed in
+seemed to be worth nothing at all.  Then I wanted to talk to you
+awfully, and when grandfather was worse and was dying I began to see
+things straight&mdash;and then I saw Mary and she told me right out what I
+was, and I saw it all as clear as daylight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And so; well, I've come&mdash;not to ask you to help me about Dahlia&mdash;but
+whether you'll help me to play the game better.  I wasn't always slack
+and rotten like I am now.  When I was in Germany I thought I was going
+to do all sorts of things ... but anyhow I can't say exactly all that I
+mean.  Only I'm awfully lonely and terribly ashamed; and I want you to
+forgive me for being so beastly to you&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He looked wretched enough as he sat there facing the fire with his lip
+quivering.  He made a strong effort to control himself, but in a moment
+he had broken down altogether and hid his head in the arm of the chair,
+sobbing as if his heart would break.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry waited.  The moment for which he had longed so passionately had
+come at last; all those weary weeks had now received their reward.  But
+he was very tired and he could not remember anything except that his
+boy was there and that he was crying and wanted some one to help
+him&mdash;which was very sentimental.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He got up from his chair and put his hand on Robin's shoulder.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin, old boy&mdash;don't; it's all right really.  I've been waiting for
+you to come and speak to me; of course, I knew that you would come.
+Never mind about those other things&mdash;we're going to have a splendid
+time, you and I."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He put his arm round him.  There was a moment's silence, then the boy
+turned round and gripped his father's coat&mdash;then he buried his head in
+his father's knees.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+Benham entered half an hour later with Harry's evening meal.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will have mine here, too, Benham," said Robin, "with my father."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There is one thing, Robin," said Harry a little later, laughing&mdash;"what
+about the letters?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I know!"  Robin looked up at his father appealingly.  "I don't
+know what you must think of me over that business.  But I suppose I
+believed for a time in it all, and then when I saw that it wouldn't do
+I just wanted to get out of it as quickly as I could.  I never seem to
+have thought about it at all&mdash;and now I'm more ashamed than I can say.
+But I think I'll go through with it; I don't see that there's anything
+else very much for me to do, any other way of making up&mdash;I think I'd
+rather face it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Would you?" said Harry.  "What about your friends and the House?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin flinched for a moment; then he said resolutely, "Yes, it would be
+better for them too.  You see they know already&mdash;the House, I mean.
+All the chaps in the dining-hall and the picture-gallery, they've known
+about it all day, and I know that they'd rather I didn't back out of
+it.  Besides&mdash;" he hesitated a moment.  "There's another thing&mdash;I have
+the kind of feeling that I can't have hurt Dahlia so very much if she's
+the kind of girl to carry that sort of thing through; if, I mean, she
+takes it like that she isn't the sort of girl that would mind very much
+what I had done&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is she," said Harry, "that sort of girl?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, I don't think she is.  That's what's puzzled me about it all.  She
+was worth twenty of me really.  But any decent sort of girl would have
+given them back&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She has&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Given them back."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The letters?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry went to his writing-table and produced the bundle.  They lay in
+his hand with the blue ribbon and the neat handwriting, "For Robert
+Trojan," outside.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin stared.  "Not <I>the</I> letters?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;the letters; I have had them some days."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But still he did not move.  "<I>You've</I> had them?&mdash;several days?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes.  I went to see Miss Feverel on my own account and she gave me
+them&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You had them when we asked you to help us!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;of course.  It was a little secret of my own and Miss
+Feverel's&mdash;our&mdash;if you like&mdash;revenge."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And we've been laughing at you, scorning you; and we tried&mdash;all of
+us&mdash;and could do nothing!  I say, you're the cleverest man in England!
+Score!  Why I should think you have!" and then he added, "But I'm
+ashamed&mdash;terribly.  You have known all these days and said nothing&mdash;and
+I!  I wonder what you've thought of me&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He took the letters into his hand and undid the ribbon slowly.  "I'm
+jolly glad you've known&mdash;it's as if you'd been looking after the family
+all this time, while we were plunging around in the dark.  What a
+score!  That we should have failed and you so absolutely succeeded&mdash;"
+Then again, "But I'm jolly ashamed&mdash;I'll tell you everything&mdash;always.
+We'll work together&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He looked them through and then flung them into the fire.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've grown up," he suddenly cried; "come of age at last&mdash;at last I
+know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not too fast," said Harry, smiling; "it's only a stage.  There's
+plenty to learn&mdash;and we'll learn it together."  Then, after a pause,
+"There's another thing, though, that will astonish you a bit&mdash;I'm
+engaged&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Engaged!" Robin stared.  Quickly before his eyes passed visions of
+terrible Colonial women&mdash;some entanglement that his father had
+contracted abroad and had been afraid to announce before.  Well,
+whatever it might be, he would stand by him!  It was they two against
+the world whatever happened!&mdash;and Robin felt already the anticipatory
+glow of self-sacrificing heroism.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry smiled.  "Yes&mdash;Mary Bethel!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mary!  Hurrah!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He rushed at his father and seized his hand&mdash;"You and Mary!  Why, it's
+simply splendid!  The very thing&mdash;I'd rather it were she than any
+one!&mdash;she told me what she thought of me the other night, I can tell
+you&mdash;fairly went for me.  By Jove!  I'm glad&mdash;we'll have some times,
+three of us here together.  When was it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! only this morning!  I had asked her before, but it was only
+settled this morning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then Robin was suddenly grave.  "Oh! but, I say, there's Aunt
+Clare&mdash;and Uncle Garrett!"  He had utterly forgotten them.  What would
+they say?  The Bethels of all people!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes.  I've thought about it.  I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid Aunt
+Clare won't want to stay.  I don't see what's to be done.  I haven't
+told her yet&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Robin saw at once that he must choose his future; it was to be his aunt
+or his father.  His aunt with all those twenty years of faithful
+service behind her, his aunt who had done everything for him&mdash;or his
+father whom he had known for three weeks.  But he had no hesitation;
+there was now no question it was his father for ever against the world!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm sorry," he said slowly.  "Perhaps there will be some arrangement.
+Poor Aunt Clare!  Did you&mdash;tell grandfather?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No.  I wanted to, but I had no opportunity.  But he knows&mdash;I am sure
+that he knows."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Their thoughts passed to the old man.  It was almost as if he had been
+there in the room with them, and they felt, curiously, as though he had
+at that moment handed over the keys of the House.  For an instant they
+saw him; his eyes like diamonds, his wrinkled cheeks, his crooked
+fingers&mdash;and then his laugh.  "Harry, my boy, you'll do."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's almost as if he was here," said Robin.  He turned round and put
+his hand in his father's.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I know he's pleased," he said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And so it was during the next week, through the funeral, and the
+gathering of relatives and the gradual dispersing of them again, and
+the final inevitable seclusion when the world and the relations and the
+dead had all joined in leaving the family alone.  The gathering of
+Trojans had shown, beyond a doubt, that Harry was quite fitted to take
+his place at the head of the family.  He had acted throughout with
+perfect tact and everything had gone without a hitch.  Many a Trojan
+had arrived for the funeral&mdash;mournful, red-eyed Trojans, with black
+crape and an air of deferential resignation that hinted, also, at
+curiosity as regards the successor.  They watched Harry, ready for
+anything that might gratify their longing for sensational failure; a
+man from the backwoods was certain to fail, and their chagrined
+disappointment was only solaced by their certainty of some little
+sensation in the announcement of his surprising success.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Of course, Clare had been useful; it was on such an occasion that she
+appeared at her best.  She was kind to them all, but at the same time
+impressed the dignity of her position upon them, so that they went away
+declaring that Clare Trojan knew how to carry herself and was young for
+her years.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The funeral was an occasion of great ceremony, and the town attended in
+crowds.  Harry realised in their altered demeanour to himself their
+appreciation of the value of his succession, and he knew that Sir Henry
+Trojan was something very different from the plain Harry.  But he had,
+from the beginning, taken matters very quietly.  Now that he was
+assured of the affection of the only two people who were of importance
+to him he could afford to treat with easy acquiescence anything else
+that Fate might have in store for him.  His diffidence, had, to some
+extent, left him, and he took everything that came with an ease that
+had been entirely foreign to him three weeks before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare might indeed wonder at the change in him, for she had not the key
+that unlocked the mystery.  The week seemed to draw father and son very
+closely together.  Years seemed to have made little difference in their
+outlook on things, and in some ways Robin was the elder of the two.
+They said nothing about Mary&mdash;that was to wait until after the funeral;
+but the consciousness of their secret added to the bond between them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare herself regarded the future complacently.  She was, she felt,
+absolutely essential to the right ruling of the House, and she
+intended, gradually but surely, to restore her command above and below
+stairs.  The only possible lion in her path was Harry's marrying, but
+of that there seemed no fear at all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She admired him a little for his conduct during their father's funeral;
+he was not such an oaf as she had thought&mdash;but she would bide her time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At last, however, the thunderbolt fell.  It was a week after the
+funeral, and they had reached dessert.  Clare sometimes stayed with
+them while they smoked, and, as a rule, conversation was not very
+general.  To-night, however, she rose to go.  Her black suited her; her
+dark hair, her dark eyes, the dark trailing clouds of her dress&mdash;it was
+magnificently sombre against the firelight and the shine of the
+electric lamps on the silver.  But Harry's "Wait a moment, Clare, I
+want to talk," called her back, and she stood by the door looking over
+her shoulder at him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then when she saw from his glance that it was a matter of importance,
+she came back slowly again towards him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Another family council?" said Garrett rather impatiently.  "We have
+had a generous supply lately."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm afraid this is imperative," said Harry.  "I am sorry to bother
+you, Clare, but this seems to me the best time."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, any time suits me," she said indifferently, sitting down
+reluctantly.  "But if it's household affairs, I should think that we
+need hardly keep Garrett and Robin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is something that concerns us all four," said Harry.  "I am going
+to be married!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It had been from the beginning of things a Trojan dictum that the
+revealing of emotion was the worst of gaucheries&mdash;Clare, Garrett, and
+Robin himself had been schooled in this matter from their respective
+cradles; and now the lesson must be put into practice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For Robin, of course, it was no revelation at all, but he dared not
+look at his aunt; he understood a little what it must mean to her.  To
+those that watched her, however, nothing was revealed.  She stood by
+the fire, her hands at her side, her head slightly turned towards her
+brother.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Might I ask," she said quietly, "the name of the fortunate lady?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Bethel!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Bethel!"  Garrett sprang to his feet.  "Harry, you must be
+joking!  You can't mean it!  Not the daughter of Bethel at the
+Point&mdash;the madman!&mdash;the&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Please, Garrett," said Harry, "remember that she has promised to be my
+wife.  I am sorry, Clare&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He turned round to his sister.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she had said nothing.  She pulled a chair from the table and sat
+down, quietly, without obvious emotion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is a little unexpected," she said.  "But really if we had
+considered things it was obvious enough.  It is all of a piece.  Robin
+tried for Breach of Promise, the Bethels in the house before father has
+been buried for three days&mdash;the policy and traditions of the last three
+hundred years upset in three weeks."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course," said Harry, "I could scarcely expect you to welcome the
+change.  You do not know Miss Bethel.  I am afraid you are a little
+prejudiced against her.  And, indeed, please&mdash;please, believe me that
+it has been my very last wish to go counter in any way to your own
+plans.  But it has seemed almost unavoidable; we have found that one
+thing after another has arisen about which we could not agree.  Is it
+too late now to reconsider the position?  Couldn't we pull together
+from this moment?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she interrupted him.  "Come, Harry," she said, "whatever we are,
+let us avoid hypocrisy.  You have beaten me at every point and I must
+retire.  I have seen in three weeks everything that I had cared for and
+loved destroyed.  You come back a stranger, and without knowing or
+caring for the proper dignity of the House, you have done what you
+pleased.  Finally, you are bringing a woman into the House whose
+parents are beggars, whose social position makes her unworthy of such a
+marriage.  You cannot expect me to love you for it.  From this moment
+we cease to exist for each other.  I hope that I may never see you
+again or hear from you.  I shall not indulge in heroics or melodrama,
+but I will never forgive you.  I suppose that the house at Norfolk is
+at my disposal?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Certainly," he answered.  Then he turned to his brother.  "I hope,
+Garrett," he said, "that you do not feel as strongly about the matter
+as Clare.  I should be very glad if you found it possible to remain."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That gentleman was in a difficult position; he changed colour and tried
+to avoid his sister's eyes.  After a rapid survey of the position, he
+had come to the conclusion that he would not be nearly as comfortable
+in Norfolk&mdash;he could not write his book as easily, and the house had
+scarcely the same position of importance.  He had grown fond of the
+place.  Harry, after all, was not a bad chap&mdash;he seemed very anxious to
+be pleasant; and even Mary Bethel mightn't turn out so badly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You see, Clare," he said slowly, "there is the book&mdash;and&mdash;well, on the
+whole, I think it would be almost better if I remained; it is not, of
+course, that&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare's lip curled scornfully.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I understand, Garrett, you could scarcely be expected to leave such
+comforts for so slight a reason.  And you, Robin?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She held the chair with her hand as she spoke.  The fury at her heart
+was such that she could scarcely breathe; she was quite calm, but she
+had a mad desire to seize Harry as he sat there at the table and
+strangle him with her hands.  And Garrett!&mdash;the contemptible coward!
+But if only Robin would come with her, then the rest mattered little.
+After all, it had only been a fortnight ago when he had stood at her
+side and rejected his father.  The scene now was parallel&mdash;her voice
+grew soft and trembled a little as she spoke to him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin, dear, what will you do?  Will you come with me?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For a moment father and son looked at each other, then Robin answered&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I shall be very glad to come and stay sometimes, Aunt
+Clare&mdash;often&mdash;whenever you care to have me.  But I think that I must
+stay here.  I have been talking to father and I am going up to London
+to try, I think, for the Diplomatic.  We thought&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the "we" was too much for her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I congratulate you," she said, turning to Harry.  "You have done a
+great deal in three weeks.  It looks," she said, looking round the
+room, "almost like a conspiracy.  I&mdash;&mdash;"  Then she suddenly broke down.
+She bent down over Robin and caught his head between her hands&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin&mdash;Robin dear&mdash;you must come, you must, dear.  I brought you up&mdash;I
+have loved you&mdash;always&mdash;always.  You can't leave me now, old boy, after
+all that I have done&mdash;all, everything.  Why, he has done
+nothing&mdash;he&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She kissed him again and again, and caught his hands: "Robin, I love
+you&mdash;you&mdash;only in all the world; you are all that I have got&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he put her hands gently aside.  "Please&mdash;please&mdash;Aunt Clare, I am
+dreadfully sorry&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And then her pride returned to her.  She walked to the door with her
+head high.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will go to the Darcy's in London until that other house is ready.  I
+will go to-morrow&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She opened the door, but Harry sprang up&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Please, Clare&mdash;don't go like that.  Think over it&mdash;perhaps
+to-morrow&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, let me go," she answered wearily; "I'm tired."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She walked up the stairs to her room.  She could scarcely see&mdash;Robin
+had denied her!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She shut the door of her bedroom behind her and fell at the foot of her
+bed, her face buried in her hands.  Then at last she burst into a storm
+of tears&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Robin!  Robin!" she cried.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap16"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER XVI
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+It was Christmas Eve and the Cove lay buried in snow.  The sea was grey
+like steel, and made no sound as it ebbed and flowed up the little
+creek.  The sky was grey and snowflakes fell lazily, idly, as though
+half afraid to let themselves go; a tiny orange moon glittered over the
+chimneys of "The Bended Thumb."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Harry came out of the Inn and stood for a moment to turn up the collar
+of his coat.  The perfect stillness of the scene pleased him; the world
+was like the breathless moment before some great event: the opening of
+Pandora's box, the leaping of armed men from the belly of the wooden
+horse, the flashing of Excalibur over the mere, the birth of some
+little child.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He sighed as he passed down the street.  He had read in his morning
+paper that the Cove was doomed.  The word had gone forth, the Town
+Council had decided; the Cove was to be pulled down and a street of
+lodging-houses was to take its place.  Pendragon would be no longer a
+place of contrasts; it would be all of a piece, a completely popular
+watering-place.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The vision of its passing hurt him&mdash;so much must go with it; and
+gradually he saw the beauty and the superstition and the wonder being
+driven from the world&mdash;the Old World&mdash;and a hard Iron and Steel
+Materialism relentlessly taking its place.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he himself had changed; the place had had its influence on him, and
+he was beginning to see the beauty of these improvements, these
+manufactures, these hard straight lines and gaunt ugly squares.
+Progress?  Progress?  Inevitable?&mdash;yes!  Useful?&mdash;why, yes, too!  But
+beautiful?&mdash;Well, perhaps ... he did not know.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At the top of the hill he turned and saluted the cold grey sky and sea
+and moor.  The Four Stones were in harmony to-day: white, and
+pearl-grey, with hints of purple in their shadows&mdash;oh beautiful and
+mysterious world!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He went into the Bethels' to call for Mary.  Bethel appeared for a
+moment at the door of his study and shouted&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hullo!  Harry, my boy!  Frightfully busy cataloguing!  Going out for a
+run in a minute!"&mdash;the door closed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His daughter's engagement seemed to have made little difference to him.
+He was pleased, of course, but Harry wondered sometimes whether he
+realised it at all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Not so Mrs. Bethel.  Arrayed in gorgeous colours, she was blissfully
+happy.  She was at the head of the stairs now.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Just a minute, Harry&mdash;Mary's nearly ready.  Oh! my dear, you haven't
+been out in that thin waistcoat ... but you'll catch your death&mdash;just a
+minute, my dear, and let me get something warmer?  Oh do!  Now you're
+an obstinate, bad man!  Yes, a bad, bad man"&mdash;but at this moment
+arrived Mary, and they said good-bye and were away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+During the few weeks that they had been together there had been no
+cloud.  Pendragon had talked, but they had not listened to it; they had
+been perfectly, ideally happy.  They seemed to have known each other
+completely so long ago&mdash;not only their virtues but their faults and
+failures.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With her arm in his they passed through the gate and found Robin
+waiting for them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hullo! you two!  I've just heard from Macfadden.  He suggests Catis in
+Dover Street for six months and then abroad.  He thinks I ought to pass
+easily enough in a year's time&mdash;and then it will mean Germany!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His face was lighted with excitement.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Right you are!" cried Harry.  "Anything that Macfadden suggests is
+sure to be pretty right.  What do you say, Mary?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I don't know anything about men's businesses," she said, laughing.
+"Only don't be too long away, Robin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They passed down the garden, the three of them, together.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+In Norfolk a woman sat at her window and watched the snow tumbling
+softly against the panes.  The garden was a white sea&mdash;the hills loomed
+whitely beyond&mdash;the sky was grey with small white clouds, hanging like
+pillows heavily in mid-air.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The snow whirled and tossed and danced.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Clare turned slowly from the windows and drew down the blinds.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="finis">
+THE END
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H5 ALIGN="center">
+<I>Printed by</I> R. &amp; R. Clark, Limited, <I>Edinburgh</I>
+</H5>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap17"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+BOOKS BY HUGH WALPOLE
+</H3>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+<I>NOVELS</I>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+THE WOODEN HORSE<BR>
+MR. PERRIN AND MR. TRAILL<BR>
+THE GREEN MIRROR<BR>
+THE DARK FOREST<BR>
+THE SECRET CITY<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+<I>ROMANCES</I>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+MARADICK AT FORTY<BR>
+THE PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE<BR>
+FORTITUDE<BR>
+THE DUCHESS OF WREXE<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+<I>BOOKS ABOUT CHILDREN</I>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+THE GOLDEN SCARECROW<BR>
+JEREMY<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+<I>BELLES-LETTRES</I>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+JOSEPH CONRAD: A Critical Study<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wooden Horse, by Hugh Walpole
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wooden Horse, by Hugh Walpole
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Wooden Horse
+
+Author: Hugh Walpole
+
+Release Date: November 6, 2008 [EBook #27180]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOODEN HORSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Frontispiece: Hugh Walpole.  _From a photograph by Messrs. Elliott &
+Fry_]
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+WOODEN HORSE
+
+
+BY
+
+HUGH WALPOLE
+
+
+
+
+WITH A PORTRAIT
+
+
+
+
+MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
+
+ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
+
+1919
+
+
+
+
+MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
+
+  LONDON -- BOMBAY -- CALCUTTA -- MADRAS
+  MELBOURNE
+
+
+THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+
+  NEW YORK -- BOSTON -- CHICAGO
+  DALLAS -- SAN FRANCISCO
+
+
+THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
+
+  TORONTO
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT
+
+  _First Published April 1909
+  Second Impression October 1909
+  Wayfarers' Library 1914
+  New Edition 1919_
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+W. FERRIS
+
+AFFECTIONATELY
+
+
+
+
+  "_Er liebte jeden Hund, und wuenschte von jedem Hund geliebt
+  zu sein._"--FLEGELJAHRE (JEAN PAUL).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Robin Trojan was waiting for his father.
+
+Through the open window of the drawing-room came, faintly, the cries of
+the town--the sound of some distant bell, the shout of fishermen on the
+quay, the muffled beat of the mining-stamps from Porth-Vennic, a
+village that lay two miles inland.  There yet lingered in the air the
+faint afterglow of the sunset, and a few stars, twinkling faintly in
+the deep blue of the night sky, seemed reflections of the orange lights
+of the herring-boats, flashing far out to sea.
+
+The great drawing-room, lighted by a cluster of electric lamps hanging
+from the ceiling, seemed to flaunt the dim twinkle of the stars
+contemptuously; the dark blue of the walls and thick Persian carpets
+sounded a quieter note, but the general effect was of something
+distantly, coldly superior, something indeed that was scarcely
+comfortable, but that was, nevertheless, fulfilling the exact purpose
+for which it had been intended.
+
+And that purpose was, most certainly, not comfort.  Robin himself would
+have smiled contemptuously if you had pleaded for something homely,
+something suggestive of roaring fires and cosy armchairs, instead of
+the stiff-backed, beautifully carved Louis XIV. furniture that stood,
+each chair and table rigidly in its appointed place, as though bidding
+defiance to any one bold enough to attempt alterations.
+
+The golden light in the sky shone faintly in at the open window, as
+though longing to enter, but the dazzling brilliance of the room seemed
+to fling it back into the blue dome of sea and sky outside.
+
+Robin was standing by a large looking-glass in the corner of the room
+trying to improve the shape of his tie; and it was characteristic of
+him that, although he had not seen his father for eighteen years, he
+was thinking a great deal more about his tie than about the approaching
+meeting.
+
+He was, at this time, twenty years of age.  Tall and dark, he had all
+the Trojan characteristics; small, delicately shaped ears; a mouth that
+gave signs of all the Trojan obstinacy, called by the Trojans
+themselves family pride; a high, well-shaped forehead with hair closely
+cut and of a dark brown.  He was considered by most people
+handsome--but to some his eyes, of the real Trojan blue, were too cold
+and impassive.  He gave you the impression of some one who watched,
+rather disdainfully, the ill-considered and impulsive actions of his
+fellow-men.
+
+He was, however, exactly suited to his surroundings.  He maintained the
+same position as the room with regard to the world in general--"We are
+Trojans; we are very old and very expensive and very, very good, and it
+behoves you to recognise this fact and give way with fitting deference."
+
+He had not seen his father for eighteen years, and, as he had been
+separated from him at the unimpressionable age of two, he may be said
+never to have seen him at all.  He had no recollection of him, and the
+picture that he had painted was constructed out of monthly rather
+uninteresting letters concerned, for the most part, with the care and
+maintenance of New Zealand sheep, and such meagre details as his Aunt
+Clare and Uncle Garrett had bestowed on him from time to time.  From
+the latter he gathered that his father had been, in his youth, in some
+vague way, unsatisfactory, and had departed to Australia to seek his
+fortune, with a clear understanding from his father that he was not to
+return thence until he had found it.
+
+Robin himself had been born in New Zealand, but his mother dying when
+he was two years old, he had been sent home to be brought up, in the
+proper Trojan manner, by his aunt and uncle.
+
+On these things Robin reflected as he tried to twist his tie into a
+fitting Trojan shape; but it refused to behave as a well-educated tie
+should, and the obvious thing was to get another.  Robin looked at his
+watch.  It was really extremely provoking; the carriage had been timed
+to arrive at half-past six exactly; it was now a quarter to seven and
+no one had appeared.  There was probably not time to search for another
+tie.  His father would be certain to arrive at the very moment when one
+tie was on and the other not yet on, which meant that Robin would be
+late; and if there was one thing that a Trojan hated more than another
+it was being late.  With many people unpunctuality was a fault, with a
+Trojan it was a crime; it was what was known as an "odds and ends"--one
+of those things, like untidiness, eating your fish with a steel knife
+and wearing a white tie with a short dinner-jacket, that marked a man,
+once and for all, as some one outside the pale, an impossible person.
+
+Therefore Robin allowed his tie to remain and walked to the open window.
+
+"At any rate," he said to himself, still thinking of his tie, "father
+won't probably notice it."  He wondered how much his father _would_
+notice.  "As he's a Trojan," he thought, "he'll know the sort of things
+that a fellow ought to do, even though he has been out in New Zealand
+all his life."
+
+It would, Robin reflected, be a very pretty little scene.  He liked
+scenes, and, if this one were properly manoeuvred, he ought to be its
+very interesting and satisfactory centre.  That was why it was really a
+pity about the tie.
+
+The door from the library swung slowly open, and Sir Jeremy Trojan,
+Robin's grandfather, was wheeled into the room.
+
+He was very old indeed, and the only part of his face that seemed alive
+were his eyes; they were continually darting from one end of the room
+to the other, they were never still; but, for the rest, he scarcely
+moved.  His skin was dried and brown like a mummy's, and even when he
+spoke, his lips hardly stirred.  He was in evening dress, his legs
+wrapped tightly in rugs; his chair was wheeled by a servant who was
+evidently perfectly trained in all the Trojan ways of propriety and
+decorum.
+
+"Well, grandfather," said Robin, turning back from the window with the
+look of annoyance still on his face, "how are you to-night?"  Robin
+always shouted at his grandfather although he knew perfectly well that
+he was not deaf, but could, on the other hand, hear wonderfully well
+for his age.  Nothing annoyed his grandfather so much as being shouted
+at, and of this Robin was continually reminded.
+
+"Tut, tut, boy," said Sir Jeremy testily, "one would think that I was
+deaf.  Better?  Yes, of course.  Close the windows!"
+
+"I'll ring for Marchant," said Robin, moving to the bell, "he ought to
+have done it before."  Sir Jeremy said nothing--it was impossible to
+guess at his thoughts from his face; only his eyes moved uneasily round
+the room.
+
+He was wheeled to his accustomed corner by the big open stone
+fireplace, and he lay there, motionless in his chair, without further
+remark.
+
+Marchant came in a moment later.
+
+"The windows, Marchant," said Robin, still twisting uneasily at his
+tie, "I think you had forgotten."
+
+"I am sorry, sir," Marchant answered, "but Mr. Garrett had spoken this
+morning of the room being rather close.  I had thought that perhaps----"
+
+He moved silently across the room and shut the window, barring out the
+fluttering yellow light, the sparkling silver of the stars, the orange
+of the fishing-boats, the murmured distance of the town.
+
+A few moments later Clare Trojan came in.  Although she had never been
+beautiful she had always been interesting, and indeed she was (even
+when in the company of women far more beautiful than herself) always
+one of the first to whom men looked.  This may have been partly
+accounted for by her very obvious pride, the quality that struck the
+most casual observer at once, but there was also an air of
+indifference, a look in the eyes that seemed to pique men's curiosity
+and stir their interest.  It was not for lack of opportunity that she
+was still unmarried, but she had never discovered the man who had
+virtue and merit sufficient to cover the obvious disadvantages of his
+not having been born a Trojan.  Middle age suited the air of almost
+regal dignity with which she moved, and people who had known her for
+many years said that she had never looked so well as now.  To-night, in
+a closely-fitting dress of black silk relieved by a string of pearls
+round her neck, and a superb white rose at her breast, she was almost
+handsome.  Robin watched her with satisfaction as she moved towards him.
+
+"Ah, it's cold," she said.  "I know Marchant left those windows open
+till the last moment.  Robin, your tie is shocking.  It looks as if it
+were made-up."
+
+"I know," said Robin, still struggling with it; "but there isn't time
+to get another.  Father will be here at any moment.  It's late as it
+is.  Yes, I told Marchant to shut the windows, he said something about
+Uncle Garrett's saying it was stuffy or something."
+
+"Harry's late."  Clare moved across to her father and bent down and
+kissed him.
+
+"How are you to-night, father?" but she was arranging the rose at her
+breast and was obviously thinking more of its position than of the
+answer to her question.
+
+"Hungry--damned hungry," said Sir Jeremy.
+
+"Oh, we'll have to wait," said Clare.  "Harry's got to dress.  Anyhow
+you've got no right to be hungry at a quarter to seven.  Nobody's ever
+hungry till half-past seven at the earliest."
+
+It was evident that she was ill at ease.  Perhaps it was the prospect
+of meeting her brother after a separation of eighteen years; perhaps it
+was anxiety as to how this reclaimed son of the house of Trojan would
+behave in the face of the world.  It was so very important that the
+house should not be in any way let down, that the dignity with which it
+had invariably conducted its affairs for the last twenty years should
+be, in no way, impaired.  Harry had been anything but dignified in his
+early days, and sheep-farming in New Zealand--well, of course, one knew
+what kind of life that was.
+
+But, as she looked across at Robin, it was easy to see that her anxiety
+was, in some way, connected with him.  How was this invasion to affect
+her nephew?  For eighteen years she had been the only father and mother
+that he had known, for eighteen years she had educated him in all the
+Trojan laws and traditions, the things that a Trojan must speak and do
+and think, and he had faithfully responded to her instruction.  He was
+in every way everything that a Trojan should be; but there had been
+moments, rare indeed and swiftly passing, when Clare had fancied that
+there were other impulses, other ideas at work.  She was afraid of
+those impulses, and she was afraid of what Henry Trojan might do with
+regard to them.
+
+It was, indeed, hard, after reigning absolutely for eighteen years, to
+yield her place to another, but perhaps, after all, Robin would be true
+to his early training and she would not be altogether supplanted.
+
+"Randal comes to-morrow," said Robin suddenly, after a few minutes'
+silence.  "Unfortunately he can only stop for a few days.  His paper on
+'Pater' has been taken by the _National_.  He's very much pleased, of
+course."
+
+Robin spoke coldly and without any enthusiasm.  It was not considered
+quite good form to be enthusiastic; it was apt to lead you into rather
+uncertain company with such people as Socialists and the Salvation Army.
+
+"I'm glad he's coming--quite a nice fellow," said Clare, looking at the
+gold clock on the mantelpiece.  "The train is shockingly late.  On
+'Pater' you said!  I must try and get the _National_--Miss Ponsonby
+takes it, I think.  It's unusual for Garrett to be unpunctual."
+
+He entered at the same moment--a tall, thin man of forty years of age,
+clean shaven and rather bald, with a very slight squint in the right
+eye.  He walked slowly, and always gave the impression that he saw
+nothing of his surroundings.  For the rest, he was said to be extremely
+cynical and had more than a fair share of the Trojan pride.
+
+"The train is late," he said, addressing no one in particular.
+"Father, how are you this evening?"
+
+This third attack on Sir Jeremy was repelled by a snort, which Garrett
+accepted as an answer.  "Robin, your tie is atrocious," he continued,
+picking up the _Times_ and opening it slowly; "you had better change
+it."
+
+Robin was prevented from answering by the sound of carriage-wheels on
+the drive.  Clare rose and stood by the fireplace near Sir Jeremy;
+Garrett read to the end of the paragraph and folded the paper on his
+knee; Robin fingered his watch-chain nervously and moved to his aunt's
+side--only Sir Jeremy remained motionless and gave no sign that he had
+heard.
+
+Perhaps he was thinking of that day twenty years before when, after a
+very heated interview, he had forbidden his son to see his face again
+until he had done something that definitely justified his existence.
+Harry had certainly done several things since then that justified his
+existence; he had, for one thing, made a fortune, and that was not so
+easily done nowadays.  Harry was five-and-forty now; he must be very
+much changed; he had steadied down, of course ...  he would be well
+able to take his place as head of the family when Sir Jeremy himself....
+
+But he gave no sign.  You could not tell that he had heard the
+carriage-wheels at all; he lay motionless in his chair with his eyes
+half closed.
+
+There were voices in the hall.  Beldam's superlatively courteous tones
+as of one who is ready to die to serve you, and then another
+voice--rather loud and sharp, but pleasant, with the sound of a laugh
+in it.
+
+"They are in the blue drawing-room, sir--Mr. Henry," Beldam's voice was
+heard on the stairs, and, in a moment, Beldam himself appeared--"Mr.
+Henry, Sir Jeremy."  Then he stood aside, and Henry Trojan entered the
+room.
+
+Clare made a step forward.
+
+"Harry--old boy--at last------"
+
+Both her hands were outstretched, but he disregarded them, and,
+stepping forward, crushed her in his arms, crushed her dress, crushed
+the beautiful rose at her breast, and, bending down, kissed her again
+and again.
+
+"Clare--after twenty years!"
+
+He let her go and she stepped back, still smiling, but she touched the
+rose for a moment and her hair.  He was very strong.
+
+And then there was a little pause.  Harry Trojan turned and faced his
+father.  The old man made no movement and gave no sign, but he said,
+his lips stirring very slightly, "I am glad to see you here again,
+Harry."
+
+The man flushed, and with a little stammer answered, "I am gladder to
+be back than you can know, father."
+
+Sir Jeremy's wrinkled hand appeared from behind the rugs, and the two
+men shook in silence.
+
+Then Garrett came forward.  "You're not much changed, Harry," he said
+with a laugh, "in spite of the twenty years."
+
+"Why, Garrie!"  His brother stepped towards him and laid a hand on his
+shoulder.  "It's splendid to see you again.  I'd almost forgotten what
+you were like--I only had that old photo, you know--of us both at
+Rugby."
+
+Robin had stood aside, in a corner by the fireplace, watching his
+father.  It was very much as he had expected, only he couldn't, try as
+he might, think of him as his father at all.  The man there who had
+kissed Aunt Clare and shaken hands with Sir Jeremy was, in some
+unexplained way, a little odd and out of place.  He was big and strong;
+his hair curled a little and was dark brown, like Robin's, and his eyes
+were blue, but, in other respects, there was very little of the Trojan
+about him.  His mouth was large, and he had a brown, slightly curling
+moustache.  Indeed the general impression was brown in spite of the
+blue, badly fitting suit.  He was deeply tanned by the sun and was
+slightly freckled.
+
+He would have looked splendid in New Zealand or Klondyke, or, indeed,
+anywhere where you worked with your coat off and your shirt open at the
+neck; but here, in that drawing-room, it was a pity, Robin thought,
+that his father had not stopped for two or three days in town and gone
+to a West End tailor.
+
+But, after all, it was a very nice little scene.  It really had been
+quite moving to see him kiss Clare like that, but, at the same time,
+for his part, kissing...!
+
+"And Robin?" said Harry.
+
+"Here's the son and heir," said Garrett, laughing, and pushing Robin
+forward.
+
+Now that the moment had really come, Robin was most unpleasantly
+embarrassed.  How foolish of Uncle Garrett to try and be funny at a
+time like that, and what a pity it was that his tie was sticking out at
+one end so much farther than at the other.  He felt his hand seized and
+crushed in the grip of a giant; he murmured something about his being
+pleased, and then, suddenly, his father bent down and kissed him on the
+forehead.
+
+They were both blushing, Robin furiously.  How he hated sentiment!  He
+felt sure that Uncle Garrett was laughing at him.
+
+"By Jove, you're splendid!" said Harry, holding him back with both his
+hands on his shoulders.  "Pretty different from the nipper that I sent
+over to England eighteen years ago.  Oh, you'll do, Robin."
+
+"And now, Harry," said Clare, laughing, "you'll go and dress, won't
+you?  Father's terribly hungry and the train was late."
+
+"Right," said Harry; "I won't be long.  It's good to be back again."
+
+When the door had closed behind him, there was silence.  He gave the
+impression of some one filled with overwhelming, rapturous joy.  There
+was a light in his eyes that told of dreams at length fulfilled, and
+hopes, long and wearily postponed, at last realised.  He had filled
+that stiff, solemn room with a spirit of life and strength and sheer
+animal good health--it was even, as Clare afterwards privately
+confessed, a little exhausting.
+
+Now she stood by the fireplace, smiling a little.  "My poor rose," she
+said, looking at some of the petals that had fallen to the ground.
+"Harry is strong!"
+
+"He is looking well," said Garrett.  It sounded almost sarcastic.
+
+Robin went up to his room to change his tie--he had said nothing about
+his father.
+
+As Harry Trojan passed down the well-remembered passages where the
+pictures hung in the same odd familiar places, past staircases
+vanishing into dark abysses that had frightened him as a child, windows
+deep-set in the thick stone walls, corners round which he had crept in
+the dark on his way to his room, it seemed to him that those long,
+dreary years of patient waiting in New Zealand were as nothing, and
+that it was only yesterday that he had passed down that same way, his
+heart full of rage against his father, his one longing to get out and
+away to other countries where he should be his own master and win his
+own freedom.  And now that he was back again, now that he had seen what
+that freedom meant, now that he had tasted that same will-o'-the-wisp
+liberty, how thankful he was to rest here quietly, peacefully, for the
+remainder of his days; at last he knew what were the things that were
+alone, in this world, worth striving for--not money, ambition, success,
+but love for one's own little bit of country that one called home, the
+patient resting in the heritage of all those accumulating traditions
+that ancestors had been making, slowly, gradually, for centuries of
+years.
+
+He had hoped that he would have the same old rooms at the top of the
+West Towers that he had had when a boy; he remembered the view of the
+sea from their windows--the great sweep of the Cornish coast far out to
+Land's End itself, and the gulls whirring with hoarse cries over his
+head as he leant out to view the little cove nestling at the foot of
+the Hall.  That view, then, had meant to him distant wonderful lands in
+which he was to make his name and his fortune: now it spoke of home and
+peace, and, beyond all, of Cornwall.
+
+They had put him in one of the big spare rooms that faced inland.  As
+he entered the sense of its luxury filled him with a delicious feeling
+of comfort: the log-fire burning in the open brown-tiled fireplace, the
+softness of the carpets, the electric light, shaded to a soft glow--ah!
+these were the things for which he had waited, and they had, indeed,
+been worth waiting for.
+
+His man was laying his dress-clothes on his bed.
+
+"What is your name?" he said, feeling almost a little shy; it was so
+long since he had had things done for him.
+
+"James Treduggan, sir," the man answered, smiling.  "You won't remember
+me, sir, I expect.  I was quite a youngster when you went away.  But
+I've been in service here ever since I was ten."
+
+When Harry was left alone, he stood by the fire, thinking.  He had been
+preparing for this moment for so long that now that it was actually
+here he was frightened, nervous.  He had so often imagined that first
+arrival in England, the first glimpse of London; then the first meeting
+and the first evening at home.  Of course, all his thoughts had centred
+on Robin--everything else had been secondary, but he had, in some
+unaccountable way, never been able to realise exactly what Robin would
+be.  He had had photographs, but they had been unsatisfactory and had
+told him nothing; and now that he had seen him, he was at rest; he was
+all that he had hoped--straight, strong, manly, with that clear steady
+look in the eyes that meant so much; yes, there was no doubt about his
+son.  He remembered Robin's mother with affectionate tenderness; she
+had been the daughter of a doctor in Auckland--he had fallen in love
+with her at once and married her, although his prospects had been so
+bad.  They had been very happy, and then, when Robin was two years old,
+she had died; the boy had been sent home, and he had been alone
+again--for eighteen years he had been alone.  There had been other
+women, of course; he did not pretend to have been a saint, and women
+had liked him and been rather sorry for him in those early years; but
+they had none of them been very much to him, only episodes--the central
+fact of his existence had always been his son.  He had had a friend
+there, a Colonel Durand, who had three sons of his own, and had given
+him much advice as to his treatment of Robin.  He had talked a great
+deal about the young generation, about its impatience of older theories
+and manners, its dislike of authority and restraint; and Harry,
+remembering his own early hatred of restriction and longing for
+freedom, was determined that he would be no fetter on his son's
+liberty, that he would be to him a friend, a companion rather than a
+father.  After all, he felt no more than twenty-five--there was really
+no space of years between them--he was as young to-day as he had been
+twenty years ago.
+
+As to the others, he had never cared very much for Clare and Garrett in
+the old days; they had been stiff, cold, lacking all sense of family
+affection.  But that had been twenty years ago.  There had been a time,
+in New Zealand, when he had hated Garrett.  When he had been away from
+home for some ten years, the longing to see his boy had grown too
+strong to be resisted, and he had written to his father asking for
+permission to return.  He had received a cold answer from Garrett,
+saying that Sir Jeremy thought that, as he was so successful there, it
+would be perhaps better if he remained there a little while longer;
+that he would find little to do at home and would only weary of the
+monotony--four closely written pages to the same effect.  So Harry had
+remained.
+
+But that was ten years ago.  At last, a letter had come, saying that
+Sir Jeremy was now very old and feeble, that he desired to see his son
+before he died, and that all the past was forgotten and forgiven.  And
+now there was but one thought in his heart--love for all the world, one
+overwhelming desire to take his place amongst them decently, worthily,
+so that they might see that the wastrel of twenty years ago had
+developed into a man, able to take his place, in due time, at the head
+of the Trojan family.  Oh! how he would try to please them all! how he
+would watch and study and work so that that long twenty years' exile
+might be forgotten both by himself and by them.
+
+He bathed and dressed slowly by the fire.  As he saw his clothes on the
+bed he fancied, for a moment, that they might be a little worn, a
+little old.  They had seemed very good and smart in Auckland, but in
+England it was rather different.  He almost wished that he had stayed
+in London for two days and been properly fitted by a tailor.  But then
+he had been so eager to arrive, he had not thought of clothes; his one
+idea had been to rush down as soon as possible and see them all, and
+the place, and the town.
+
+Then he remembered that Clare had asked him to be quick.  He finished
+his dressing hurriedly, turned out the electric light, and left the
+room.
+
+He was pleased to find that he had not forgotten the turns and twists
+of the house.  He threaded the dark passages easily, humming a little
+tune, and smelling that same sweet scent of dried rose leaves that he
+had known so well when he was a small boy.  He could see, in
+imagination, the great white-and-pink china pot-pourri bowls standing
+at the corner of the stairs--nothing was changed.
+
+The blue drawing-room was deserted when he entered it--only the blaze
+of the electric light, the golden flame of the log-fire in the great
+open fireplace, and the solemn ticking of the gold clock that had stood
+there, in the same place of honour, for the last hundred years.  He
+passed over to the windows and flung them open; the hum of the town
+came, with the cold night air, into the room.  The stars were brilliant
+to-night and the golden haze of the lamplight hung over the streets
+like a magic curtain.  Ah! how good it was!  The peace of it, the
+comfort, the homeliness!
+
+Above all, it was Cornwall--the lights of the herring fleet, the
+distant rhythmical beat of the mining-stamps, that peculiar scent as of
+precious spices coming with the wind of the sea, as though borne from
+distant magical lands, all told him that he was, at last, again in
+Cornwall.
+
+He drank in the night air, bending his eyes on the town as though he
+were saluting it again, tenderly, joyously, with the greeting of an old
+familiar friend.
+
+Robin closed the door behind him and shivered a little.  The windows
+were open--how annoying when Aunt Clare had especially asked that they
+should be closed.  Oh! it was his father!  Of course, he did not know!
+
+He had not been noticed, so he coughed.  Harry turned round.
+
+"Hullo, Robin, my boy!"  He passed his arm through his son's and drew
+him to the window.  "Isn't it splendid?" he said.  "Oh!  I don't
+suppose you see it now, after having been here all this time; you want
+to go away for twenty years, then you'd know how much it's worth.  Oh!
+it's splendid--what times we'll have here, you and I!"
+
+"Yes," said Robin, a little coldly.  It was very chilly with the window
+open, and there was something in all that enthusiasm that was almost a
+little vulgar.  Of course, it was natural, after being away so long ...
+but still....  Also his father's clothes were really very old--the back
+of the coat was quite shiny.
+
+Sir Jeremy entered in his chair, followed by Clare and Garrett.
+
+Clare gave a little scream.
+
+"Oh!  How cold!" she cried.  "Now whoever----!"
+
+"I'm afraid I was guilty," said Harry, laughing.  "The town looked so
+splendid and I hadn't seen it for so long.  I----"
+
+"Of course, I forgot," said Clare.  "I don't suppose you notice open
+windows in New Zealand, because you're always outside in the Bush or
+something.  But here we're as shivery as you make them.  Dinner's
+getting shivery too.  The sooner we go down the better."
+
+She passed back through the door and down the hall.  There was no doubt
+that she was a magnificent woman.
+
+As Sir Jeremy was wheeled through the doors he gripped Harry's hand.
+"I'm damned glad that you're back," he whispered.
+
+Robin, who was the last to leave the room, closed the windows and
+turned out the lights.  The room was in darkness save for the golden
+light of the leaping fire.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+It had been called the "House of the Flutes" since the beginning of
+time.  People had said that the name was absurd, and Harry's
+grandfather, a prosaic gentleman of rather violent radical opinions,
+had made a definite attempt at a change--but he had failed.  Trojans
+had appeared from every part of the country, angry Trojans, tearful
+Trojans, indignant Trojans, important Trojans, poor-relation Trojans,
+and had, one and all, demanded that the name should remain, and that
+the headquarters of the Trojan tradition, of the Trojan power, should
+continue to be the "House of the Flutes."
+
+Of course, it had its origin in tradition.  In the early days when
+might was right, and the stronger seized the worldly goods of the
+weaker and nobody said him nay, there had been a Sir Jeremy Trojan
+whose wife had been the talk of the country-side both because of her
+beauty and also because of her easy morals.  Sir Jeremy having departed
+on a journey, the lovely Lady Clare entertained a neighbouring baron at
+her husband's bed and board, and for two days all was well.  But Sir
+Jeremy unexpectedly returned, and, being a gentleman of a pleasant
+fancy, walled up the room in which he had found the erring couple and
+left them inside.  He then sat outside, and listened with a gentle
+pleasure to their cries, and, being a musician of no mean quality,
+played on the flute from time to time to prevent the hours from being
+wearisome.  For three days he sat there, until there came no more
+sounds from that room; then he pursued his ordinary affairs, but sought
+no other wife--a grim little man with a certain sense of humour.
+
+There are many other legends connected with the house; you will find
+them in Baedeker, where it also says: "Kind permission is accorded by
+Sir Henry Trojan to visitors who desire to see the rooms during the
+residence of the family in London.  Special attention should be paid to
+the gold Drawing-room with its magnificent carving, the Library with
+its fine collection of old prints, and the Long Gallery with the family
+portraits, noticing especially the Vandyke of Sir Hilary Trojan
+(_temp._ Ch. I.), and a little sketch by Turner of the view from the
+West Tower.  The gardens, too, are well worth a short inspection,
+special mention being made of the Long Terrace with its magnificent
+sea-view.
+
+"A small charge is made by Sir Henry for admittance (adults sixpence,
+children half-price), with a view to benefiting the church, a building
+recently restored and sadly in need of funds."
+
+So far Baedeker (Cornwall, new ed., 1908).  The house is astonishingly
+beautiful, seen from any point of view.  Added to from time to time, it
+has that air of surprise, as of a building containing endless secrets,
+only some of which it intends to reveal.  It is full of corners and
+angles, and at the same time preserves a symmetry and grandeur of style
+that is surprising, if one considers its haphazard construction and
+random additions.
+
+Part of its beauty is undoubtedly owing to its superb position.  It
+rises from the rock, over the grey town at its feet, like a protecting
+deity, its two towers to west and east, raised like giant hands, its
+grey walls rising sheer from the steep, shelving rock; behind it the
+gentle rise of hills, bending towards the inland valleys; in front of
+it an unbroken stretch of sea.
+
+It strikes the exact note that is in harmony with its colour and
+surroundings: the emblem of some wild survival from dark ages when that
+spot had been one of the most uncivilised in the whole of Britain--a
+land of wild, uncouth people, living in a state of perpetual watch and
+guard, fearing the sea, fearing the land, cringingly superstitious
+because of their crying need of supernatural defence; and, indeed,
+there is nothing more curious in the Cornwall of to-day than this
+perpetual reminder of past superstitions, dead gods, strange pathetic
+survival of heathen ancestry.
+
+The town of Pendragon, lying at the foot of the "House of the Flutes,"
+had little of this survival of former custom about it; it was rapidly
+developing into that temple of British middle-class mediocrity, a
+modern watering-place.  It had, in the months of June, July, and
+August, nigger minstrels, a cafe chantant, and a promenade, with six
+bathing-machines and two donkeys; two new hotels had sprung up within
+the last two years, a sufficient sign of its prosperity.  No, Pendragon
+was doing its best to forget its ancient superstitions, and even seemed
+to regard the "House of the Flutes" a little resentfully because of its
+reminder of a time when men scaled the rocks and stormed the walls, and
+fell back dying and cursing into their ships riding at anchor in the
+little bay.
+
+Very different was Cullin's Cove, the little fishing-village that lay
+slightly to the right of the town.  Here traditions were carefully
+guarded; a strict watch was kept on the outside world, and strangers
+were none too cheerfully received.  Here, "down-along," was the old,
+the true Cornwall--a land that had changed scarcely at all since those
+early heathen days that to the rest of the world are dim, mysterious,
+mythological, but to a Cornishman are as the events of yesterday.  High
+on the moor behind the Cove stand four great rocks--wild, wind-beaten,
+grimly permanent.  It is under their guardianship that the Cove lies,
+and it is something more than a mere superstitious reverence that those
+inhabitants of "down-along" pay to those darkly mysterious figures.
+Seen in the fading light of the dying day, when Cornish mists are
+winding and twisting over the breast of the moor, these four rocks seem
+to take a living shape, to grow in size, and to whisper to those that
+care to hear old stories of the slaughter that had stained the soil at
+their feet on an earlier day.
+
+From Harry's windows the town and the sea were hidden.  Immediately
+below him lay the tennis-lawns and the rose-garden, and, gleaming in
+the distance, at the end of the Long Walk, two white statues that had
+fascinated him in his boyhood.
+
+His first waking thought on the morning after his arrival was to look
+for those statues, and when he saw them gleaming in the sun just as
+they used to do, there swept over him a feeling of youth and vigour
+such as he had never known before.  Those twenty years in New Zealand
+were, after all, to go for nothing; they were to be as though they had
+had no existence, and he was to be the young energetic man of
+twenty-five, able to enter into his son's point of view, able to share
+his life and vitality, and, at the same time, to give him the benefit
+of his riper experience.
+
+Through his open window came the faint, distant beating of the sea; a
+bird flew past him, a white flash of light; some one was singing the
+refrain of a Cornish "chanty"--the swing of the tune came up to him
+from the garden, and some of the words beat like little bells upon his
+brain, calling up endless memories of his boyhood.
+
+He looked at his watch and found that it was nine o'clock.  He had no
+idea that it was so late; he had asked to be called at seven, but he
+had slept so soundly that he had not heard his man enter with his
+shaving water; it was quite cold now, and his razors were terribly
+blunt.  He cut himself badly, a thing that he scarcely ever did.  But
+it was really unfortunate, on this first morning when he had wanted
+everything to be at its best.
+
+He came down to the breakfast-room humming.  The house seemed a palace
+of gold on this wonderful September morning; the light came in floods
+through the great windows at the head of the stairs, and shafts of
+golden light struck the walls and the china potpourri bowls and flashed
+wonderful colours out of a great Venetian vase that stood by the hall
+door.
+
+He found Garrett and Robin breakfasting alone; Clare and Sir Jeremy
+always had breakfast in their own rooms.
+
+"I'm afraid I'm awfully late," said Harry cheerfully, clapping his
+brother on the back and putting his hand for a minute on Robin's
+shoulder; "things all cold?"
+
+"Oh no," said Garrett, scarcely looking up from his morning paper.
+"Damned good kidneys!"
+
+Robin said nothing.  He was watching his father curiously.  It was one
+of the Trojan rules that you never talked at breakfast; it was such an
+impossible meal altogether, and one was always at one's worst at that
+time of the morning.  Robin wondered whether his father would recognise
+this elementary rule or whether he would talk, talk, talk, as he had
+done last night.  They had had rather a bad time last night; Aunt Clare
+had had a headache, but his father had talked continuously--about sheep
+and Maories and the Pink Terraces.  It had been just like a parish-room
+magic-lantern lecture--"Some hours with our friends the Maories"--it
+had been very tiring; poor Aunt Clare had grown whiter and whiter; it
+was quite a relief when dinner had come to an end.
+
+Harry helped himself to kidneys and sat down by Robin, still humming
+the refrain of the Cornish song he had heard at his window.  "By Jove,
+I'm late--mustard, Robin, my boy--can't think how I slept like that.
+Why, in New Zealand I was always up with the lark--had to be, you know,
+there was always such heaps to do--the bread, old boy, if you can get
+hold of it.  I remember once getting up at three in the morning to go
+and play cricket somewhere--fearful hot day it was, but I knocked up
+fifty, I remember.  Probably the bowling was awfully soft, although I
+remember one chap--Pulling, friend of Durand's--could fairly twist 'em
+down the pitch--made you damned well jump.  Talking of cricket, I
+suppose you play, Robin?  Did you get your cap or whatever they call
+it--College colours, you know?"
+
+"Oh, cricket!" said Robin indifferently.  "No, I didn't play.  The
+chaps at King's who ran the games were rather outers--pretty thoroughly
+barred by the decent men.  None of the 'Gracchi' went in for the
+sports."
+
+"Oh!" said Harry, considerably surprised.  "And who the deuce are the
+'Gracchi'?"
+
+"A society I was on," said Robin, a little wearily--it was so annoying
+to be forced to talk at breakfast.  "A literary society--essays, with
+especial attention paid to the New Literature.  We made it our boast
+that we never went back further than Meredith, except, of course, when
+one had to, for origins and comparisons.  Randal, who's coming to stop
+for a few days, was president last year and read some awfully good
+papers."
+
+Harry stared blankly.  He had thought that every one played cricket and
+football, especially when they were strong and healthy like Robin.  He
+had not quite understood about the society--and who was Meredith?  "I
+shall be glad to meet your friend," he said.  "Is he still at
+Cambridge?"
+
+"Oh, Randal!" said Robin.  "No, he came down the same time as I did.
+He only got a second in History, although he was worth a first any day
+of the week.  But he had such lots of other things to do--his papers
+for the 'Gracchi' took up any amount of time--and then history rather
+bored him.  He's very popular here, especially with all Fallacy Street
+people."
+
+"The Fallacy Street people!" repeated Harry, still more bewildered.
+"Who are they?"
+
+"Oh!  I suppose you've forgotten," said Robin, mildly surprised.
+"They're all the people who're intellectual in Pendragon.  If you live
+in Fallacy Street you're one of the wits.  It's like belonging to the
+'Mermaid' used to be, you know, in Shakespeare's time.  They're really
+awfully clever--some of them--the Miss Ponsonbys and Mrs. le
+Terry--Aunt Clare thinks no end of Mrs. le Terry."
+
+Robin's voice sounded a little awed.  He had a great respect for
+Fallacy Street.  "Oh, they won't have any room for me," said Harry,
+laughing.  "I'm an awfully stupid old duffer.  I haven't read anything
+at all, except a bit of Kipling--'Barrack-room Ballads'--seems a waste
+of time to read somehow."
+
+That his father had very little interest in literature Robin had
+discovered some time before, but that he should boast of it--openly,
+laughingly--was really rather terrible.
+
+Harry was silent for a few minutes; he had evidently made a blunder in
+his choice of a subject, but it was really difficult.
+
+"Where are we going this morning, Robin?" he said at last.
+
+"Oh!  I say!" Robin looked a little unhappy.  "I'm awfully sorry,
+father.  I'm really afraid I can't come out this morning.  There's a
+box of books that have positively got to get off to Randal's place
+to-night.  I daren't keep them any longer.  I'd do it this afternoon,
+only it's Aunt Clare's at-home day and she always likes me to help her.
+I'm really awfully sorry, but there are lots of other mornings, aren't
+there?  I simply must get those books off this morning."
+
+"Why, of course," said Harry cheerfully; "there's plenty of time."
+
+He was dreadfully disappointed.  He had often thought of that first
+stroll with Robin.  They would discuss the changes since Harry's day;
+Robin would point out the new points of interest, and, perhaps,
+introduce him to some of his friends--it had been a favourite picture
+of his during some of those lonely days in New Zealand.  And now
+Robin's aunt and college friend were to come before his father--it was
+rather hard.
+
+But, then, on second thoughts, how unreasonable it was of him to expect
+to take up Robin's time like that.  He must fall into the ways of the
+house, quietly, unobtrusively, with none of that jolting of other
+people's habits and regular customs; it had been thoughtless, of him
+and ridiculous.  He must be more careful.
+
+Breakfast ended, he found himself alone.  Robin left the room with the
+preoccupied air of a man of fifty; the difficulty of choosing between
+Jefferies' "Story of my Heart" and Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass," if
+there wasn't room in the box for both, was terrible!  Of course Randal
+was coming himself in a few days, and it would have been simpler to let
+him choose for himself; but he had particularly asked for them to be
+sent by the fourth, and to-day was the third.  Robin had quite
+forgotten his father.
+
+Harry was alone.  From the garden came the sound of doves, and, through
+the window that overlooked the lawn, the sun shone into the room.
+Harry lit a cigarette and went out.  The garden was changed; there was
+a feeling of order and authority about it that it had never had before.
+Not a weed was to be seen on the paths: flowers stretched in perfect
+order and discipline; colours in harmony, shapes and patterns of a
+tutored symmetry--it was the perfection of a modern gardener's art.  He
+passed gardeners, grave, serious men with eyes intent on their work,
+and he remembered the strange old man who had watched over the garden
+when he had been a boy; an old man with a wild ragged beard and a
+skinny hand like the Ancient Mariner's.  The garden had not prospered
+under his care--it had been wild, undisciplined, tangled; but he had
+been a teller of wonderful tales, a seer of visions--it was to him that
+Harry had owed all the intimate knowledge of Cornish lore and mystery
+that he possessed.
+
+The gardeners that were there now were probably not Cornishmen at
+all--strangers, Londoners perhaps.  They could watch that wonderful,
+ever-changing view of sea and cliff and moor without any beating of the
+heart; to them the crooked, dusky windings of the Cove, the mighty grey
+rocks of Trelennan's Jump, the strange, solemn permanency of the four
+grey stones on the moor, were as nothing; their hearts were probably in
+Peckham.
+
+He turned a little sadly from the ordered discipline of the garden; the
+shining green of the lawns, the blazing red and gold of its flowers
+almost annoyed him--it was not what he had expected.  Then, suddenly,
+he came upon a little tangled wood--a strange, deserted place, with
+tall grasses and wild ferns and a little brook bubbling noisily over
+shining white and grey pebbles.  He remembered it; how well he
+remembered it.  He had often been there in those early days.  He had
+tried to make a little mill in the brook.  He had searched there for
+some of those strange creatures about whom Tony Tregoth, the old
+gardener, had told him--fauns and nymphs and the wild god Pan.  He had
+never found anything; but its wild, disordered beauty had made a
+fitting setting for Tony's wild, disordered legends.
+
+It was still almost exactly as it had been twenty years before; no one
+had attempted improvement.  He stayed there for some time, thinking,
+regretting, dreaming--it was the only part of the garden that was real
+to him.
+
+He passed down the avenue and out through the white stone gates as one
+in a dream.  Something was stirring within him.  It was not that during
+those years in New Zealand he had forgotten.  He had longed again and
+again with a passionate, burning longing for the grey cliffs and the
+sea and the haunting loneliness of the moor; for the Cornwall that he
+had loved from the moment of his birth--no, he had never forgotten.
+But there was waking in him again that strange, half-inherited sense of
+the eternal presence of ancient days and old heathen ceremonies, and
+the manners of men who had lived in that place a thousand years before.
+He had known it when he was a boy; when he had chased rabbits over the
+moor, when he had seen the mist curling mysteriously from the sea and
+wrapping land and sky in a blinding curtain of grey, when he had stood
+on Trelennan's Jump and watched the white, savage tossing of the foam
+hundreds of feet below; he had sometimes fancied that he saw them,
+those wild bearded priests of cruelty, waiting smilingly on the silent
+twilit moor for victims--they had always been cruel; something terrible
+in the very vagueness of their outline.
+
+Now the old thoughts came back to him, and he almost fancied that he
+could see the strange faces in the shadows of the garden and feel their
+hot breath upon his cheek.
+
+His passage through the streets of Pendragon woke him from his dreams;
+its almost startling modernity and obtrusive up-to-dateness laughed at
+his fancies.  It was very much changed since he had been there
+before--like the garden, it was the very apotheosis of order and modern
+methods.  "The Pendragon Hotel" astonished him by its stone pillars,
+its glimpse of a wonderful, cool, softly carpeted hall, its official in
+gold buttons who stood solemnly magnificent on the steps, the
+admiration of several small boys who looked up into his face with
+wide-open eyes.
+
+Harry remembered the old "Pendragon Hotel," a dirty, unmethodical
+place, with beds that were never clean.  It had been something of a
+scandal, but its landlord had been an amusing fellow and a capital
+teller of stories.
+
+The shops dazzled him by their brilliance.  The hairdresser's displayed
+a wonderful assortment of wigs in the window; coloured bottles of every
+size and hue glittered in the chemist's; diamonds flashed in the
+jeweller's--the street seemed glorious to his colonial eyes.
+
+The streets were not very crowded, and no one seemed to be in a hurry.
+Auckland had been rather a busy little town--no one had had very much
+time to spare--but here, under the mellow September sun, people
+lingered and talked, and the time and place seemed to stand still with
+the pleasant air of something restfully comfortable, and, above all,
+containing nothing that wasn't in the very best taste.  It was this air
+of polite gentility that struck Harry so strongly.  It had never been
+like that in the old days; a ragged unkempt place of uncertain manners
+and a very evident poverty.  He rather resented its new polish, and he
+regretted once more that he had not sought a London tailor before
+coming down to Cornwall.
+
+He suddenly recognised a face--a middle-aged, stout gentleman, with a
+white waistcoat and the air of one who had managed to lead a virtuous
+life and, nevertheless, accumulate money; he was evidently satisfied
+with both achievements.  It was Barbour, Bunny Barbour.  He had been
+rather a good chap at school, with some taste for adventure.  He had
+had a wider horizon than most of them; Harry remembered how Bunny had
+envied him in New Zealand.  He looked prosperous and sedate now, and
+the world must have treated him well.  Harry spoke to him and was
+received with effusion.  "Trojan, old man!  Well, I never!  I'm damned
+if I'd have recognised you.  How you've changed!  I heard you were
+coming back; your boy told me--fine chap that, Trojan, you've every
+reason to be proud.  Well, to be sure!  Come in and have a whisky and
+see the new club-rooms!  Just been done up, and fairly knocks spots out
+of the old place."
+
+He was extremely cordial, but Harry felt that he was under criticism.
+Barbour's eyes looked him up and down; there was almost a challenge in
+his glance, as though he said, "We are quite ready to receive you if
+you are one of us.  But you must move with the times.  It's no good for
+you to be the same as in the old days.  We've all changed, and so must
+you!"
+
+The club was magnificent.  Harry stared in amazement at its luxury and
+comfort.  Its wonderful armchairs and soft carpets, its decorations and
+splendid space astonished him.  The old place had seemed rather fine to
+him as a boy, but he saw now how bad it had really been.  He sank into
+one of the armchairs with that strange sense of angry resentment that
+he had felt before in the street gaining hotly upon him.
+
+"It's good, isn't it?" said Barbour, smiling with an almost personal
+satisfaction, as though he had been largely responsible for the present
+improvements.  "The membership's going up like anything, and we're
+thinking of raising subscriptions.  Very decent set of fellows on it,
+too.  Oh! we're getting along splendidly here.  You must have noticed
+the change in the place!"
+
+"I should think I have," said Harry--the tone of his voice was a little
+regretful; "but it's not only here--it's the whole town.  It's
+smartened up beyond all knowing.  But I must confess that, dirty and
+dingy as they were, I regret the old club-rooms.  There was something
+extraordinarily homely and comfortable about them.  Do you remember
+that old armchair with the hole in it?  Gone long ago, of course, but I
+shall never sit in anything as nice again."
+
+"Ah, sentiment," said Barbour, smiling; "you won't find much of it in
+Pendragon nowadays.  It doesn't do.  Sentimentalists are always Tories,
+you'll find; always wanting to keep the old things, and all against
+progress.  We're all for progress now.  We've got some capital men on
+the Town Council--Harding, Belfast, Rogers, Snaith--you won't remember
+them.  There's some talk of pulling down the Cove and building new
+lodging-houses there.  We're crowded out in the summer, and there are
+more people every year."
+
+"Pull down the Cove?" said Harry, aghast; "but you can't.  It's been
+there for hundreds of years; it's one of the most picturesque places in
+Cornwall."
+
+"That's the only thing," said Barbour regretfully.  "It acts rather
+well as a draw for painters and that sort of person, and it makes some
+pretty picture postcards that are certain to sell.  Oh, I suppose
+they'll keep it for a bit, but it will have to go ultimately.
+Pendragon's changing."
+
+There was no doubt that it was, and Harry left the club some quarter of
+an hour later with dismay in his heart.  He had dreamed so long of the
+old times, the old beauties, the old quiet spirit of unprogressive
+content, that this new eagerness to be up-to-date and modern, this
+obvious determination to make Pendragon a watering-place of the most
+detestable kind, horrified him.
+
+As he passed down the crooked, uneven stone steps that led to the Cove,
+he felt indignant, almost unhappy.  It was as if a friend had been
+insulted in his presence and he had been unable to defend him.  They
+said that the Cove must go, must make way for modern jerry-built
+lodging-houses, in order that middle-class families from London and
+Manchester might be sufficiently accommodated.
+
+The Cove had meant a great deal to him when a boy--mystery, romance,
+pirates and smugglers, strange Cornish legends of saints and sinners,
+knights and men-at-arms.  The little inn, "The Bended Thumb," with its
+irregular red-brick floor and its smoke-stained oaken rafters, had been
+the theatre of many a stirring drama--now it was to be pulled down.  It
+was a wonderfully beautiful morning, and the little, twisting street of
+the Cove seemed to dance with its white shining cobbles in the light of
+the sun.  It was mysterious as ever, but colours lingered in every
+corner.  Purple mists seemed to hang about the dark alleys and twisting
+ways; golden shafts of light flashed through the open cottage doorways
+into rooms where motes of dust danced, like sprites, in the sun; smoke
+rose in little wreaths of pearl-grey blue into the cloudless sky; there
+was perfect stillness in the air, and from an overflowing pail that
+stood outside "The Bended Thumb," the clear drip, drip of the water
+could be heard falling slowly into the white cobbles, and close at hand
+was the gentle lap of the sea, as it ran up the little shingly beach
+and then dragged slowly back again with a soft, reluctant hiss.
+
+It was the Cove in its gentlest mood.  No one was about; the women were
+preparing the dinner and the men were away at work.  No strange faces
+peered from inhospitable doorways; there was nothing to-day that could
+give the stranger a sense of outlawry, of almost savage avoidance of
+ordinary customs and manners.  Harry's heart beat wildly as he walked
+down the street; there was no change here; it was as he had left it.
+He was at home here as he could never be in that new, strident
+Pendragon with its utter disregard of tradition and beauty.
+
+He saw that it was late and hurried back.  He had discovered a great
+deal during the morning.
+
+At lunch he spoke of the changes that he had seen.  Clare smiled.
+"Why, of course," she said.  "Twenty years is a long time, and
+Pendragon has made great strides.  For my part, I am very glad.  It
+brings money to the shopkeepers, and the place will be quite
+fashionable in a few years' time.  We're all on the side of progress up
+here," she added, laughing.
+
+"But the Cove?" said Harry.  "Barbour tells me that they are thinking
+of pulling it down to make way for lodging-houses or something."
+
+"Well, why not?" said Clare.  "It is really very much in the way where
+it is, and is, I am told, extremely insanitary.  We must be practical
+nowadays or we are nothing; you have to pay heavily for being romantic."
+
+Harry felt again that sensation of personal affront as though some
+close friend, bound to him by many ties, had been attacked violently in
+his presence.  It was unreasonable, he knew, but it was very strong.
+
+"And you, Robin," he said, "what do you think of it?"
+
+"I agree with Aunt Clare," answered Robin lightly, as though it were a
+matter that interested him very little.  "If the place is in the way,
+it ought to go.  He's a sensible man, Barbour."
+
+"The fact is, Harry," said Garrett, "you haven't changed quite as fast
+as the place has.  You'll see the point of view in a few weeks' time."
+
+He felt unreasonably, ridiculously angry.  They were all treating him
+as a child, as some one who would grow up one day perhaps, but was, at
+present at any rate, immature in thought and word; even with Robin
+there was a half-implied superiority.
+
+"But the Cove!" he cried vehemently.  "Is it nothing to any of you?
+After all that it has been to us all our lives, to our people, to the
+whole place, are you going to root it out and destroy it simply because
+the town isn't quite big enough to put up all the trippers that burden
+it in the summer?  Don't you see what you will lose if you do?  I
+suppose you think that I am sentimental, romantic, but upon my word I
+can't see that you have improved Pendragon very much in all these
+twenty years.  It was charming once--a place with individuality,
+independence; now it is like anywhere else--a miniature Brighton."
+
+He knew that he was wasting his words.  There was a pause, and he felt
+that they were all three laughing at him--yes, Robin as well.  He had
+only made a fool of himself; they could not understand how much he had
+expected during those weary years of waiting--how much he had expected
+and how much he had missed.
+
+Clare looked round the room and was relieved to find that only Beldam
+was present.  If one of the family was bent on being absurd, it was as
+well that there should only be one of the servants to hear him.
+
+"You know that you are to be on your trial this afternoon, Harry?" she
+said.
+
+"My trial?" he repeated, bewildered.
+
+"Yes--it's my at-home day, you know--first Thursdays--and, of course,
+they'll all come to see you.  We shall have the whole town----"  She
+looked at him a little anxiously; so much depended on how he behaved,
+and she wasn't completely reassured by his present manner.
+
+If he astonished them all this afternoon by saying things about the
+Cove like that, it would be too terrible!
+
+"How horrible!" he said, laughing.  "I'm very much afraid that I shan't
+do you justice, Clare.  I'm no good at small conversation."
+
+His treating it so lightly made it worse, and she wondered how she
+could force him to realise the seriousness of it.
+
+"All the nicest people in Pendragon," she said; "and they are rather
+ridiculously critical, and of course they talk."
+
+He looked at her and laughed.  "I wish they were Maories," he said, "I
+shouldn't be nearly so frightened!"
+
+She leant over the table to emphasise her words.  "But it really does
+make a difference, Harry.  First impressions count a lot.  You'll be
+nice to them, won't you?"
+
+The laugh had left his eyes.  It was serious, as he knew.  He had had
+no idea that he would have, so to speak, "funked" it so.  It was
+partly, of course, because of Robin.  He did not want to make a fool of
+himself before the boy.  He was already beginning to realise what were
+the things that counted with Robin.
+
+The real pathos of the situation lay in his terrible anxiety to do the
+right thing.  If he had taken it quietly, had trusted to his natural
+discretion and had left circumstances to develop of themselves, he
+would have, at any rate, been less self-conscious.  But he could not
+let it alone.  He had met Auckland society often enough and had,
+indeed, during his later years, been something of a society man, but
+there everything was straight-forward and simple.  There was no
+tradition, no convention, no standard.  Because other people did a
+thing was no reason why you should do it--originality was welcomed
+rather than otherwise.  But here there were so many things that you
+must do, and so very, very many that you mustn't; and if you were a
+Trojan, matters were still more complicated.
+
+It was after half-past four when he entered the drawing-room, and Clare
+was pouring out tea.  Five or six ladies were already there, and a
+clergyman of ample proportions and quite beautifully brushed hair.  He
+was introduced--"Mrs. le Terry--Miss Ponsonby--Miss Lucy Ponsonby--Miss
+Werrel--Miss Thisbe Werrel--Mr. Carrell--our rector, Harry."
+
+He shook hands and was terribly embarrassed.  He was conscious at once
+of that same sense of challenge that he had felt with Barbour in the
+morning.  They were not obviously staring, but he knew that they were
+rapidly summing him up.  He coloured foolishly, and stood for a moment
+awkwardly in the middle of the room.
+
+"Tea, Harry?" said Clare.  "Scones down by the fire.  Everybody else is
+all right--so look after yourself."
+
+He found himself by Mrs. le Terry, a small, rather pretty woman with
+wide-open blue eyes, and a mass of dark brown hair hidden beneath a
+large black hat that drooped over one ear.  She talked rapidly and with
+few pauses.  She was, he discovered, one of those persons whose
+conversation was a series of exclamation marks.  She was perpetually
+astonished, delighted, and disappointed with an amount of emotion that
+left her no breath and gave her hearers a small opinion of her
+sincerity.  "It's too terribly funny," she said, opening her eyes very
+wide indeed, "that you should have been in that amazing place, New
+Zealand--all sheep and Maories, isn't it?--and if there's one thing
+that I should be likely to detest more than mutton I'm sure it would be
+Maories.  Too dreadful and terrible!  But you look splendidly well, Mr.
+Trojan.  I never, really never, saw any one with such a magnificent
+colour!  I suppose that it's that gorgeous sun, and it never rains,
+does it?  Too delightful!  If there's one thing that I _do_ adore, it's
+the sun!"
+
+"Well, I don't know about that," said Harry, laughing; "we had rain
+pretty often in Auckland, and----"
+
+"Oh," she said, breaking in upon him, "that's too curious, because, do
+you know, I thought you never had rain at all, and I do detest rain so.
+It's too distressing when one has a new frock or must go to some stupid
+place to see some one.  But I'm too awfully glad that you've come here,
+Mr. Trojan.  We do want waking up a little, you know, and I'm sure
+you're the very person to do it.  It would be too funny if you were to
+wake us all up, you know."
+
+Harry was pleased.  There were no difficulties here, at any rate.
+Hadn't Robin mentioned Mrs. le Terry as one of the leaders of Fallacy
+Street?  He suddenly lost his shyness and wanted to become
+confidential.  He would tell her how glad he was to be back in England
+again; how anxious he was to enter into all the fun and to take his
+part in all the work.  He wondered what she felt about the Cove, and he
+hoped that she would be an enemy to its proposed destruction.
+
+But she yielded him no opportunity of speaking, and he speedily
+discovered her opinion on the Cove.  "And such changes since you went
+away!  Quite another place, I'm glad to say.  Pendragon is the sweetest
+little town, and even the dear, dirty trippers in the summer are the
+most delightful and amusing people you ever saw.  And now that they
+talk of pulling down that horrid, dirty old Cove, it will be too
+splendid, with lodging-houses and a bandstand; and they do talk of an
+Esplanade--that would be too delightful!"
+
+While she was speaking, he watched the room curiously.  Robin had come
+in and was standing by the fireplace talking to the Miss Werrels, two
+girls of the athletic type, with short skirts and their hair brushed
+tightly back over their foreheads.  He was leaning with one arm on the
+mantelpiece, and was looking down on the ladies with an air of languid
+interest: his eyes were restless, and every now and again glanced
+towards his father.  The two Miss Ponsonbys were massive ladies of any
+age over fifty.  Clad in voluminous black silk, with several little
+reticules and iron chains, their black hair bound in tight coils at the
+back of their heads, each holding stiffly her teacup with a tenacity
+that was worthy of a better cause, they were awe-inspiring and
+militant.  In spite of their motionless gravity, there was something
+aggressive in their frowning brows and cold, expressionless eyes.
+Harry thought that he had never seen two more terrifying persons.
+Clare was talking to the prosperous clergyman; he smiled continually,
+and now and again laughed in reply to some remark, but it was always
+something restrained and carefully guarded.  He was obviously a man who
+laid great store by exterior circumstances.  That the sepulchre should
+be filled with dead men's bones might cause him pain, but that it
+should be unwhitened would be, to him, a thing far more terrible.
+
+Clare turned round and addressed the room generally.
+
+"Mr. Carrell has just been telling me of the shocking state of the
+Cove," she said.  "Insanitary isn't the word, apparently.  Things have
+gone too far, and the only wise measure seems to be to root the place
+up completely.  It is sad, of course--it was a pretty old place, but it
+has had its day."
+
+"I've just been telling your brother about it, Miss Trojan," said Mrs.
+le Terry.  "It's quite too terrible, and I'm sure it's very bad for all
+of us to have anything quite so horrible so close to our houses.
+There's no knowing what dreadful things we may not all of us be
+catching at this very moment----"
+
+She was interrupted by two new arrivals--Mrs. and Miss Bethel.  They
+were a curious contrast.  The mother was the strangest old lady that
+Harry had ever seen.  She was tiny in stature, with snow-white hair and
+cheeks that were obviously rouged; she wore a dress of curious shot
+silk decorated with much lace, and her fingers were thick with jewels;
+a large hat with great purple feathers waved above her head.  It was a
+fantastic and gaudy impression that she made, and there was something
+rather pitiful in the contrast between her own obvious satisfaction
+with her personal appearance and the bizarre, almost vulgar, effect of
+such strangely contrasted colours.  She came mincing into the room with
+her head a little on one side, but in spite of, or perhaps because of,
+her rather anxious smiles, it was obvious that she was not altogether
+at her ease.
+
+The girl who followed her was very different.  Tall and very dark, she
+was clothed quite simply in grey; her hair was wonderful, although it
+was at present hidden to some extent by her hat, but its coal-black
+darkness had something intent, almost luminous, about it, so that,
+paradoxically, its very blackness held hidden lights and colours.  But
+it was her manner that Harry especially noticed.  She followed her
+mother with a strange upright carriage of the head and flash of the
+eyes that were almost defiant.  She was evidently expecting no very
+civil reception, and she seemed to face the room with hostility and no
+very ready eagerness to please.
+
+The effect on the room was marked.  Mrs. le Terry stopped speaking for
+a moment and rustled her skirts with a movement of displeasure, the
+Miss Ponsonbys clutched their teacups even tighter than before and
+their brows became more clouded, the Miss Werrels smiled confidentially
+at each other as though they shared some secret, and even Robin made a
+slight instinctive movement of displeasure.
+
+Harry felt at once an impulse of sympathy towards the girl.  It was
+almost as if this sudden hostility had made them friends: he liked that
+independence of her carriage, the pride in her eyes.  Mrs. le Terry's
+voice broke upon his ears.
+
+"Which must be, Mr. Trojan, extraordinarily provoking.  To go there, I
+mean, and find absolutely no one in--all that way, too, and a horribly
+wet night, and no train until nine o'clock."
+
+In his endeavours to pick up the thread of the conversation he lost
+sight of their meeting with Clare.
+
+She, indeed, had greeted them with all the Trojan coldness; nothing
+could have been more sternly formal than her "Ah!  Mrs. Bethel, I'm so
+glad that you were able to come.  So good of you to trouble to call.
+Won't you have some tea?  Do find a seat somewhere, Miss Bethel.  I
+hope you won't mind our all having finished."
+
+Harry was introduced and took them their tea.  It was obvious that, for
+some reason unknown to him, their presence there was undesired by all
+the company present, including Clare herself.  He also knew
+instinctively that their coming there had been some act of daring
+bravery, undertaken perhaps with the hope that, after all, it might not
+be as they had feared.
+
+The old lady's hand trembled as she took her teacup; the colour had
+fled from her face, and she sat there white and shaking.  As Harry bent
+over her with the scones, he saw to his horror that a tear was
+trembling on her eyelid; her throat was moving convulsively.
+
+At the same instant he knew that the girl's eyes were fixed upon his;
+he saw them imploring, beseeching him to help them.  It was a difficult
+situation, but he smiled back at the girl and turned to the old lady.
+
+"Do try these scones, Mrs. Bethel," he said; "they are still hot and I
+can recommend them strongly.  I'm so glad to meet you; my sister told
+me only this morning that she hoped you would come this afternoon, as
+she wanted us to become acquainted."
+
+It was a lie, but he spoke it without hesitation, knowing that it would
+reach Clare's ears.  The little lady smiled nervously and looked up at
+him.
+
+"Ah, Mr. Trojan," she said, "it's very good of you, I'm sure.  We are
+only too delighted.  It's not much gaiety that we can offer you here,
+but such as it is----"
+
+She was actually making eyes at him, the preposterous old person.  It
+was really a little pitiful, with her gorgeous colours, and her
+trembling assumption of a coquettish youth that had left her long ago.
+Her attempt to storm a difficult position by the worst of all possible
+tactics made him extremely sorry for the daughter, who was forced to
+look on in silence.  His thoughts, indeed, were with the girl--her
+splendid hair, her eyes, something wild, almost rebellious, that found
+a kindred note in himself; curiously, almost absurdly, they were to a
+certain degree allies although they had not spoken.  He talked to her a
+little and she mentioned the Cove.
+
+"It is a test of your Cornish ancestry," she said--"if you care for it,
+I mean.  So many people here look on it as a kind of
+rubbish-heap--picturesque but untidy--and it is the most beautiful
+place in the world."
+
+"I am glad that you feel like that," he said quietly; "it meant a lot
+to me as a boy.  I have been sorry to find how unpopular it is now; but
+I see that it still has its supporters."
+
+"Ah, you must talk to father," she said.  "He is always there.  We are
+a little old-fashioned, I'm afraid."
+
+There was in her voice, in her smile, something that stirred him
+strangely.  He felt as though he had met her before--a long while ago.
+He recognised little characteristics, the way that she pushed back her
+hair when she was excited, the beautiful curve of her neck when she
+raised her eyes to his, the rise and fall of her bosom--it was all
+strangely, individually familiar, as though he had often watched her do
+the same things in the same way before, in some other place....
+
+He had forgotten the others--Clare, Robin, the Miss Ponsonbys, Mrs. le
+Terry; and when they had all gone, he did not realise that he had in
+any way neglected them.
+
+After Miss Bethel had left the room, followed by the preposterous old
+mother, he stood at the window watching the lights of the town shining
+mistily through the black network of trees in the drive.  He must meet
+her again.
+
+Clare spoke to him and he turned round.  "I'm afraid you have made the
+Miss Ponsonbys enemies for life," she said; "you never spoke to them
+once.  I warned you that they were the most important people in the
+place."
+
+"Oh! the Miss Ponsonbys!" said Harry carelessly, and Robin stood amazed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+Robin's rooms, charming as they were, with their wide windows opening
+on to tossing sea and the sharp bend of the grey cliffs stretching to
+distant horizons, suffered from overcrowding.
+
+His sitting-room, with its dark red wallpaper and several good prints
+framed in dark oak--Burne-Jones' "Study for Cupid's Masque," Hunt's
+"Hireling Shepherd," and Whistler's "Battersea Bridge" were the
+best--might have been delightful had he learned to select; but at the
+present stage in his development he hated rejecting anything as long as
+it reached a certain standard.  His appreciations were wide and
+generous, and his knowledge was just now too superficial to permit of
+discerning criticism.  The room, again, suffered from a rather
+effeminate prettiness.  There were too many essentially trivial
+knick-knacks--some fans, silver ornaments, a charming little ebony
+clock, and a generous assortment of gay, elegantly worked cushions.
+The books, too, were all in handsome editions--Meredith in green
+leather with a gold-worked monogram, Pater in red half-morocco,
+Swinburne in light-blue with red and gold tooling--rich and to some
+extent unobtrusive, but reiterating unmistakably the first impression
+that the room had given, the mark of something superficial.
+
+Robin was there now, dressing for dinner.  He often dressed in his
+sitting-room, because his books were there.  He liked to open a book
+for a moment before fitting his studs into his shirt, and how charming
+to read a verse of Swinburne before brushing his hair--not so much
+because of the Swinburne, but rather because one went down to dinner
+with a pleasant feeling of culture and education.  To-night he was in a
+hurry.  People had stayed so late for tea (it was still the day after
+his father's arrival), and he had to be at the other end of the town by
+half-past seven.  What a nuisance going out to dinner was, and how he
+wished he wasn't going to-night.
+
+The fact that the dinner promised, in all probability, to afford
+something of a situation did not, as was often the case, give him very
+much satisfaction.  Indeed it was the reverse.  The situation was going
+to be extremely unpleasant, and there was every likelihood that Robin
+would look a fool.  Robin's education had been a continuous insistence
+on the importance of superficiality.  It had been enforced while he was
+still in the cradle, when a desire to kick and fight had been always
+checked by the quiet reiteration that it was not a thing that a Trojan
+did.  Temper was not a fault of itself, but an exhibition of it was;
+simply because self-control was a Trojan virtue.  At his private school
+he was taught the great code of brushing one's hair and leaving the
+bottom button of one's waistcoat undone.  Robbery, murder, rape--well,
+they had all played their part in the Trojan history; but the art of
+shaking hands and the correct method of snubbing a poor relation, if
+properly acquired, covered the crimes of the Decalogue.
+
+It was not that Robin, either then or afterwards, was a snob.  He
+thought no more of a duke or a viscount than of a plain commoner, but
+he learnt at once the lesson of "Us--and the Others."  If you were one
+of the others--if there was a hesitation about your aspirates, if you
+wore a tail-coat and brown boots--then you were non-existent, you
+simply did not count.
+
+When he left Eton for Cambridge, this Code of the Quite Correct Thing
+advanced beyond the art of Perfect Manners; it extended to literature
+and politics, and, in fact, everything of any importance.  He soon
+discovered what were the things for "Us" to read, whom were the
+painters for "Us" to admire, and what were the politics for "Us" to
+applaud.  He read Pater and Swinburne and Meredith, Bernard Shaw and
+Galsworthy and Joseph Conrad, and had quite definite ideas about all of
+them.  He admired Rickett's stage effects, and thought Sholto Douglas's
+portraits awfully clever, and, of course, Max's Caricatures were
+masterly.  I'm not saying that he did not really admire these
+things--in many things his appreciation was genuine enough--but if it
+should happen that he cared for "The Christian" or "God's Good Man," he
+speedily smothered his admiration and wondered how he could be such a
+fool.  To do him justice, he never had any doubt that those whose
+judgment he followed were absolutely right; but he followed them
+blindly, often praising books or pictures that he had never read or
+seen because it was the thing to do.  He read quite clever papers to
+"The Gracchi" at Cambridge, but the most successful of all, "The
+Philosophy of Nine-pins according to Bernard Shaw," was written before
+he had either seen or read any of that gentleman's plays.  He was, in
+fact, in great danger of developing into a kind of walking _Rapid
+Review_ of other people's judgments and opinions.  He examined nothing
+for himself; his standard of the things to be attained in this world
+was fixed and unalterable; to have an unalterable standard at
+twenty-one is to condemn oneself to folly for life.
+
+And now, as he was dressing for dinner, two things occupied his mind:
+firstly, his father; in the second place, the situation that he was to
+face in half-an-hour's time.
+
+With regard to his father, Robin was terribly afraid that he was one of
+the Others.  He had had his suspicions from the first--that violent
+entry, the loud voice and the hearty laugh, the bad-fitting clothes,
+and the perpetual chatter at dinner; it had all been noisy, unusual,
+even a little vulgar.  But his behaviour at tea that afternoon had
+grieved Robin very much.  How could he be so rude to the light and
+leading of Fallacy Street?  It could only have been through ignorance;
+it could only have been because he really did not know how truly great
+the Miss Ponsonbys were.  But then, to spend all his time with the
+Bethels, strange, odd people, with the queerest manners and an
+uncertain history, whom Fallacy Street had decided to cut!
+
+No, Robin was very much afraid that his father must be ranked with the
+Others.  He had not expected very much after all; New Zealand must be a
+strange place on all accounts; but his father seemed to show no desire
+to improve, he seemed quite happy and contented, and scarcely realised,
+apparently, the seriousness of his mistakes.
+
+But, after all, the question of his father was a very minor affair as
+compared with the real problem that he must answer that evening.  Robin
+had met Dahlia Feverel in the summer of the preceding year at
+Cambridge.  He had thought her extremely beautiful and very
+fascinating.  Most of his college friends had ladies whom they adored;
+it was considered quite a thing to do--and so Robin adored Dahlia.
+
+No one knew anything about the Feverels.  The mother was kept in the
+background and the father was dead--there was really only Dahlia; and
+when Robin was with her he never thought of questioning her as to
+antecedents of earlier history.  For two months he loved her
+passionately, chiefly because he saw her very seldom.  When he went
+down at the end of the summer term he felt that she was the only thing
+in the world worth living for.  He became Byronic, scowled at Aunt
+Clare, and treated Garrett's cynicism with contempt.  He wrote letters
+to her every day full of the deepest sentiments and a great deal of
+amazingly bad poetry.  Clare wondered what was the matter, but asked no
+questions, and was indeed far too firmly convinced of the efficacy of
+the Trojan system to have any fears of mental or moral danger.
+
+Then Miss Feverel made a mistake; she came with her mother to stay at
+Pendragon.  For the first week Robin was blissfully happy--then he
+began to wonder.  The best people in Pendragon would have nothing to do
+with the Feverels.  Aunt Clare, unaware that they were friends of
+Robin's, pronounced them "commonly vulgar."  The mother was more in
+evidence than she had been at Cambridge, and Robin passed from dislike
+to horror and from horror to hatred.  Dahlia, too, seemed to have
+changed.  Robin had loved her too passionately hitherto to think of the
+great Division.  But soon he began to wonder.  There were certain
+things--little unimportant trifles, of course--that made him rather
+uneasy; he began to have a horrible suspicion that she was one of the
+Others; and then, once the suspicion was admitted, proof after proof
+came forward to turn it into certainty.
+
+How horrible, and what an escape!  His visits to the little
+lodging-house overlooking the sea where Dahlia played the piano so
+enchantingly, and Mrs. Feverel, a solemn, rather menacing figure,
+played silently and mournfully continuous Patience, were less and less
+frequent.  He was determined to break the matter off; it haunted his
+dreams, it troubled him all day; he was forced to keep his
+acquaintanceship with them secret, and was in perpetual terror lest
+Aunt Clare should discover it.  He had that most depressing of
+unwished-for possessions, a skeleton; its cupboard-door swung
+creakingly in the wind, and its bones rattled in his ears.
+
+No, the thing must come to an end at once, and completely.  They had
+invited him to dinner and he had accepted, meaning to use the occasion
+for the contemplated separation.  He had thought often enough of what
+he would say--words that had served others many times before in similar
+situations.  He would refer to their youth, the affair should be a
+midsummer episode, pleasant to look back upon when they were both older
+and married to more worthy partners; he would be a brother to her and
+she should be a sister to him--but, thank God for his escape!
+
+He believed that the Trojan traditions would carry him through.  He was
+not quite sure what she would do--cry probably, and remonstrate; but it
+would soon be over and he would be at peace once more.
+
+He dressed slowly and with his usual care.  It would be easier to speak
+with authority if there was no doubt about his appearance.  He decided
+to walk, and he passed through the garden into the town, his head a
+buzzing repetition of the words that he meant to say.  It was a
+beautiful evening; a soft mist hid the moon's sharper outline, but she
+shone, a vague circlet of light through a little fleet of fleecy white
+cloud.  Although it was early in September, some of the trees were
+beginning to change their dark green into faint gold, and the sharp
+outline of their leaves stood out against the grey pearl light of the
+sky.  As he passed into the principal street of Pendragon, Robin drew
+his coat closer about him, like some ancient conspirator.  He had no
+wish to be stopped by an inquisitive friend; his destination demanded
+secrecy.  Soon the lights and asphalt of the High Street gave place to
+dark, twisting paths and cobbled stones.  These obscure and narrow ways
+were rather pathetic survivals of the old Pendragon.  At night they had
+an almost sinister appearance; the lamps were at very long intervals
+and the old houses leaned over the road with a certain crazy
+picturesqueness that was, at the same time, exceedingly dangerous.
+There were few lights in the windows and very few pedestrians on the
+cobbles; the muffled roar of the sea sounded close at hand.  And,
+indeed, it sprang upon you quite magnificently at a turn of the road.
+To-night it scarcely moved; a ripple as the waves licked the sand, a
+gentle rustle as of trees in the wind when the pebbles were dragged
+back with the ebb--that was all.  It seemed strangely mysterious under
+the misty, uncertain light of the moon.
+
+The houses facing the sea loomed up darkly against the horizon--a black
+contrast with the grey of sea and sky.  It was No. 4 where the Feverels
+lived.  There was a light in the upper window and some one was playing
+the piano.  Robin hesitated for some minutes before ringing the bell.
+When it had rung he heard the piano stop.  For a few seconds there was
+no sound; then there were steps in the passage and the door was opened
+by the very dowdy little maid-of-all-work whose hands were always dirty
+and whose eyes were always red, as though with perpetual weeping.
+
+With what different eyes he saw the house now!  On his first visit, the
+sun had dazzled his eyes; there had been flowers in the drawing-room
+and she had come to meet him in some charming dress; he had stood
+enraptured at the foot of the stairs, deeming it Paradise.  Now the
+lamp in the hall flared with the wind from the door, and he was acutely
+conscious of a large rent in the dirty, faded carpet.  The house was
+perfectly still--it might have been a place of ghosts, with the moon
+shining mistily through the window on the stairs and the strange,
+insistent murmur of the sea beating mysteriously through the closed
+doors!
+
+There was no one in the drawing-room, and its appalling bad taste
+struck him as it had never done before.  How could he have been blind
+to it?  The glaring yellow carpet, the bright purple lamp-shades, the
+gilt looking-glass over the fireplace, and, above all, dusty, drooping
+paper flowers in bright china vases ranged in a row by the window.  Of
+course, it might be merely the lodgings.  Lodgings always were like
+that--but to live with them for months!  To attempt no change, to leave
+the flowers, and the terrible oil-painting "Lost in the Snow"--an
+obvious British Public appeal to a pathos that simply shrieked at you,
+with its hideous colours and very material snow-storm.  No, Robin could
+only repeat once more, What an escape!
+
+But had he, after all, escaped?  He was not quite sure, as he stood by
+the window waiting.  It might be difficult, and he was unmistakably
+nervous.
+
+Dahlia closed the door, and stood there for a moment before coming
+forward.
+
+"Robin--at last!" and she held out both hands to him.  They were the
+same words that his aunt had used to his father last night, he
+remembered foolishly, and at once they seemed strained, false,
+ridiculous!
+
+He took her hand and said something about being in time; then, as she
+seemed to expect it, he bent down and kissed her.
+
+She was pretty in a rather obvious way.  If there had been less
+artificiality there would have been more charm; of middle height, she
+was slim and dark, and her hair, parted in the middle, fell in waves
+over her temples.  She affected a rather simple, aesthetic manner that
+suited her dark eyes and rather pale complexion.  You said that she was
+intense until you knew her.  To-night she wore a rather pretty dress of
+some dark-brown stuff, cut low at the neck, and with her long white
+arms bare.  She had obviously taken a good deal of trouble this
+evening, and had undoubtedly succeeded.
+
+"And so Sir Robert has deigned to come and see his humble dependants at
+last!" she said, laughing.  "A whole fortnight, Robin, and you've not
+been near us."
+
+"I'm dreadfully sorry," he said, "but I've really been too terribly
+busy.  The Governor coming home and one thing and another----"
+
+He felt gauche and awkward, the consciousness of what he must say after
+dinner weighed on him heavily.  He could hardly believe that there had
+ever been a time when he had talked eagerly, passionately--he cursed
+himself for a fool.
+
+"Yes, we've been very lonely and you're a naughty boy," said Dahlia.
+"But now you are here I won't scold you if you promise to tell me
+everything you've done since last time----"
+
+"Oh! done?" said Robin vaguely; "I really don't know--the usual sort of
+thing, I suppose--not much to do in Pendragon at any time."
+
+She had been looking at him curiously while he was speaking.  Now she
+suddenly changed her voice.  "I've been so lonely without you, dear,"
+she said, speaking almost in a whisper; "I fancied--of course it was
+silly of me--that perhaps there was some one else--that you were
+getting a little tired of me.  I was--very unhappy.  I nearly wrote,
+but I was afraid that--some one might see it.  Letters are always
+dangerous.  But it's very lonely here all day--with only mother.  If
+you could come a little oftener, dear--it means everything to me."
+
+Her voice was a little husky as though tears were not far away, and she
+spoke in little short sentences--she seemed to find it hard to say the
+words.
+
+Robin suddenly felt a brute.  How could he ever tell her of what was in
+his mind?  If it was really so much to her he could never leave
+her--not at once like that; he must do it gradually.
+
+She was sitting by him on the sofa and looked rather delightful.  She
+had the pathetic expression that always attracted him, and he felt very
+sorry indeed.  How blank her days would be without him!  Part of the
+romance had always been his role of King Cophetua, and tears sprang to
+his eyes as he thought of the poor beggar-maid, alone, forlornly
+weeping, when he had finally withdrawn his presence.
+
+"I think it is partly the sea," she said, putting her hand gently on
+his sleeve.  "When one is sitting quite alone here in the evening with
+nothing to do and no one to talk to, one hears it so plainly--it is
+almost frightening.  You know, Robin, old boy, I don't care for
+Pendragon very much.  I only came here because of you--and now--if you
+never come to see us----"
+
+She stopped with a little catch in her voice.  Her hand fastened on his
+sleeve; their heads were very close together and her hair almost
+brushed his cheek.
+
+He really was an awful brute, but at the same time it was rather
+nice--that she should care so much.  It would be terrible for her when
+he told her what was in his mind.  She might even get very ill--he had
+read of broken hearts often enough; and she was extraordinarily nice
+just now--he didn't want to hurt her.  But still a fellow must think of
+his career, his future, and that sort of thing.
+
+Mrs. Feverel entered--ponderous, solemn, dressed in a black silk that
+trails behind her in funereal folds.  Her hands were clammy to the
+touch and her voice was a deep bass.  She said very little, but sat
+down silently by the window, forming, as she always did, a dark and
+extremely solid background.  Robin hated and feared her.  There was
+something sinister in her silence--something ominous in her perpetual
+black.  He had never heard her laugh.
+
+Dahlia was laughing now.  "I'm a selfish brute, Bobby," she said, "to
+bother you with my silly little complaints when we want to be cheerful.
+We'll have a good time this evening, won't we?  We'll sing some of
+those Rubinstein's duets after dinner, and I've got a new song that
+I've been learning especially for you.  And then there's your father; I
+do want to hear all about him so much--he must be so interesting,
+coming from New Zealand.  Mother and I saw a gentleman in the town this
+morning that we thought must be him.  Tall and brown, with a light
+brown moustache and a dark blue suit.  It must be splendid to have a
+father again after twenty years without him."
+
+Her voice dropped a little, as though to refer gently to her own
+fatherless condition.
+
+Mrs. Feverel, a dark shadow in the window, sighed heavily.
+
+"Oh! the Governor!" said Robin, a little irritably.  "No!  It's rather
+difficult--he doesn't seem to know what to do and say.  I suppose it's
+being in New Zealand so long!  It makes it rather difficult for me."
+
+He spoke as one suffering under an unjust accusation.  It was bad luck,
+and he wondered vaguely why Dahlia had been so interested; why should
+she care, unless, and the idea struck him with horror, she already
+regarded him as a prospective father-in-law?
+
+Dinner was announced by the grimy little maid.  Robin took the dark
+figure of Mrs. Feverel on his arm and made some hesitating remark about
+the weather--but he had the curious and unpleasant sensation of her
+seeing through him most thoroughly and clearly.  He felt ridiculously
+like a captive, and his doubts as to his immediate escape increased.
+The gaudy drawing-room, the dingy stairs, the gas hissing in the hall,
+had been, in all conscience, depressing enough, but now this heavy,
+mute, ominous woman, trailing her black robes so funereally behind her,
+seemed, to his excited fancy, some implacable Frankenstein created by
+his own thrice-cursed folly.
+
+The dinner was not a success.  The food was bad, but that Robin had
+expected.  As he faced the depression of it, he was more than ever
+determined to end it, conclusively, that evening, but Mrs. Feverel's
+gloom and Dahlia's little attempts at coquettish gaiety frightened him.
+The conversation, supported mainly by Dahlia, fell into terrible
+lapses, and the attempts to start it again had the unhappy air of
+desperate remedies doomed to failure.  Dahlia's pathetic glances failed
+of their intent.  Robin was too deeply engaged in his own gloomy
+reflections to notice them, but her eyes filled with tears, and at last
+her efforts ceased and a horrible, gloomy silence fell like a choking
+fog upon them.
+
+"Will you smoke, Robin?" she said, when at last the dessert, in the
+shape of some melancholy oranges and one very attenuated banana, was on
+the table.  "Egyptian or Turkish--or will you have a pipe?"
+
+He took a cigarette clumsily from the box and his fingers trembled as
+he lit first hers and then his own--he was so terribly afraid of
+cutting a ridiculous figure.  He sat down again and beat a tattoo on
+the tablecloth.  Mrs. Feverel, with some grimly muttered excuse, left
+the room.  She watched him a moment from the other side of the table
+and then she came over to him.  She bent over his chair, leaning her
+hands on his shoulders.
+
+"Robin, what is it?" she said.  "What's happened?"
+
+"Nothing," he said gloomily.  "It's all right----"
+
+"Oh! do you suppose I haven't seen?"  She bent closer to him and
+pressed her cheek against his.  "Robin, old boy--you're not getting
+tired of me?  You're tired or cross to-night--I don't know.  I've been
+very patient all this time--waiting for you--hoping that you would
+come--longing for you--and you never came--all these many weeks.  Then
+I thought that, perhaps, you were too busy or were afraid of people
+talking--but, at last, there was to be to-night; and I've looked
+forward to it--oh! so much!--and now you're like this!"
+
+She was nearly crying, and there was that miserable little catch in her
+voice.  He did feel an awful cad--he hadn't thought that she would
+really care so much as this; but still it had to be done some time, and
+this seemed a very good opportunity.
+
+He cleared his throat, and, beating the carpet with his foot, tried to
+speak with dignity as well as feeling--but he only succeeded in being
+patronising.
+
+"You know," he said quickly, and without daring to look at her, "one's
+had time to think.  I don't mean that I'm sorry it's all been as it
+has--we've had a ripping time--but I'm not sure--one can't be
+certain--that it's best for it to go on--quite like this.  You see, old
+girl, it's so damned serious.  Of course my people have ideas about my
+marrying--of course the Trojans have always had to be careful.  People
+expect it of them----"
+
+He stopped for a moment.
+
+"You mean that I'm not good enough?"
+
+She had stepped back from his chair and was standing with her back to
+the wall.  He got up from his chair and turned round and faced her,
+leaning with his hands on the table.  But he could not face her for
+long; his eyes dropped before the fury in hers.
+
+"No, no, Dahlia--how stupid of you!--of course it's not that.  It's
+really rather unkind of you to make it harder for me.  It's difficult
+enough to explain.  You're good enough for any one, but I'm not quite
+sure, dear, whether we'd be quite the people to marry!  We'd be
+splendid friends, of course--we'll always be that--but we're both very
+young, and, after all, it's rather hard for one to know.  It was
+splendid at Cambridge, but I don't think we quite realised----"
+
+"You mean you didn't," she broke in quickly.  "I know well enough.
+Some one's been speaking to you, Robin."
+
+"No--nobody."  He looked at her fiercely.  She had hurt his pride.  "As
+if I'd be weak enough to let that make any difference.  No one has said
+a word--only----"
+
+"Only--you've been thinking that we're not quite good enough for
+you--that we'd soil your Trojan carpets and chairs--that we'd stain
+your Trojan relations.  I--I know--I----"
+
+And then she broke down altogether.  She was kneeling by the table with
+her head in her arms, sobbing as though her heart would break.
+
+"Oh, I say, Dahlia, don't!  I can't bear to see you cry--it will be all
+right, old girl, to-morrow--it will really--and then you will see that
+it was wiser.  You will thank me for speaking about it.  Of course
+we'll always be good friends.  I----"
+
+"Robin, you don't mean it.  You can't!"  She had risen from her knees
+and now stood by him, timidly, with one hand on his arm.  "You have
+forgotten all those splendid times at Cambridge.  Don't you remember
+that evening on the Backs?  Just you and I alone when there was that
+man singing on the other side of the water, when you said that we would
+be like that always--together.  Oh, Robin dear, it can't have been all
+nothing to you."
+
+She looked very charming with her eyes a little wet and her hair a
+little dishevelled.  But his resolution must not weaken--now that he
+had progressed so far, he must not go back.  But he put his arm round
+her.
+
+"Really, old girl, it is better--for both of us.  We can wait.  Perhaps
+in a few years' time it will seem different again.  We can think about
+it then.  I don't want to seem selfish, but you must think about me a
+little.  You must see how hard it has been for me to say this, and that
+it has only been with the greatest difficulty that I've been strong
+enough.  Believe me, dear, it is harder for me than it is for you--much
+harder."
+
+He was really getting on very well.  He had had no idea that he would
+do it so nicely.  Poor girl! it was hard luck--perhaps he had led her
+to expect rather too much--those letters of his had been rather too
+warm, a little indiscreet.  But no doubt she would marry some excellent
+man of her own class--in a few years she would look back and wonder how
+she had ever had the fortune to know so intimately a man of Robin's
+rank!  Meanwhile, the scene had better end as soon as possible.
+
+She had let him keep his arm round her waist, and now she suddenly
+leant back and looked up in his face.
+
+"Robin, darling," she whispered, "you can't mean it--not that we should
+part like this.  Why, think of the times that we have had--the
+splendid, glorious times--and all that we're going to have.  Think of
+all that you've said to me, over and over again----"
+
+She crept closer to him.  "You love me really, dear, all the same.
+It's only that some one's been talking to you and telling you that it's
+foolish.  But that mustn't make any difference.  We're strong enough to
+face all the world.  You know that you said you were in the summer, and
+I'm sure that you are now.  Wait till to-morrow, dear, and you'll see
+it all differently."
+
+"I tell you nobody's been talking," he said, drawing his arm away.
+"Besides, if they did, it wouldn't make any difference.  No, Dahlia,
+it's got to stop.  We're too young to know, and besides, it would be
+absurd anyway.  I know it's bad luck on you.  Perhaps I said rather too
+much in the summer.  But of course we'll always be good friends.  I
+know you'll see it as I do in a little time.  We've both been
+indiscreet, and it's better to draw back now than later--really it is."
+
+"Do you mean it, Robin?"
+
+She stood facing him with her hands clenched; her face was white and
+her eyes were blazing with fury.
+
+"Yes, of course," he said.  "I think it's time this ended----"
+
+"Not before I've told you what I think of you," she cried.  "You're a
+thief and a coward--you've stolen a girl's love and then you're afraid
+to face the world--you're afraid of what people will say.  If you don't
+love me, you're tied to me, over and over again.  You've made me
+promises--you made me love you--and now when your summer amusement is
+over you fling me aside--you and your fine relations!  Oh! you
+gentlemen!  It would be a good thing for the world if we were rid of
+the whole lot of you!  You coward!  You coward!"
+
+He was taken aback by her fury.
+
+"I say--Dahlia--" he stammered, "it's unfair----"
+
+"Oh! yes!" she broke in, "unfair, of course, to you! but nothing to
+me--nothing to me that you stole my love--robbed me of it like a common
+thief--pretended to love me, promised to marry me, and now--now--Oh!
+unfair! yes, always for the man, never for the girl--she doesn't count!
+She doesn't matter at all.  Break her heart and fling it away and
+nobody minds--it's as good as a play!"
+
+She burst into tears, and stood with her head in her hands, sobbing as
+though her heart would break.  It was a most distressing scene!
+
+"Really, really, Dahlia," said Robin, feeling extremely uncomfortable
+(it was such a very good thing, he thought, that none of his friends
+could see him), "it's no use your taking it like this.  I had better
+go--we can't do any good by talking about it now.  To-morrow, when we
+can look at it calmly, it will seem different."
+
+He moved to the door, but she made another attempt and put her hand
+timidly on his arm to stop him.
+
+"No, no, Robin, I didn't mean what I said--not like that.  I didn't
+know what I was saying.  Oh, I love you, dear, I love you!  I can't let
+you go like that.  You don't know what it means to me.  You are taking
+everything from me--when you rob a girl of her love, of her heart, you
+leave her nothing.  If you go now, I don't care what happens to
+me--death--or worse, That's how you make a bad woman, Robin.  Taking
+her love from her and then letting her go.  You are taking her soul!"
+
+But he placed her gently aside.  "Nonsense, Dahlia," he said.  "You are
+excited to-night.  You exaggerate.  You will meet a man much worthier
+than myself, and then you will see that I was right."
+
+He opened the door and was gone.
+
+She sat down at the table.  She heard him open and shut the hall door,
+and then his steps echoed down the street, and at last there was
+silence.  She sat at the table with her head bent, her eyes gazing at
+the oranges and the bananas.  The house was perfectly silent, and her
+very heart seemed to have ceased to beat.  Of course she did not
+realise it; it seemed to her still as though he would come back in a
+moment and put his arms round her and tell her that it was all a
+game--just to see if she had really cared.  But the silence of the
+street and the house was terrible.  It choked her, and she pulled at
+her frock to loosen the tightness about her throat.  It was cruel of
+him to have gone away like that--but of course he would come back.
+Only why was that cold misery at her heart?  Why did she feel as if
+some one had placed a hand on her and drawn all her life away, and left
+her with no emotion or feeling--only a dull, blank, despair, like a
+cold fog through which no sun shone?
+
+For she was beginning to realise it slowly.  He had gone away, after
+telling her, brutally, frankly, that he was tired of her--that he had,
+indeed, never really cared for her.  That was it--he had never cared
+for her--all those things that he had promised in the summer had been
+false, words without any meaning.  All that idyll had been hollow, a
+sham, and she had made it the centre of her world.
+
+She got up from the table and swayed a little as she stood.  She
+pressed her hands against her forehead as though she would drive into
+her brain the fact that there would be no one now--no one at all--it
+was all a lie, a lie, a lie!
+
+The door opened softly and Mrs. Feverel stole in.  "Dahlia--what has he
+done?"
+
+She looked at her as though she could not see her.
+
+"Oh, nothing," she said slowly.  "He did nothing.  Only it's all
+over--there is not going to be any more."
+
+And then, as though the full realisation of it had only just been borne
+in upon her, she sat down at the table again and burst into passionate
+crying.
+
+Mrs. Feverel watched her.  "I knew it was coming, my dear--weeks ago.
+You know I told you, only you wouldn't listen.  Lord! it was plain
+enough.  He'd only been playing the same game as all the rest of them."
+
+Dahlia dried her eyes fiercely.  "I'm a fool to make so much of it,"
+she said.  "I wasn't good enough--he said--not good enough.  His people
+wouldn't like it and the rest--Oh!  I've been a fool, a fool!"
+
+Her mood changed to anger again.  Even now she did not grasp it fully,
+but he had insulted her.  He had flung back in her face all that she
+had given him.  Injured pride was at work now, and for a moment she
+hated him so that she could have killed him gladly had he been there.
+But it was no good--she could not think about it clearly; she was
+tired, terribly tired.
+
+"I'm tired to death, mother," she said.  "I can't think to-night."
+
+She stumbled a little as she turned to the door.
+
+"At least," said Mrs. Feverel, "there are the letters."
+
+But Dahlia had scarcely heard.
+
+"The letters?" she said.
+
+"That he wrote in the summer.  You have them safe enough?"
+
+But the girl did not reply.  She only climbed heavily up the dark
+stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+Clare Trojan was having her breakfast in her own room.  It was ten
+o'clock, and a glorious September morning, and the sparrows were
+twittering on the terrace outside as though they considered it highly
+improper for any one to have breakfast between four walls when Nature
+had provided such a splendid feast on the lawn.
+
+Clare was reading a violent article in the _National Review_ concerning
+the inadequacy of our present solution of the housing problem; but it
+did not interest her.
+
+If the world had only been one large Trojan family there would have
+been no problem.  The trouble was that there were Greeks.  She did
+dimly realise their existence, but the very thought of them terrified
+her.  Troy must be defended, and there were moments when Clare was
+afraid that its defenders were few; but she blinded herself to the
+dangers of attack.  "There are no Greeks, there _are_ no Greeks."
+Clare stood alone on the Trojan walls and defied that world of
+superstition and pagan creeds.  With the armour of tradition and an
+implicit belief in the watchword of all true Trojan leaders, "Qui dort
+garde," she warded the sacred hearths; but there were moments when her
+eyes were opened and signs were revealed to her of another
+world--something in which Troy could have no place; and then she was
+afraid.
+
+She was considering Harry, his coming, and his probable bearing on
+present conditions, and she knew that once again the Trojan walls were
+in danger.  It seemed to her, as she sat there, cruelly unfair that the
+son of the House, the man who in a little while would stand before the
+world as the head of the Trojan tradition, should be the chief
+instrument in the attempted destruction of the same.  She had not liked
+Harry in the old days.  She had always, even as a girl, a very stern
+idea of the dignity of the House.  Harry had never fulfilled this idea,
+had never even attempted to.  He had been wild, careless,
+undisciplined, accompanying strange uncouth persons on strange uncouth
+adventures; he had been almost a byword in the place.  No, she had not
+liked him; she had almost hated him at one time.  And then after he had
+gone away she had deliberately forgotten him; she had erased his name
+from the fair sheet of the Trojan record, and had hoped that the House
+would never more be burdened by his undisciplined history.  Then she
+had heard that there was a son and heir, and her one thought had been
+of capture, deliverance of the new son of the House from his father's
+influence.  She was not deliberately cruel in her determination; she
+saw that the separation must hurt the father, but she herself was ready
+to make sacrifice for the good of the House and she expected the same
+self-denial in others.  Harry made no difficulties.  New Zealand was no
+place for a lonely widower to bring up his boy, and Robin was sent
+home.  From that moment he was the centre of Clare's world; much
+self-denial can make a woman good, only maternity can make her divine.
+To bring the boy up for the House, to tutor him in all the little and
+big things that a Trojan must know and do, to fit him to take his place
+at the head of the family on a later day; all these things she laboured
+for, day and night without ceasing, and without divided interests.  She
+loved the boy, too, passionately, with more than a mother's love, and
+now she looked back over what had been her life-work with pride and
+satisfaction.  She had tried to forget Harry.  She hoped, although she
+never dared to face the thought in her heart, that he would die there,
+away in that foreign country, without coming back to them again.  Robin
+was hers now; she had educated him, loved him, scolded him--he was all
+hers, she would brook no division.  Then, when she had heard that Harry
+was to come home, it had been at first more than she could bear.  She
+had burst into wild incoherent protests; she had prayed that an
+accident might happen to him and that he might never reach home.  And
+then the Trojan pride and restraint had come to her aid.  She was
+ashamed, bewildered, that she could have sunk to such depths; she
+prepared to meet him calmly and quietly; she even hoped that, perhaps,
+he might be so changed that she would welcome him.  And, after all, he
+would in a little time be head of the House.  Robin, too, was strongly
+under her influence, and it was unlikely that he would leave her for a
+man whom he had never known, for whom he could not possibly care.
+
+It was this older claim of hers with regard to Robin that did, she
+felt, so obviously strengthen her position, and now that Harry had
+really returned, she thought that her fears need not trouble her much
+longer--he did all the things that Robin disliked most.  His
+boisterousness, heartiness, and good-fellowship, dislike of everyday
+conventionality, would all, she knew, count against him with Robin.
+She had seen him shrink on several occasions, and each time she had
+been triumphantly glad.  For she was frightened, terribly frightened.
+Harry was threatening to take from her the one great thing around which
+her life was centred; if he robbed her of Robin he robbed her of
+everything, and she must fight to keep him.  That it would come to a
+duel between them she had long foreseen, she had governed for so long
+that she would not easily yield her place now; but she had not known
+that she would feel as she did about Robin, she had not known that she
+would be jealous--jealous of every look and word and motion.  She had
+never known what jealousy was before, but now in the silence of the
+golden, sunlit room, with only the twittering of the birds on the lawn
+to disturb her thoughts, she faced the facts honestly without
+shrinking, and she knew that she hated her brother.  Oh! why couldn't
+he go back again to his sheep-shearing!  Why had he come to disturb
+them!  It was not his environment, it was not his life at all!  She
+felt that they could never lead again that same quiet, ordered
+existence; like a gale of wind he had burst their doors and broken
+their windows, and now the house was open, desolate, to the world.
+
+She went up to her father's room, as was her custom every morning after
+breakfast.  He was lying at his open window, watching, with those
+strange, restless eyes of his, the great expanse of sea and sky
+stretching before him.  His room was full of light and air.  Its white
+walls and ceiling, great bowls of some of the last of the summer's
+roses, made it seem young and vigorous and alive.  It was almost a
+shock to see that huddled, dying old man with his bent head and
+trembling hands--but his eyes were young, and his heart.
+
+As she looked at him, she wondered why she had never really cared for
+him.  At first she had been afraid; then, as she grew older and a
+passionate love for and pride in the family as a conservative and
+ancient institution developed in her, that fear became respect, and she
+looked up to her father from a distance, admiring his reserve and pride
+but never loving him; and now that respect had become pity, and above
+all a great longing that he might live for many, many years, securing
+the household gods from shame and tending the fire on the Trojan
+hearth.  For at the moment of his death would come the crisis--the
+question of the new rule.  At one time it had seemed certain that Robin
+would be king, with herself a very vigilant queen-regent.  But now that
+was all changed.  Harry had come home, and it was into his hands that
+the power would fall.
+
+She had often wondered that she knew her father so little.  He had
+always been difficult to understand; a man of two moods strongly
+opposed--strangely taciturn for days together, and then brilliantly
+conversational, amusing, and a splendid companion.  She had never known
+which of these attitudes was the real one, and now that he was old she
+had abandoned all hope of ever answering the question.  His moods were
+more strongly contrasted than ever.  He often passed quickly from one
+to the other.  If she had only known which was the real one; she felt
+at times that his garrulity was a blind--that he watched her almost
+satirically whilst he talked.  She feared his silences terribly, and
+she used often to feel that a moment was approaching when he would
+reveal to her definitely and finally some plot that he had during those
+many watchful years been forming.  She knew that he had never let her
+see his heart--he had never taken her into his confidence.  She had
+tried to establish some more intimate relationship, but she had failed;
+and now, for many years, she had left it at that.
+
+But she wanted to know what he thought of Harry.  She had waited for a
+sign, but he had given none; and although she had watched him carefully
+she had discovered nothing.  He had not mentioned his son--a stranger
+might have thought that he had not noticed him.  But Clare knew him too
+well to doubt that he had come to some definite conclusion in the
+matter.
+
+She bustled cheerfully about the room, humming a little tune and
+talking to him, lightly and with no apparent purpose.  He watched the
+gulls fly past the open window, his eyes rested on a golden flash of
+sun that struck some shining roof in the Cove, but his mind was back in
+the early days when he had played his game with the best and had seen
+the bright side of the world.
+
+"He was a rake, Jack Crayle"--he seemed scarcely conscious that Clare
+was in the room--"a rake but a good heart, and an amusing fellow too.
+I remember meeting old Rendle and Hawdon Sallust--Hawdon of the
+eighties, you know--not the old man--he kept at home--all three of them
+at White's, Rendle and Sallust and Crayle; Jack bet Rendle he wouldn't
+stop the next man he met in the street and claim him as an old friend
+and bring him in--and, by Jove, he took it and brought him in,
+too--sort of tramp chap he was, too--dirty, untidy fellow--but Rendle
+was game serious--by Gad, he was.  Said he was an old friend that had
+fallen on evil times--gave him a drink and won the bet--'63 that
+was--the year Bailey won that polo match against old Tom Radley--all
+the town was talking of it.  By Gad, he could ride, Bailey could.
+Why----"
+
+"It's time for your medicine, father," said Clare, breaking ruthlessly
+in upon the reminiscences.
+
+"Eh, dear, yes," he said, looking at her curiously.  "You're never
+late, Clare, always up to time.  Yes, yes, well, well; in '63 that was.
+I remember it like yesterday--old Tom--particular friend he was of mine
+then, although we broke afterwards--my fault too, probably, about a
+horse it was.  I----"
+
+But Clare gave him his medicine, first tying a napkin round his neck
+lest she should spill the drops.  He looked at her, smiling, over the
+napkin.
+
+"You were always a girl for method," he said again; "not like Harry."
+
+She looked at him quickly, but could guess nothing; she was suddenly
+frightened, as she so often was when he laughed like that.  She always
+expected that some announcement would follow.  It was almost as if he
+had threatened her.
+
+"Harry?" she said.  "No.  But he is very like he used to be in some
+ways.  It is nice to have him back again--but--well, he will find
+Pendragon rather different from Auckland, I'm afraid."
+
+Sir Jeremy said nothing.  He lay there without moving; Clare untied the
+napkin, and put back the medicine, and wheeled the chair into a sunnier
+part of the room and away from the window.
+
+"You must get on with Harry, Clare," he said suddenly, sharply.
+
+"Why, yes," she answered, laughing a little uneasily.  "Of course we
+get on.  Only his way of looking at things was always a little
+different--even, perhaps, a little difficult to understand"; and then,
+after a little pause, "I am stupid, I know.  It was always hard for me
+to see like other people."
+
+But he was not listening to her.  He was smiling at the sun, and the
+birds on the lawn, and the flashing gold of the distant sand.
+
+"No, you never saw like Harry," he said at last.  "You want to be old
+to understand," and he would say no more.
+
+He talked to her no more that morning, and she was vaguely uneasy.
+What was he thinking about Harry, and how did his opinion influence the
+situation?
+
+She fancied that she saw signs of rebellion.  For many years he had
+allowed her to do what she would, and although she had sometimes
+wondered whether he was quite as passive as she had fancied, she had
+had no fear of any disturbance.  Now there was something vaguely
+menacing in his very silences.  And, in some undefined way, the
+pleasure that he took in the cries of birds, the plunge and chatter of
+the sea as it rose and fell on the southern shore, the glint of the sun
+on the gold and green distances of rock and moor was alarming.  She
+herself did not understand those things; indeed, she scarcely saw them,
+and was inclined to despise any one who loved any unpractical beauty,
+anything that was not at least traditional.  And now this was a bond
+between her father and Harry.  They had both loved wild, uncivilised
+things, and it was this very trait in their character that had made
+division between them before.  But now what had been in those early
+years the cause of trouble was their common ground of sympathy.
+
+They shared some secret of which she knew nothing, and she was afraid
+lest Robin should learn it too.
+
+She went about her housekeeping duties that morning with an uneasy
+mind.  The discipline below stairs was excellent because she was
+feared.  It was not that she was hasty-tempered or unjust; indeed the
+cook, who had been there for many years, said that she had never seen
+Miss Clare angry, and her justice was a thing to marvel at.  She always
+gave people their due, and exactly their due; she never over-praised or
+blamed, and that was why people said that she was cold; it was also,
+incidentally, responsible for her excellent discipline.
+
+She was, as Sir Jeremy had said, a woman of amazing method.  But the
+attitude of her actual household helped her; they were all, by
+education and environment, Trojans.  Whatever they had been before they
+entered service at "The Flutes"--Radicals, Socialists, Dissenters, or
+Tones--at the moment of passing the threshold they were transformed
+into Trojans.  Other things fell from them like a mantle, and in their
+serious devotion to traditional Conservatism they were examples of the
+true spirit of Feudalism.  Beldam, the butler, had long ago graduated
+as Professor in the system.  Coming as page-boy in earlier years, he
+had acquired the by no means easy art of Trojan diplomacy.  It was now
+his duty to overhaul, as it were, every servant that passed the gates;
+an overhauling, moreover, done seriously and with much searching of the
+heart.  Were you a Trojan?  That is, do you consider that you are
+exceptionally fortunate in being chosen to perform menial but necessary
+duties in the Trojan household?  Will you spend the rest of your days,
+not only in performing your duties worthily, but also in preaching to a
+blind and misguided world the doctrine of Trojan perfection and
+superiority?  If the answer were honestly affirmative, you were
+accepted; otherwise, you were expelled with a fortnight's wages and
+eternal contempt.
+
+Even the scullerymaid was not spared, but had to pass an examination in
+rites and rituals so severe that one unfortunate, Annie Grace Marks,
+after Beldam had spoken to her severely for half-an-hour, burst out
+with an impetuous, "Thank Gawd, she was a Marks, which was as good as
+the High and Mighty any day of the week, and better, for there wasn't
+no pride in the Marks and never 'ad been."
+
+She received her dismissal that same evening.
+
+But the case of Annie Marks was an isolated one.  Rebellion was very
+occasional, and, for the most, the servants stayed at "The
+Flutes"--partly because the pay was good, and partly because the very
+reiteration of Trojan supremacy gave them a feeling of elevation very
+pleasant to their pride.  In accordance with all true feudal law, you
+lost your own sense of birth and ancestry and became in a moment a
+Trojan; for Smith, Jones, and Robinson this was very comforting.
+
+So Clare had very little trouble, and this morning she was able to
+finish her duties speedily, and devote her whole attention to the
+crisis that threatened the family.
+
+She decided to see Garrett, and made her way to his room.  He was
+writing, and seemed disturbed by her entry.  He had been working for
+some years on a book to be entitled, "Our Aristocracy: its Threatened
+Supremacy."  He was still engaged on the preliminary chapter, "Some
+aspects of historical aristocracy," and it had developed into a
+somewhat minute account of Trojan past history.  He had no expectations
+of ever concluding the work, but it gave him a pleasant sense of
+importance and seemed in some vague way to be of value to the Trojan
+family.
+
+He was always happy when at work, although he effected very little;
+but, after all, the great stylists always worked slowly.  His style
+was, it is true, somewhat commonplace; but his rather minute output
+allowed him to rank, in his own estimation, with Pater and Omar
+Khayyam, and disdain the voluminous facility of Thackeray and Dickens.
+He was, he felt, one of the "precious" writers, and so long as no one
+saw his work he was able both to comfort himself and to impress others
+with the illusion.
+
+It was said vaguely in Pendragon that "Garrett Trojan was a clever
+fellow--was writing a book--said to be brilliant, of great promise--no,
+he hadn't seen it, but----" etc.
+
+So Garrett looked at his sister a little resentfully.
+
+"I hope it's important, Clare," he said, "because--well, you know, the
+morning's one's time for work, and once one gets off the track it's
+difficult to get back; not that I've done much, you know, only half a
+page--but this kind of thing can't move quickly."
+
+"I'm sorry, Garrie," she answered, "but you've got to talk to me.
+There are things about which I want your advice."
+
+She did not really want it; she had decided on her line of conduct, and
+nothing that he could say would alter her decision--but it flattered
+him, and she needed his help.
+
+"Well, of course," he said, pushing his chair back and coming to the
+fire, "if it's anything I can do--  What is it, Clare?  Household or
+something in the town?"
+
+"Oh, nothing," she laughed at him.  "Don't be worried, Garrie; I know
+it's horrid to disturb you, and there's really nothing--only--well,
+after all, there is only us, isn't there?  for acting together I
+mean--and I want to know what line you're going on."
+
+"Oh! about Harry?"  He looked at her sharply for a moment.  "You know
+that I object to lines, Clare.  They are dangerous things."  He implied
+that he was above them.  "Of course there are times when it is
+necessary to--well, to be decisive; but at present it seems to me that
+we must wait for the situation to develop--it will, of course."
+
+"I knew that you would say that," she said impatiently.  "But it won't
+do; the situation _has_ developed.  You always preferred to look on--it
+is, as you say, less dangerous; but here I must have your help.  Harry
+has been back a week; he is, for you and me, unchanged.  The situation,
+as far as we go, is the same as it was twenty years ago.  He is not one
+of us, he never was, and, to do him justice, never pretended to be.
+We, or at any rate I, imagined that he would be different now, after
+all that time.  He is exactly the same."  She paused.
+
+"Well?" he said.  "All that for granted, it's true enough.  What's the
+trouble?"
+
+"Things aren't the same though, now.  There is father, and Robin.
+Father has taken to Harry strongly.  He told me so just now.  And for
+Robin----"
+
+"Scarcely captivated," said Garrett drily.  "Have you seen them
+together?  Hardly domestic----"
+
+Then he looked at her again and laughed.  "And that pleases you, Clare."
+
+"Of course," she answered him firmly.  "There is no good in hedging.
+He is no brother of ours, Garrett.  He is, what is more important
+still, no Trojan, and after all family counts for something.  We don't
+like him, Garrett.  Why be sentimental about it?  He will follow
+father--and it will be soon--_apres, le deluge_.  For ourselves, it
+does not matter.  It is hard, of course, but we have had our time, and
+there are other things and places.  It is about Robin.  I cannot bear
+to think what it would mean if he were alone here with Harry, after all
+these years."
+
+"He would not stay."
+
+"You think that?" Clare said eagerly.  "It is so hard to know.  He is
+still only a boy.  Of course Harry shocks him now, shocks
+everything--his sense of decency, his culture, his pride--but that will
+wear off; he will get used to it--and then----"
+
+It had been inevitable that the discussion should come, and Garrett had
+been waiting.  He had no intention of going to find her, he would wait
+until she came to him, but he had been anxious to know her opinion.
+For himself the possibility of Harry's return had never presented
+itself.  After all those years he would surely remain where he was.  In
+yielding his son he had seemed to abandon all claim to any rights of
+inheritance, and Garrett had thought of him as one comfortably dead.
+He had contemplated his own ultimate succession with the pleasurable
+certainty that it was absolutely the right thing.  In his love for a
+rather superficial tradition he was a perfect Trojan, and might be
+relied on to continue existing conditions without any attempt at
+radical changes.  Clare, too, would be of great use.
+
+But in a moment what had been, in his mind, certainty was changed into
+impossibility; instead of a certain successor he had become some one
+whose very existence was imperilled--his existence, that is, on the
+only terms that were in the least comfortable.  Everything that made
+life worth living was threatened.  Not that his brother would turn him
+out; he granted Harry the very un-Trojan virtues of generosity and
+affection for humanity in general--a rather foolish, gregarious
+open-handedness opposed obviously to all decent economy.  But Harry
+would keep him--and the very thought stirred Garrett to a degree of
+anger that his sluggish nature seldom permitted him.  Kept! and by
+Harry!  Harry the outlaw!  Harry the rebel!  Harry the Greek!  Garrett
+scarcely loved his brother when he thought of it.
+
+But it was necessary that some line of action should be adopted, and he
+was glad that Clare had taken the first step.
+
+"You don't think," he said doubtfully, "that he could be induced to go
+back?"
+
+"What!" cried Clare, "after these years and the way he has waited!
+Why, remember that first evening!  He will never leave this again.  He
+has been dreaming about it too long!"
+
+"I don't know," said Garrett.  "He'll be at loggerheads with the town
+very soon.  He has been saying curious things to a good many people.
+He objects to all improvement and says so.  The place will soon be too
+hot for him."
+
+But Clare shook her head.  "No," she said.  "He will soon find out
+about things--and then, in a little, when he takes father's place, what
+people think odd and unpleasant now will be original and strong.
+Besides, he would never go, whatever might happen, because of Robin."
+
+"Ah, yes, there is Robin.  It will be curious to watch developments
+there.  Randal comes to-day, doesn't he?"
+
+"Yes, this afternoon.  A most delightful boy.  I'm afraid that he may
+find Harry tiresome."
+
+"We must wait," Garrett said finally; "in a week's time we shall see
+better.  But, Clare, don't be rash.  There is father--and, besides, it
+will scarcely help Robin."
+
+"Oh! no melodrama," she said, laughing and moving towards the door.
+"Only, we understand each other, Garrie.  Things won't do as they
+are--or, as they promise to be."
+
+Garrett returned, with a sigh of relief, to his papers.
+
+For Harry the week had been a series of bitter disappointments.  He
+woke gradually from his dreams and saw that everything was changed.  He
+was in a new world and he was out of place.  Those dreams had been
+coloured, fantastically, beautifully.  In the white pebbles, the golden
+sand, the curling grey smoke of the Cove, he had formed pictures that
+had lightened many dreary and lonely hours in Auckland.  He was to come
+back; away from that huge unwieldy life in which comfort had no place
+and rest was impossible, back to all the old things, the wonderful
+glorious things that meant home and tradition and, above all, love.  He
+was a sentimentalist, he knew that now.  It had not been so in those
+old days; the life had been too adventurous and exciting, and he had
+despised the quiet comforts of a stay-at-home existence.  But now he
+knew its value; he would come home and take his place as head of the
+family, as father, as citizen--he had learnt his lesson, and at last it
+was time for the reward.
+
+But now that he had come home he found that the lesson was not learnt,
+or, perhaps, that the learning had been wasted; he must begin all over
+again.  Garrett and Clare had not changed; they had made no advances
+and had shown him quite plainly, in the courteous Trojan fashion, that
+they considered his presence an intrusion, that they had no place in
+their ranks that he could fill.  He was, he saw it plainly, no more in
+line with them than he had been twenty years before.  Indeed, matters
+were worse.  There was no possibility of agreement--they were poles
+apart.
+
+With the town, too, he was an "outsider."  The men at the Club thought
+him a bore--a person of strange enthusiasms and alarming heresies.  By
+the ladies he was considered rough: as Mrs. le Terry had put it to Miss
+Ponsonby, he was a kind of too terrible bushranger without the romance!
+He was gauche, he knew, and he hated the tea-parties.  They talked
+about things of which he knew nothing; he was too sincere to cover his
+convictions with the fatuous chatter that passed, in Fallacy Street
+society, for brilliant wit.  That it was fatuous he was convinced, but
+his conviction made matters no easier for him.
+
+But his attitude to the town had been, it must be confessed, from the
+very first a challenge.  He had expected things that were not there; he
+had thought that his dreams were realities, and when he had demanded
+golden colours and had been shown stuff of sombre grey, there had been
+wild rebellion and impatient discontent with the world.  He had thought
+Pendragon amazing in its utter disregard of the things that were to him
+necessities, but he had forgotten that he himself despised so
+completely things that were to Pendragon essentials.  He had asked for
+beauty and they had given him an Esplanade; he had searched for romance
+and had discovered the new hotel; he dreamed of the sand and blue water
+of the Cove and had awaked to find the place despised and contemned--a
+site for future boarding-houses.
+
+The town had thought him at first entertaining; they had made
+allowances for a certain rather picturesque absurdity consequent on
+backwoods and the friendship of Maories--men had laughed at the Club
+and detailed Harry Trojan's latest with added circumstances and
+incident, and for a while this was amusing.  But his vehemence knew no
+pause, and he stated his disgust at the practical spirit of the new
+Pendragon with what seemed to the choice spirits at the Club
+effrontery.  They smiled and then they sneered, and at last they left
+him alone.
+
+So Harry found himself, at the end of the first week after his return,
+alone in Pendragon.
+
+He had not, perhaps, cared for their rejection.  He had come, like
+Gottwalt in _Flegejahre_, "loving every dog, and wishing that every dog
+should love him"--but he had seen, at once, that his way must be apart
+from theirs, and in that knowledge he had tried to find the comfort of
+a minority certain of its own strength and disdainful of common
+opinion.  He had marvelled at their narrow vision and was unaware that
+his own point of view was equally narrow.
+
+And, after all, there was Robin.  Robin and he would defy Pendragon and
+laugh at its stupid little theories and short-sighted plans.  And then,
+slowly, irresistibly, he had seen that he was alone--that Robin was on
+the side of Pendragon.  He refused to admit it even now, and told
+himself again and again that the boy was naturally a little awkward at
+first--careless perhaps--certainly constrained.  But gradually a wall
+had been built up between them; they were greater strangers now than
+they had been on that first evening of the return.  Ah! how he had
+tried!  He had thought that, perhaps, the boy hated sentiment and he
+had held himself back, watching eagerly for any sign of affection,
+ready humbly to take part in anything, to help in any difficulty, to
+laugh, to sympathise, to take his place as he had been waiting to do
+for so many years.
+
+But Robin had made no advances, showed no sign.  He had almost repulsed
+him--had at least been absolutely indifferent.  They had had a walk
+together, and Harry had tried his best--but the attempt had been
+obvious, and at last there had come a terrible silence; they had walked
+back through the streets of Pendragon without a word.
+
+Everything that Harry had said had been unfortunate.  He had praised
+the Cove enthusiastically, and Robin had been contemptuous.  He had
+never heard of Pater and had confounded Ibsen with Jerome K. Jerome.
+He had praised cricket and met with no reply.  Twice he had seen
+Robin's mouth curl contemptuously, and it had cut him to the heart.
+
+Poor Harry! he was very lonely.  During the last two days he had been
+down in the Cove; he had found his way into the little inn and got in
+touch with some of the fishermen.  But they scarcely solaced his
+loneliness.  He had met Mary Bethel on the downs, and for a moment they
+had talked.  There was no stiffness there; she had looked at him simply
+as a friend, with no hostility, and he had been grateful.
+
+At last he had begun to look forward to the coming of Robin's friend,
+Randal.  He was, evidently, a person to whom Robin looked up with great
+admiration.  Perhaps he would form in some way a link, would understand
+the difficulties of both, and would help them.  Harry waited, eagerly,
+and formed a picture of Randal in his mind that gave him much
+encouragement.
+
+He was in his room now; it was half-past four, and the carriage had
+just passed up the drive.  He looked anxiously at his ties and
+hesitated between light green, brown, and black.  He had learnt the
+importance of these things in his son's eyes.  He was going next week
+to London to buy clothes; meanwhile he must not offend their sense of
+decency, and he hesitated in front of his tie-box like a girl before
+her first dance.  The green was terribly light.  It was a good tie, but
+perhaps not quite the thing.  Nothing seemed to go properly with his
+blue suit--the brown was dull and uninteresting--it lacked character;
+any one might have worn it, and he flung it back almost scornfully into
+the box.  The black was really best, but how dismal!  He seemed to see
+all his miserable loneliness and disappointment in its dark, sombre
+colour.  No, that would never do!  He must be bright, amusing,
+cheerful--anything but dull and dismal.  So he put on the green again,
+and went down to the drawing-room.  Randal was a young man of
+twenty-four--dark, tall, and slight, with a rather weary look in the
+eyes, as of one who had discovered the hollow mockery of the world and
+wondered at the pleasures of simple people.  He was perfectly dressed,
+and had arrived, after much thought and a University education, at that
+excellent result when everything is right, as it were, by accident--as
+though no thought had been taken at all.  As soon as a man appears to
+have laboured for effect, then he is badly dressed.  Randal was
+good-looking.  He had very dark eyes and thin, rather curling lips, and
+hair brushed straight back from his forehead.
+
+The room was in twilight.  It was Clare's morning-room, chosen because
+it was cosy and favoured intimacy.  She was fond of Randal and liked to
+mother him; she also respected his opinions.  The windows looked over
+the sea and the blinds were not drawn.  The twilight, like a floating
+veil, hovered over sea and land; the last faint colours of the sunset,
+gold and rose and grey, trembled over the town.
+
+Harry was introduced.  Randal smiled, but his hand was limp; Harry felt
+a little ashamed of his own hearty grasp and wished that he had been
+less effusive.  Randal's suit was dark blue and he wore a black tie;
+Harry became suddenly conscious of his daring green and, taking his
+tea, went and sat in the window and watched the town.  The first white
+colours of the young moon, slipping from the rosy-grey cloud, touched
+faintly the towers of the ruined church on the moor; he fancied that he
+could just see the four stones shining darkly grey against the horizon,
+but it was difficult to tell in that mysterious half-light.  Robin was
+sitting under the lamp by the door.  The light caught his hair, but his
+face was in shadow.  Harry watched him eagerly, hungrily.  Oh! how he
+loved him, his son!
+
+Randal was discussing some people with whom he had been staying--a
+little languidly and without any very active interest.  "Rather a nice
+girl, though," he said.  "Only such a dreadful mother.  Young
+Page-Rellison would have had a shot, I do believe, if it hadn't been
+for the mother--wore a wig and talked Cockney, and fairly grabbed the
+shekels in bridge."
+
+"And what about the book?" Clare asked.
+
+"Oh! going on," said Randal.  "I showed Cressel a chapter the other
+day--you know the New Argus man; and he was very nice about it.  Of
+course, some of the older men won't like it, you know.  It fairly goes
+for their methods, and I flatter myself hits them pretty hard once or
+twice.  You know, Miss Trojan, it's the young school you've got to look
+to nowadays; it's no use going back to those mid-Victorians--all very
+well for the schoolroom--cause and effect and all that kind of
+thing--but we must look ahead--be modern and you will be progressive,
+Miss Trojan."
+
+"That's just what I'm always saying, Mr. Randal," said Clare, smiling.
+"We're fighting a regular battle over it down here, but I think we will
+win the day."
+
+Randal turned to Harry.  "And you, sir," he said, "are with us, too?"
+
+Harry laughed.  He knew that Robin was looking at him.  "I have been
+away," he said, "and perhaps I have been a little surprised at the
+strides that things have made.  Twenty years is a long time, and I was
+romantic and perhaps foolish enough to expect that Pendragon would be
+very much the same when I came back.  It has changed greatly, and I am
+a little disappointed."
+
+Clare looked up.  "My brother has lost touch a little, Mr. Randal," she
+said, "and I don't think quite sees what is good for the place--indeed,
+necessary.  At any rate, he scarcely thinks with us."
+
+"With _us_."  There was emphasis on the word.  That meant Robin too.
+Randal glanced at him for a moment and then he turned to Robin--father
+and son!  A swift drawing of contrasts, perhaps with an inevitable
+conclusion in favour of his own kind.  It was suddenly as though the
+elder man was shut out of the conversation; they had, in a moment,
+forgotten his very presence.  He sat in the dusk by the window, his
+head in his hands, and terrible loneliness at his heart; it hurt as he
+had never known before that anything could hurt.  He had never known
+that he was sensitive; in Auckland it had not been so.  He had never
+felt things then, and had a little despised people that had minded.
+But there had been ever, in the back of his mind, the thought of those
+days that were coming when, with his son at his side, he could face all
+things.  Well, now he had his son--there, with him in the room.  The
+irony of it made him clench his hands, there in the dark, whilst they
+talked in the lighted room behind him.
+
+"Oh!  King's is going to pot," Randal was saying.  "I was down in the
+Mays and they were actually running with the boats--they seemed quite
+keen on going up.  The decent men seem to have all gone."
+
+Robin was paying very little attention.  He was looking worried, and
+Clare watched him a little anxiously.  "I hope you will be able to stay
+with us some days, Mr. Randal," she said.  "There are several new
+people in Pendragon whom I should like you to meet."
+
+Randal was charmed.  He would love to stop, but he must get back to
+London almost immediately.  He was going over to Germany next week and
+there were many arrangements to be made.
+
+"Germany!"  It was Robin who spoke, but the voice was not his usual
+one.  It was alive, vibrating, startling.  "Germany!  By Jove!
+Randal--are you really going?"
+
+"Why, of course," a little wearily; "I have been before, you know.
+Rather a bore, but the Rainers--you remember them, Miss Trojan--are
+going over to the Beethoven Festival at Bonn and are keen on my going
+with them.  I wasn't especially anxious, but one must do these things,
+you know."
+
+"Robin was there a year ago--Germany, I mean--and loved it.  Didn't
+you, Robin?"
+
+"Germany?  It was Paradise, Heaven--what you will.  Ruegen, the Harz,
+Heidelberg, Worms----"  He stopped and his voice broke.  "I'm a little
+absurd about it still," he said, as though in apology for such
+unnecessary enthusiasm.
+
+"Oh! you're young, Robin," said Randal, laughing.  "When you've seen as
+much as I have you'll be blase.  Not that one ought to be, but
+Germany--well, it hardly lasts, I think.  Ruegen--why, it rained and
+there were mists round the Studenkammer, and how those people eat at
+the Jagdschloss!  Heidelberg! picture postcards and shocking
+hotels--Oh!  No, Robin, you'll see all that later.  I wish you were
+going instead of me, though."
+
+Harry had looked up at the sound of Robin's voice.  It had been a new
+note.  There had been an eagerness, an enthusiasm, that meant life and
+something genuine.
+
+Hope that had been slowly dying revived again.  If Robin really cared
+for Germany like that, then they had something in common.  With that
+spark a fire might be kindled.  A red-gold haze as of fire burnt in the
+night sky, over the town.  Stars danced overhead, a little wind,
+beating fitfully at the window, seemed to carry the light of the moon
+in its tempestuous track, blowing it lightly in silver mists and clouds
+over the moor.  The Wise Men were there, strong and dark and sombre,
+watching over the lighted town and listening patiently to the ripple
+and murmur and life of the sea at their feet.  In the little inn at the
+Cove men were sitting over the roaring fire, telling tales--strange,
+weird stories of a life that these others did not know.  Harry had
+heard them when he was a boy--those stories--and he had felt the spell
+and the magic.  There had been life in them and romance.
+
+Perhaps they were there again to-night, just as they had been twenty
+years before.  The stars called to him, the lighted town, the dusky,
+softly breathing sea, the loneliness of the moor.  He must get out and
+away.  He must have sympathy and warmth and friendship; he had come
+back to his own people with open arms and they had no place for him.
+His own son had repulsed him.  But Cornwall, the country of his dreams,
+the mother of his faith, the guardian of his honour, was there--the
+same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.  He would search for her and
+would find her--even though it were on the red-brick floor of the
+tavern in the Cove.
+
+He turned round and found that the room was empty.  They had forgotten
+him and left him--without a word.  The light of the lamp caught the
+silver of the tea-things, and flashed and sparkled like a flame.
+
+Harry Trojan softly opened the door, passed into the dim twilight of
+the hall, picked up his hat, and stepped into the garden.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+As he felt the crunch of the gravel beneath his feet he was possessed
+with the spirit of adventure.  The dark house behind him had been
+holding him captive.  It had held him against his will, imprisoning
+him, tormenting him, and the tortures that he had endured were many and
+severe.  He had not known that he could have felt it so much--that
+absolute rejection of him by everything in which he had trusted; but he
+would mind these things no longer--he would even try not to mind Robin!
+That would be hard, and as he thought of it even now for a moment tears
+had filled his eyes.  That, however, was cowardice.  He must fling away
+the hopes of twenty years and start afresh, with the knowledge won of
+his experience and the strength that he had snatched from his wounds.
+
+And after all a man was a fool to mope and whine when that wind from
+the sea was beating in his ears and the sea scents of clover and
+poppies and salt stinging foam were brought to his nostrils, and the
+trees rustled like the beating of birds' wings in the velvety
+star-lighted sky.
+
+A garden was wonderful at night--a place of strange silences and yet
+stranger sound: trees darkly guarding mysterious paths that ran into
+caverns of darkness; the scents of flowers rising from damp earth heavy
+with dew; flowers that were weary with the dust and noise of the day
+and slept gently, gratefully, with their heads drooping to the soil,
+their petals closed by the tender hands of the spirits of the garden.
+The night-sounds were strangely musical.  Cries that were discordant in
+the day mingled now with the running of distant water, the last notes
+of some bird before it slept, the measured harmony of a far-away bell,
+the gentle rustle of some arrival in the thickets; the voice that could
+not be heard in the noisy chatter of the day rose softly now in a
+little song of the night and the dark trees and the silver firelight of
+the stars.
+
+And it was all very romantic, of course.  Harry Trojan had flung his
+cares behind him and stepped over the soft turf of the lawns, a free
+adventurer.  It was not really very late, and there was an hour before
+dinner; but he was not sure that he minded about that--they would be
+glad to dine without him.  There crossed his mind the memory of a night
+in New Zealand.  He had been walking down to the harbour in Auckland,
+and the moon had shone in the crooked water-side streets, its white,
+cold light crossed with dark black shadows of roofs and gables.
+Suddenly a woman's voice called for help across the silence, and he had
+turned and listened.  It had called again, and, thinking that he might
+help some one in distress, he had burst a dark, silent door, stumbled
+up crooked wooden stairs, and entered an empty room.  As he passed the
+door there was a sound of skirts, and a door at the other end of the
+room had closed.  There was no one there, only a candle guttering on
+the table, the remains of a meal, a woman's hat on the back of a chair;
+he had waited for some time in silence, he had called and asked if
+there was any one there, he had tried the farther door and found it
+shut--and so, cursing himself for a fool, he had passed down into the
+street again and the episode had ended.  There was really nothing in
+it--nothing at all; but it was the atmosphere, the atmosphere of
+romantic adventure shot suddenly across a rather drab and colourless
+existence, and he had liked to dwell on the possibilities of the affair
+and ask himself about it.  Who was the woman, and why had she cried
+out?  Why was there no one in the room?  And why had no one answered
+him?
+
+He did not know and really he did not care, and, indeed, it was better
+that the affair should be left in vague and incomplete outline.  It was
+probably commonplace enough, had one only known, and sordid too,
+perhaps.  But to-night was just such a night as that other.  He would
+go to the Cove and find his romance where he had left it twenty years
+ago.  It was the hour in Pendragon when shops are closing and young men
+and maidens walk out.  There were a great many people in the street;
+girls with white, tired faces, young men with bright ties and a
+self-assertive air--a type of person new to Pendragon since Harry's
+day.  The young man who served you respectfully, almost timidly, behind
+the counter was now self-assertive, taking the middle of the street
+with a flourish of his cane.  Fragments of conversation came to Harry's
+ears--
+
+"Mother being out I thought as 'ow I might venture--not but what she'd
+kick up a rare old fuss----"
+
+"So I told 'er it weren't no business of 'ers and the sooner she caught
+on to the idea the better for all parties, seein' as 'ow----"
+
+"Well, I never did! and you told 'im that, did yer?  I always said
+you'd some pluck if you really wanted to----"
+
+A gramophone from an open window up the street shrieked the alluring
+refrain of "She's a different girl again," and a man who had
+established himself at the corner under the protecting glare of two
+hissing gas-jets urged on the company present an immediate acceptance
+of his stupendous offer.  "Gold watches for 'alf a crown--positively
+for one evening in order to clear--all above board.  Solid gold and
+cheap at a sovereign."
+
+The plunge into the cool depths of the winding little path that led
+down to the Cove was delicious.  Oh! the contrast of it!  The noise and
+ugly self-assertion of the town, flinging its gas-jets against the moon
+and covering the roll of the sea with the shriek of the gramophone.  He
+crossed through the turnstile at the bend of the road and passed up the
+hill that led to the Cove.  At a bend the view of the sea came to him,
+the white moonlight lying, a path of dancing shining silver, on the
+grey sweep of the sea.  A wind was blowing, turning the grey into
+sudden points of white--like ghostly hands rising for a moment suddenly
+from immensity and then sinking silently again, their prayers
+unanswered.
+
+As he passed up the hill he was aware of something pattering beside
+him; at first it was a little uncanny in that dim, uncertain light, and
+he stopped and bent down to the road.  It was a dog, a fox-terrier of a
+kind, dirty, and even in that light most obviously a mongrel.  But it
+jumped up at him and put its paws on his knee.
+
+"Well, company's company," he said with a laugh.  "I don't know where
+you've sprung from, but we'll travel together for a bit."  The dog ran
+up the hill, and for a moment stood out against the moon--a shaggy,
+disreputable dog with a humorous stump of a tail.  He stood there with
+one ear flapping back and the other cocked up--a most ridiculous figure.
+
+Harry laughed again and the dog barked; they walked down the hill
+together.
+
+The Cove was dark, but from behind shuttered windows lamps twinkled
+mysteriously, and the red glow from the inn flung a circle of light
+down the little cobbled street.  The beat of the sea came solemnly like
+the tramp of invisible armies from the distance.  There was no other
+sound save the tremble of the wind in the trees.
+
+Harry pushed open the door of the inn and entered, followed by the dog.
+The place was the same; nothing had been changed.  There was the old
+wooden gallery where the fiddle had played such merry tunes.  The rough
+uneven floor had the same holes, the same hills and dales.  The great
+settle by the fire was marked, as in former years, with mysterious
+crosses and initials cut by jack-knives in olden days.  The two lamps
+shone in their accustomed places--one over the fire, another by the
+window.  The door leading to the bar was half open, and in the distance
+voices could be heard, but the room itself seemed to be empty.
+
+A great fire leapt in the fireplace and the gold light of it danced on
+the red-brick floor.  The peculiar scent as of tobacco and ale and the
+salt of the sea, and, faintly, the breath of mignonette and geraniums,
+struck out the long intervals since Harry had been there before.
+Twenty years ago he had breathed the same air; and now he was back
+there again and nothing was changed.  The dog had run to the fire and
+sat in front of it now, wagging his stump of a tail, his ear cocked.
+Harry laughed and sat down in the settle; the burden of the last week
+was flung off and he was a free man.
+
+A long, lean man with a straggling beard stood in the doorway and
+watched him; then he came forward.  "Mr. Harry," he said, and held out
+his hand.
+
+Harry started up.  "I'm sorry," he said, stammering, "I don't remember."
+
+"We were wonderin'," said the long, thin man slowly, "when you was
+comin' down.  Not that you'd remember faces--that's not to be
+expected--especially in foreign parts which is confusing and difficult
+for a man--but I'm Bill Tregarvis what have had you out fishin' many's
+the time--not that you'd remember faces," he said again, looking a
+little timidly at him.
+
+But he did!  Harry remembered him perfectly!  Bill Tregarvis!  Why, of
+course--many was the time they had seen life together--he had had a
+wife and two boys.
+
+Harry wrung his hand and laughed.
+
+"Remember, Bill!  Why, of course!  It was only for a moment.  I had got
+the face all right but not the name.  Yes, I have, as a matter of fact,
+come before, but there were things that have made it difficult at
+first, and of course there was a lot to do up there.  But it's good to
+be down here!  The other place is changed; I had been a bit
+disappointed, but here it is just the same--the same old lights and
+smells and sea, and the same old friends----"
+
+"Yer think that?" Tregarvis looked at him.  "Because we'd been fearing
+that all your travelling and sight-seeing might have harmed you--that
+you'd be thinking a bit like the folk up-along with their cars and gas
+and filth.  Aye, it's a changed world up there, Mr. Harry; but
+down-along there's no difference.  It's the sea keeps us steady."
+
+And then they talked about the old adventurous days when Harry had been
+eighteen and the world had been a very wonderful place: the herring
+fishing, the bathing, the adventures on the moor, the tales at night by
+candlelight, the fun of it all.  The room began to fill, and one after
+another men came forward and claimed friendship on the score of old
+days and perils shared.  They received him quite simply--he was "Mr.
+Harry," but still one of themselves, taking his place with them,
+telling tales and hearing them in return.
+
+There were nine or ten of them, and a wild company they made, crowding
+round the fire, with the flames leaping and flinging gigantic shadows
+on the walls.  The landlord, a short, ruddy-faced man with white hair
+and a merry twinkle of the eye, was one of the best men that Harry had
+ever known.
+
+He was a man whose modesty was only equalled by his charity; a man of
+great humour, wide knowledge of the most varied subjects, and above all
+a passionate faith in the country of his birth, Cornwall.  He was, like
+most Cornishmen, superstitious, but his belief in Nature as a wise and
+beneficent mother, stern but never unjust, controlled his will and
+justified his actions.  In those early days Harry had worshipped him
+with that whole-hearted adoration bestowed at times by young
+hero-worshippers on those that have travelled a little way along the
+path and have learnt their lesson wisely.  Tony Newsome's influence had
+done more for Harry in those early years than he had realised, but he
+knew now what he owed to him as he sat by his side and recalled those
+other days.  They had written once or twice, but Tony was no
+correspondent and hated to have a pen between his fingers.
+
+"Drive a horse, pull a boat, shoot a gun, mind a net--but God help me
+if I write," he had said.  Not that he objected to books; he had read a
+good deal and cared for it--but "God's air in the day and a merry fire
+at night leaves little room for pen and ink" was his justification.
+
+He treated Harry now as his boy of twenty years ago, and laughed at him
+and scolded him as of old.  He did not question him very closely on the
+incidents of those twenty years, and indeed, with them all, Harry
+noticed that there was very little curiosity as to those other
+countries.  They welcomed him quietly, simply.  They were glad that he
+was there again, sitting with them, taking his place naturally and
+easily--and again the twenty years seemed as nothing.
+
+He sat with the dog at his feet.  Newsome's hand was on his knee, and
+every once and again he gave a smothered chuckle.  "I knew you'd come
+back, Mr. Harry," he said.  "I just waited.  Once the sea has got hold
+of you it doesn't loosen its grip so quick.  I knew you'd come back."
+
+They told wild stories as they had been telling them for many years at
+the same hour in the same place--strange things seen at sea, the lights
+and mists of the moor, survivals of smuggling days and fights on the
+beach under the moon; and it always was the sea.  They might leave it
+for a moment perhaps, but they came back to it--the terror of it, the
+joy of it, the cruelty of it; the mistress that held them chained, that
+called their children and would not be denied, the god that they served.
+
+They spoke of her softly with lowered voices and a strange reverence.
+They had learnt her moods and her dangers; they knew that she could
+caress them, and then, of a sudden, strike them down--but they loved
+her.
+
+And she had claimed Harry again.  Everything for which he had been
+longing during that past week had come to him at last; their
+friendship, their faith in an old god, and above all that sense of a
+great adventure, for the spirit of which he had so diligently been
+searching.  "Up-along" life was an affair of measured rules and things
+foreseen.  "Down-along" it was a game of unending surprises and a
+gossamer web shot with the golden light of romance.  High-falutin
+perhaps, but to Harry, as he sat before the fire with the strange dog
+and those ten wild men, words and pictures came too speedily to admit
+of a sense of the absurd.
+
+An old man, with a long white beard and a shaking hand, knew strange
+tales of the moor.  When the mists creep up and blot out the land, then
+the four grey stones take life and are the giants of old, and strange
+sacrifices are grimly performed.  Talse Carlyon had seen things late on
+a moonlit night with the mists swimming white and silvery-grey over the
+moor.  He had lost his way and had met a man of mighty size who had led
+him by the hand.  There had been spirits about, and at the foot of the
+grey stone a pool of blood--he had never been the same man since.
+
+"There are spirits and spirits," said the old man solemnly, "and there
+'m some good and some bad, for the proper edification of us mortals,
+and, for my part, it's not for the like of us to meddle."
+
+He stroked his beard--a very gloomy old man with a blind eye.  Harry
+remembered that he had had a wife twenty years before, so he inquired
+about her.
+
+"Dead," said the old man fiercely, "dead--and, thank God, she went out
+like a candle."
+
+He muttered this so fiercely that Harry said no more, and the white
+beard shone in the light of the fire, and his blind eye opened and shut
+like a box, and his wrinkled hand shook on his knee.  The fishing had
+been bad of late, and here again they spoke as if some personal power
+had been at work.  There were few there who had not lost some one
+during the years that they had served her, and the memory of what this
+had been and the foreshadowing of the dangerous future hung over them
+in the room.  Songs were sung, jokes were made, but they were the songs
+and laughter of men on guard, with the enemy to be encountered,
+perhaps, in the morning.
+
+Harry sat in his corner of the great seat, watching the leaping of the
+flames, his hand on Newsome's shoulder, listening to the murmuring
+voices at his side.  He scarcely knew whether he were awake or
+sleeping; their laughter came to him dimly, and it seemed that he was
+alone there with only Newsome by his side and the dog sleeping at his
+feet.  The tobacco smoke hung in grey-blue wreaths above his head and
+the gold light of the two lamps shone mistily, without shape or form.
+Perhaps it was really a dream.  The old man with the white beard and
+the blind eye was sleeping, his head on his breast.  A man with a
+vacant expression was telling a tale, heavily, slowly, gazing at the
+fire.  The others were not listening--or at any rate not obviously so.
+They, too, gazed at the fire--it had, as it were, become personal and
+mesmerised the room.  Perhaps it was a dream.  He would wake and find
+himself at "The Flutes."  There would be Clare and Garrett and--Robin!
+He would put all that away now; he would forget it for a moment, at
+least.  He had failed them; they had not wanted him and had told him
+so,--but here they had known him and loved him; they had welcomed him
+back as though there had been no intervening space of years.  They at
+least had known what life was.  They had not played with it, like those
+others.  They had not surrounded themselves with barricades of
+artificiality, and glanced through distorting mirrors at their own
+exaggerated reflection; they had seen life simply, fearlessly,
+accepting their peril like men and enjoying their fate with the
+greatness of soul that simplicity had given them.  They were not like
+those others; those on the hill had invaded the sea with noisy clamour,
+had greeted her familiarly and offered her bathing-machines and
+boarding-houses; these others had reverenced her and learnt to know
+her, alone on the downs in the first grey of the dawn, or secretly,
+when the breakers had rolled in over the sand, carrying with them the
+red and gold of some gorgeous sunset.
+
+He contrasted them in his mind--the Trojans and the Greeks.  He turned
+round a little in his seat and listened to the story: "It were a man--a
+strange man with horns and hoofs, so he said--and a merry, deceiving
+eye; but he couldn't see him clear because of the mist that hung there,
+with the moon pushing through like a candle, he said.  The man was
+laughing to himself and playing with leaves that danced at his feet
+under the wind.  It can't have been far from the town, because Joe
+heard St. Elmo's bell ringin' and he could hear the sea quite plain.
+He ..."
+
+The voice seemed to trail off again into the distance; Harry's thoughts
+were with his future.  What was he to do?  It seemed to him that his
+crisis had come and was now facing him.  Should he stay or should he
+flee?  Why should he not escape--away into the country, where he could
+live his life without fear, where there would be no contempt, no
+hampering family traditions?  Should he stay and wait while Robin
+learnt to hate him?  At the thought his face grew white and he clenched
+his hands.  Robin ... Robin ... Robin ... it always came back to
+that--and there seemed no answer.  That dream of love between father
+and son, the dream that he had cherished for twenty years, was
+shattered, and the bubble had burst....
+
+"So Joe said he didn't know but he thought it was to the left and down
+through the Cove--to the old church he meant; and the man laughed and
+danced with the leaves through the mist; and once Joe thought he was
+gone, and there he was back again, laughin'."
+
+No, he would face it.  He would take his place as he had intended--he
+would show them of what stuff he was made--and Robin would see, at
+last.  The boy was young, it would of course take time----
+
+The door of the inn opened and some one came in.  The lamps flared in
+the wind, and there was a cry from the fireplace.  "Mr. Bethel!  Well,
+I'm right glad!"
+
+Harry started.  Bethel--that had been the name of his friend--the girl
+who had come to tea.  The new-comer was a large man, over six feet in
+height, and correspondingly broad.  His head was bare, and his hair was
+a little long and curly.  His eyes were blue and twinkled, and his face
+was pleasantly humorous and, in the mouth and chin, strong and
+determined.  He wore a grey flannel suit with a flannel collar, and he
+was smoking a pipe of great size.  Newsome, starting to his feet, went
+forward to meet him.  Bethel came to the fire and talked to them all;
+there was obviously a free companionship between them that told of long
+acquaintance.  He was introduced to Harry.
+
+"I've heard of you, Mr. Trojan," he said, "and have been expecting to
+meet you.  I think that we have interests in common--at least an
+affection for Cornwall."
+
+Harry liked him.  He looked at him frankly between the eyes--there was
+no hesitation or disguise; there had been no barrier or division; and
+Harry was grateful.
+
+Bethel sat down by the fire, and a discussion followed about matters of
+which Harry knew nothing.  There was talk of the fishing prospects,
+which were bad; a gloom fell upon them all, and they cursed the new
+Pendragon--the race had grown too fast for them and competition was too
+keen.  But Harry noticed that they did not yet seem to have heard of
+the proposed destruction of the Cove.  Then he got up to go.  They
+asked him to come again, and he promised that he would.  Bethel rose
+too.
+
+"If you don't object, Mr. Trojan," he said, "I'll make one with you.  I
+had only looked in for a moment and had never intended to stay.  I was
+on my way back to the town."
+
+They went out into the street together, and Harry shivered for a moment
+as the wind from the sea met them.
+
+"Ah, that's good," Bethel said; "your fires are well enough, but that
+wind is worth a bag of gold."
+
+They walked for a little in silence, and then Harry said: "Those are a
+fine lot of men.  They know what life really is."
+
+Bethel laughed.  "I know what you feel about them.  You are glad that
+there's no change.  Twenty years has made little difference there.  It
+is twenty years, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes," said Harry.  "One thinks that it is nothing until one comes
+back, and then one thinks that it's more than it really is."
+
+"Yes, you're disappointed," Bethel said.  "I know.  Pendragon has
+become popular, and to your mind that has destroyed its beauty--or, at
+any rate, some of it."
+
+"Well, I hate it," Harry said fiercely, "all this noise and show.  Why
+couldn't they have left Pendragon alone?  I don't hate it for big
+places that are, as it were, in the line of march.  I suppose that they
+must move with the day.  That is inevitable.  But Pendragon!  Why--when
+I was a boy, it was simply a little town by the sea.  No one thought
+about it or worried about it: it was a place wonderfully quiet and
+simple.  It was too quiet for me then; I should worship it now.  But I
+have come back and it has no room for me."
+
+"I haven't known it as long as you," Bethel answered, "but I confess
+that the very charm of it lies in its contrast.  It is invasion, if you
+like, but for that very reason exciting--two forces at work and a
+battle in progress."
+
+"With no doubt as to the ultimate victory," said Harry gloomily.  "Yes,
+I see what you mean by the contrast.  But I cannot stand there and see
+them dispassionately--you see I am bound up with so much of it.  Those
+men to-night were my friends when I was a boy.  Newsome is the best man
+that I have ever known, and there is the place; I love every stone of
+it, and they would pull it down."
+
+They had left the Cove and were pressing up a steep path to the moor.
+The moon was struggling through a bank of clouds; the wind was
+whistling over their heads.
+
+Bethel suddenly stopped and turned towards Harry.  "Mr. Trojan," he
+said, "I'm going to be impulsive and perhaps imprudent.  There's
+nothing an Englishman fears so much as impulse, and he is terribly
+ashamed of imprudence.  But, after all, there is no time to waste, and
+if you think me impertinent you have only to say so, and the matter
+ends."
+
+Harry laughed.  "I am delighted," he began, but the other stopped him.
+
+"No, wait a moment.  You don't know.  I'm afraid you'll think that I'm
+absurd--most people will tell you that I am worse.  I want you to try
+to be a friend of mine, at any rate to give me a chance.  I scarcely
+know you--you don't know me at all--but; one goes on first impressions,
+and I believe that you would understand a little better than most of
+these people here--for one thing you have gone farther and seen
+more----"
+
+There was a little pause.  Harry was surprised.  Here was what he had
+been wanting--friendship; a week ago he would have seized it with both
+hands; now he was a little distrustful; a week ago it would have been
+natural, delightful; now it was unusual, even a little absurd.
+
+"I should be very glad," he said gravely.  "I--scarcely----"
+
+"Oh," Bethel broke in, "we shall come together naturally--there's no
+fear of that.  I could see at once that you know the mysteries of this
+place just as I do.  Those others here are blind.  I've been waiting
+for some one who would understand.  But I don't want you to listen to
+those other people about me; they will tell you a good deal--and most
+of it's true.  I don't blame 'em, but I'm curiously anxious for you not
+to think with them.  It's ridiculous, I know, when I had never seen you
+before.  If you only knew how long I'd been waiting--to talk to some
+one--about--all this."
+
+He waved his hand and they stopped.  They were standing on the moor.
+Above their head mighty grey clouds were driving like fleets before the
+wind, and the moon, a cold, lifeless thing, a moon of chiselled marble,
+appeared, and then, as though frightened at the wild flight of the
+clouds, vanished.  The sea, pearl grey, lay like mist on the horizon,
+and its voice was gentle and tired, as though it were slowly dying into
+sleep.  They were near the Four Stones--gaunt, grey, and old.  The dog
+had followed Harry from the inn and now ran, a white shadow, in front
+of him.
+
+"Let me tell you," Bethel said, "about myself.  You know I was born in
+London--the son of a doctor with a very considerable practice.  I
+received an excellent education, Rugby and Cambridge, and was trained
+for the law.  I was, I believe, a rather ordinary person with a rather
+more than ordinary power of concentration, and I got on.  I built up a
+business and was extremely and very conventionally happy.  I married
+and we had a little girl.  And then, one summer, we came down to
+Cornwall for our holiday.  It was St. Ives.  I remember that first
+morning as though it were yesterday.  It was grey with the sea flinging
+great breakers.  There was a smell of clover and cornflowers in the
+air, and great sheets of flaming poppies in the cornfields.  But there
+was more than that.  It was Cornwall, something magical, and that
+strange sense of old history and customs that you get nowhere else in
+quite the same way.  Ah! but why analyse it?--you know as well as I do
+what I mean.  A new man was born in me that day.  I had been sociable
+and fond of little quite ordinary pleasures that came my way, now I
+wanted to be alone.  Their conversation worried me; it seemed to be
+pointless and concerned with things that did not matter at all.  I had
+done things like other men--now it was all to no purpose.  I used to
+lie for hours on the cliffs watching the sea.  I was often out all day,
+and I met all sorts of people, tramps, wasters, vagabonds, and they
+seemed the only people worth talking to.  I met some strange fellows
+but excellent company--and they knew, all of them, the things that I
+knew; they had been out all night and seen the moon and the stars
+change and the first light of the dawn, and the little breeze that
+comes in those early hours from the sea, bringing the winds of other
+countries with it.  And they were merry, they had a philosophy--they
+knew Cornwall and believed in her.
+
+"Well--the holiday came to an end, and I had to go back!  London.  My
+God!  After that I struggled--I went to my work every day with the
+sound of that sea in my ears and the vision of those moors always there
+with me.  And the freedom!  If you have tasted that once, if you have
+ever got really close so that you can hear strange voices and see
+beauties of which you had never dreamt, well, you will never get back
+to your old routine again.  I don't care how strong you are--you can't
+do it, man.  Once she's got hold of you, nothing counts.  That was
+eighteen years ago.  I kept my work for a year, but it was killing me.
+I got ill--I nearly died; once I ran away at night and tried to get to
+the sea.  But I came back--there were my wife and girl.  We had a
+little money, and I gave it all up and we came to live down here.  I
+have done nothing since; rather shameful, isn't it, for a strong man?
+They have thought that here; they think that I am a waster--by their
+lights I am.  But the things I have learnt!  I didn't know what living
+was until I came here!  I knew nothing, I did nothing, I was a dead
+man.  What do I care for their thoughts of me!  They are in the dark!"
+
+He had spoken eagerly, almost breathlessly.  He was defending his
+position, and Harry knew that he had been waiting for years to say
+these things to some one of his own kind who would understand.  And he
+understood only too well!  Had he not himself that very evening been
+tempted to escape, to flee his duty?  He had resisted, but the
+temptation had been very strong--that very voice of Cornwall of which
+Bethel had spoken--and if it were to return he did not know what answer
+he might give.  But he was not thinking of Bethel; his thoughts were
+with the wife and daughter.  That poor pathetic little woman--and the
+girl----
+
+"And your wife and daughter?" he said.  "What of them?"
+
+"They are happy," Bethel said eagerly.  "They are indeed.  I don't see
+them very often, but they have their own interests--and friends.  My
+wife and I never had very much in common--Ah! you're going to scold,"
+he said, laughing, "and say just what all these other horrid people
+say.  But I know.  I grant it you all.  I'm a waster--through and
+through; it's damnably selfish--worst of all, in this energetic and
+pushing age, it's idle.  Oh!  I know and I'm sorry--but, do you know,
+I'm not ashamed.  I can't see it seriously.  I wouldn't harm a fly.
+Why can't they let me alone?  At least I am happy."
+
+They had reached the outskirts of the town by this time and Bethel
+stopped before a little dark house with red shutters and a tiny strip
+of garden.
+
+"Here we are!" said he.  "This is my place.  Come in and smoke!  It
+must be past your dinner hour up at 'The Flutes.'  Come and have
+something with me."
+
+Harry laughed.  "They have already ceased wondering at my erratic
+habits," he said.  "New Zealand is a bad place for method."
+
+He followed Bethel in.  It was a tiny hall, and on entering he stumbled
+over an umbrella-stand that lounged forward in a rickety position.
+Bethel apologised.  "We're in a bit of a mess," he said.  "In fact, to
+tell the truth, we always are!"  He hung his coat in the hall and led
+the way into the dining-room.  Mrs. Bethel and her daughter came
+forward.  The little woman was amazing in a dress of bright red silk
+and an absurd little yellow lace cap.  Only half the table was laid;
+for the rest a shabby green cloth, spotted with ink, formed a
+background for an incoherent litter of papers and needlework.  The
+walls were lined with books and there were some piled on the floor.
+
+A cold shoulder of mutton, baked potatoes in their skins, a melancholy
+glass dish containing celery, and a salad bowl startlingly empty, lay
+waiting on the table.
+
+"Anne," said Bethel, "I've brought a guest--up with the family port and
+let's be festive."
+
+His great body seemed to fill the room, and he brought with him the
+breath of the sea and the wind.  He began to carve the mutton like
+Siegfried making battle with Fafner, and indeed again and again during
+the evening he reminded Harry of Siegfried's impetuous humour and
+rejoicing animal spirits.
+
+Mrs. Bethel was delighted.  Her little eyes twinkled with excitement,
+her yellow cap was pushed awry, and her hands trembled with pleasure.
+It was obvious that a visitor was an unusual event.  Miss Bethel had
+said very little, but she had given Harry that same smile that he had
+seen before.  She busied herself now with the salad, and he watched her
+white fingers shine under the lamplight and the white curve of her neck
+as she bent over the bowl.  She was dressed in some dark stuff--quite
+simple and unassuming, but he thought that he had never seen anything
+so beautiful.
+
+He said very little, but he was quietly happy.  Bethel did not talk
+very much; he was eating furiously--not greedily, but with great
+pleasure and satisfaction.  Mrs. Bethel talked continuously.  Her eyes
+shone and her cap bobbed on her head like a live thing.
+
+"I said, Mr. Trojan, after our meeting the other day, that you would be
+a friend.  I said so to Mary coming back.  I felt sure that first day.
+It is so nice to have some one new in Pendragon--one gets used, you
+know, to the same faces and tired of them.  In my old home, Penlicott
+in Surrey, near Marlwood Beeches--you change at Grayling Junction--or
+you used to; I think you go straight through now.  But _there_ you know
+we knew everybody.  You really couldn't help it.  There was really only
+the Vicar and the Doctor, and he was so old.  Of course there were the
+Draytons; you must have heard of Mr. Herbert Drayton--he paints
+things--I forget quite what, but I know he's good.  They all lived
+there--such a lot of them and most peculiar in their habits; but one
+gets used to anything.  They all lived together for some time, about
+fifteen there were.  Mother and I dined there once or twice, and they
+had the funniest dining-room with pictures of Job all round the room
+that were most queer and rather disagreeable; and they all liked
+different things to drink, so they each had a bottle--of
+something--separately.  It looked quite funny to see the fifteen
+bottles, and then 'Job' on the wall, you know."
+
+But he really hadn't paid very much attention to her.  He had been
+thinking and wondering.  How was it that a man like Bethel had married
+such a wife?  He supposed that things had been different twenty years
+ago, with them as with him.  It was strange to think of the difference
+that twenty years could make.  She had been, perhaps, a little pretty,
+dainty thing then--the style of girl that a strong man like Bethel
+would fall in love with.  Then he thought of Miss Bethel--what was her
+life with a mother like that and a father who never thought about her
+at all?  She must, he thought, be lonely.  He almost hoped that she
+was.  It gave them kinship, because he was lonely too.  The
+conversation was not very animated; Mrs. Bethel was suddenly
+silent--she seemed to have collapsed with the effort, and sat huddled
+up in her chair, with her hands in her lap.
+
+He realised that he had said nothing to Miss Bethel, and he turned to
+her.  "You know London?" he said.  He wondered whether she longed for
+it sometimes--its excitement and life.
+
+"Oh yes," she said quickly; "we were there, you know, a long while ago,
+and I've been up once or twice since.  But it makes one feel so
+dreadfully small, as if one simply didn't count, and no woman likes
+that."
+
+"Pendragon makes one feel smaller," Harry said.  "When one is of no
+account even in a small place, then one is small indeed."
+
+He had not intended to speak bitterly, but she had caught the sound of
+it in his voice and she was suddenly sorry for him.  She had been a
+little afraid of him before--even on that terrible afternoon at "The
+Flutes"; but now she saw that he was disappointed--he had expected
+something and it had failed him.
+
+She said nothing then, and the meal came to an end.  Bethel dragged
+Harry into his study to see the books.  There was the same untidiness
+here.  The table was littered with papers and pens, tobacco jars,
+numerous pipes, some photographs.  From the floor to the ceiling were
+books--rows on rows--flung apparently into the shelves with no order or
+method.
+
+"I'm no good as far as books go," said Harry, laughing.  "There never
+was such a heathen.  There have always been other things to do, and I
+must confess it is a mystery to me how men get time to read at all.  If
+I do get time I'm generally done up, and a novel's the only thing I'm
+fit for."
+
+"Ah, then, you don't know the book craze," Bethel Said.  "It's worse
+than drink.  I've seen it absolutely ruin a man.  You can't stop--if
+you see a book you must get it, whether you really want it or no.  You
+go on buying and buying and buying.  You get far more than you can ever
+read.  But you're a miser and you hate even lending them.  You sit in
+your room and count the covers, and you're no fit company for man or
+beast."
+
+Harry looked at him--"You've known it?"
+
+"Oh yes!  I've known it.  I'm a bit better now--I'm out such a lot.
+But even now there's a great deal here that I've never read, and I add
+to it continually.  The worst of it is," he said, laughing, "that we
+can't afford it.  It's very hard on Mary and the wife, but I'm a rotten
+loafer, and that's the end of it."
+
+He said it so gaily and with so little sense of responsibility that you
+couldn't possibly think that it weighed on him.  But he looked such a
+boy, standing there with his hands in his pockets and that
+half-penitent, half-humorous look in his eyes, that you couldn't be
+angry.  Harry laughed.
+
+"Upon my word, you're amazing!"
+
+"Oh! you'll get sick of me.  It's all so selfish and slack, I know.
+But I struggled once--I'm in the grip now."  He talked about Borrow and
+displayed a little grey-bound "Walden" with pride.  He spoke of Richard
+Jefferies with an intimate affection as though he had known the man.
+
+He gave Harry some of his enthusiasm, and he lent him "Lavengro."  He
+described it and Harry compared mentally Isobel Berners with Mary
+Bethel.
+
+Then they went up to the little drawing-room--an ugly room, but
+redeemed by a great window overlooking the sea, and a large photograph
+of Mary on the mantelpiece.  Under the light of the lamp the silver
+frame glittered and sparkled.
+
+He sat by the window and talked to her, and again he had that same
+curious sense of having known her before: he spoke of it.
+
+"I expect it's in another existence then," she said; "as I've never
+been into New Zealand and you've never been out of it--at least, since
+I've been born.  But, of course, I've talked about you to Robin.  We
+speculated, you know.  We hadn't any photographs much to help us, and
+it was quite a good game."
+
+"Ah!  Robin!"
+
+"I want to speak to you about him," she said, turning round to him.
+"You won't think me interfering, will you? but I've meant to speak ever
+since the other day.  I was afraid that, perhaps--don't think it
+dreadfully rude of me--you hadn't quite understood Robin.  He's at a
+difficult age, you know, and there are a lot of things about him that
+are quite absurd.  And I have been afraid that you might take those
+absurdities for the real things and fancy that that was all that was
+there.  Cambridge--and other things--have made him think that a certain
+sort of attitude is essential if you're to get on.  I don't think he
+even sincerely believes in it.  But they have taught him that he must,
+at least, seem to believe.  The other things are there all right, but
+he hides them--he is almost ashamed of any one suspecting their
+existence."
+
+"Thank you!" Harry said quietly.  "It is very kind of you and I'm
+deeply grateful.  It's quite true that Robin and I haven't seemed to
+hit it off properly.  I expect that it is my fault.  I have tried to
+see his point of view and have the same interests, but every effort
+that I've made has seemed to make things worse.  He distrusts me, I
+think, and--well--of course, that hurts.  All the things in which I had
+hoped we would share have no interest for him."
+
+"Don't you think, perhaps," she said, "that you've been a little too
+anxious--perhaps, a little too affectionate?  I am speaking like this
+because I care for Robin so much.  We have been such good friends for
+years now, and I think he has let me see a side of him that he has
+hidden from most people.  He is curiously sensitive, and really, I
+think, very shy; and most of all, he has a perfect horror of being
+absurd.  That is what I meant about your being affectionate.  He would
+think, perhaps, that the rest were laughing at him.  It's as if you
+were dragging something that was very sacred and precious out into the
+light before all those others.  Boys are like that; they are terrified
+lest any one should know what good there is in them--it isn't quite
+good form."
+
+They were silent for some time.  Harry was throwing her words like a
+searchlight on the events of the past week, and they revealed much that
+had been very dark and confused.  But he was thinking of her.  Their
+acquaintance seemed to have grown into intimacy already.
+
+"I can't thank you enough," he said again.
+
+"It is so nice of you," she said laughing, "not to have thought it
+presumptuous of me.  But Robin is a very good friend of mine.  Of
+course you will find out what a sterling fellow he is--under all that
+superficiality.  He is one of my best friends here!"
+
+He got up to go.  As he held out his hand, he said: "I will tell you
+frankly, Miss Bethel, that Pendragon hasn't received me with open arms.
+I don't know why it should--and twenty years in New Zealand knocks the
+polish off.  But it has been delightful this evening--more than you
+know."
+
+"It has been nice for us too," Mary answered.  "I don't know that
+Pendragon is exactly thronging our door night and day--and a new friend
+is worth having.  You see I've claimed you as a friend because you
+listened so patiently to my sermon--that's a sure test."
+
+She had spoken lightly but he had felt the bitterness in her voice.
+Life was hard for her too, then?  He knew that he was glad.
+
+"I shall come back," he said.
+
+"Please," she answered.
+
+He said good-bye to Mrs. Bethel and she pressed his hand very warmly.
+"You are very kind to take pity on us," she said, ogling him under the
+gas in the hall; "I hope you will come often."
+
+Bethel said very little.  He walked with him to the gate and laughed.
+"We're absurd, aren't we, Trojan?" he said.  "But don't neglect us
+altogether.  Even absurdity is refreshing sometimes."
+
+But Harry went up the hill with a happier heart than he had had since
+he entered Pendragon.
+
+That promise of adventure had been fulfilled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+Randal was only at "The Flutes" two days, but he effected a good deal
+in that time.  He did nothing very active--called on Mrs. le Terry and
+rode over the Downs once with Robin--but he managed to leave a flock of
+very active impressions behind him.  That, as he knew well, was his
+strong point.  He could not be with you a day without vaguely, almost
+indistinctly, but nevertheless quite certainly, influencing your
+opinions.  He never said anything very definite, and, on looking back,
+you could never assert that he had positively taken any one point of
+view; but he had left, as it were, atmosphere--an assurance that this
+was the really right thing to do, this the proper attitude for correct
+breeding to adopt.  It was always, with him, a case of correct
+breeding, and that was why the Trojans liked him so very much.
+"Randal," as Clare said, "knew so precisely who were sheep and who were
+goats, and he showed you the difference so clearly."
+
+Whenever he came to stay some former acquaintances were dropped as
+being, perhaps, not quite the right people.  He never said that any one
+was not the right person, that would be bad breeding, but you realised,
+of your own accord, that they were not quite right.  That was why the
+impression was so strong--it seemed to come from yourself; your eyes
+were suddenly opened and you wondered that you hadn't seen it before.
+
+He said very little of Trojan people this time; the main result of his
+visit was its effect on Harry's position.
+
+Had you been a stranger you would have noticed nothing; the motto of
+the gentleman of good breeding is, "The end and aim of all true
+opinions is the concealing of them from the wrong person."
+
+Randal was exceedingly polite to Harry, so polite that Robin and Clare
+knew immediately that he disapproved, but Harry was pleased.  Randal
+spoke warmly to Robin.  "You are lucky to have such a father, Bob; it's
+what we all want, you and I especially, a little fresh air let into our
+Cambridge dust and confusion; it's most refreshing to find some one who
+cares nothing about all those things that have seemed to us, quite
+erroneously probably, so valuable.  You should copy him, Robin."
+
+But Robin made no reply.  He understood perfectly.  There had been some
+qualities in his father that he had, deep down in his nature, admired.
+He had seemed to be without doubt a man on whom one could rely in a
+tight corner, and in spite of himself he had liked his father's
+frankness.  It was unusual.  There was always another meaning in
+everything that Robin's friends said, but there was never any doubt
+about Harry.  He missed the fine shades, of course, and was lamentably
+lacking in discrimination, but you did know where you were.  Robin had,
+almost reluctantly, admired this before the coming of Randal.  But now
+there could be no question.  When Randal was there you had displayed
+before you the complete art of successful allusion.  Nothing was ever
+directly stated, but everything was hinted, and you were compelled to
+believe that this really was the perfection of good breeding.  Robin
+admired Randal exceedingly.  He took his dicta very seriously and
+accepted his criticism.  The judgment of his father completed the
+impression that he had begun to receive.  He was impossible.  Randal
+was going by the 10.45, and he would walk to the station.
+
+"A whiff of fresh air, Robin, is absolutely essential.  You must walk
+down with me.  I hate to go, Miss Trojan."
+
+"Very soon to return, I hope, Mr. Randal," answered Clare.  She liked
+him, and thought him an excellent influence for Robin.
+
+"Thank you--it's very kind--but one's busy, you know.  It's been hard
+enough to snatch these few days.  Besides, Robin isn't alone in the
+same way now.  He has his father."
+
+Clare made no reply, but her silence was eloquent.
+
+"I'm sorry for him, Miss Trojan," he said.  "He is, I'm afraid, a
+little out of it.  Twenty years, you know, is a long time."
+
+Clare smiled.  "He is unchanged," she said.  "What he was as a boy, he
+is now."
+
+"He is fortunate," Randal said gravely.  "For most of us experience has
+a jostling series of shocks ready.  Life hurts."
+
+He said good-bye with that air of courtly melancholy that Clare admired
+so much.  He shook Harry warmly by the hand and expressed a hope of
+another meeting.
+
+"I should be delighted," Harry said.  "What sort of time am I likely to
+catch you in town?"
+
+But Randal, alarmed at this serious acceptance of an entirely ironical
+proposal, was immediately vague and gave no definite promise.  Harry
+watched them pass down the drive, then he turned back slowly into the
+house.
+
+It was one of those blue and gold days that are only to be realised
+perfectly in Cornwall--blue of the sky and the sea, gold on the roofs
+and the rich background of red and brown in the autumn-tinted trees,
+whilst the deep green of the lawns in front of the house seemed to hold
+both blues and golds in its lights and shadows.  The air was perfectly
+still and the smoke from a distant bonfire hung in strange wreaths of
+grey-blue in the light against the trees, as though carved delicately
+in marble.
+
+Randal discussed his prospects.  He spoke, as he invariably did with
+regard to his past and future, airily and yet impressively: "I don't
+like to make myself too cheap," he said.  "There are things any sort of
+fellow can do, and I must say that I shrink from taking bread out of
+the mouths of some of them.  But of course there are things that one
+_must_ do--where special knowledge is wanted--not that I'm any good,
+you know, but I've had chances.  Besides, one must work slowly.
+Style's the thing--Flaubert and Pater for ever--the doctrine of the one
+word."
+
+Robin looked at him with admiration.
+
+"By Jove, Randal, I wish I could write; I sometimes feel quite--well,
+it sounds silly--but inspired, you know--as if one saw things quite
+differently.  It was very like that in Germany once or twice."
+
+"Ah, we're all like that at times," Randal spoke encouragingly.  "But
+don't you trust it--an _ignis fatuus_ if ever there was one.  That is
+why we have bank clerks at Peckham and governesses in Bloomsbury
+writing their reminiscences.  It's those moments of inspiration that
+are responsible for all our over-crowded literature."
+
+They had chosen the path over the fields to the station, and suddenly
+at the bend of the hill the sea sprang before them, a curving mirror
+that reflected the blue of the sky and was clouded mistily with the
+gold of the sun.  That sudden springing forward of the sea was always
+very wonderful, even when it had been seen again and again, and Robin
+stopped and shaded his eyes with his hand.
+
+"It's fine, isn't it, Randal?" he said.  "One gets fond of the place."
+
+He was a little ashamed to have betrayed such feeling and spoke
+apologetically.  He went on hurriedly.  "There was an old chap in
+Germany--at Worms--who was most awfully interesting.  He kept a little
+bookshop, and I used to go down and talk to him, and he said once that
+the sea was the most beautiful dream that the world contained, but you
+must never get too near or the dream broke, and from that moment you
+had no peace."
+
+Randal looked at Robin anxiously.  "I say, old chap, this place is
+getting on your nerves; always being here is bad for you.  Why don't
+you come up to town or go abroad?  You're seedy."
+
+"Oh, I'm all right," Robin said, rather irritably.  "Only one wonders
+sometimes if--" he broke off suddenly.  "I'm a bit worried about
+something," he said.
+
+He was immediately aware that he had said nothing to Randal about the
+Feverel affair and he wondered why.  Randal would have been the natural
+person to talk to about it; his advice would have been worth having.
+But Robin felt vaguely that it would be better not.  For some strange
+reason, as yet unanalysed, he scarcely trusted him as he had done in
+the old days.  He was still wondering why, when they arrived at the
+station.
+
+They said good-bye affectionately--rather more affectionately than
+usual.  There was a little sense of strain, and Robin felt relieved
+when the train had gone.  As he hurried from the platform he puzzled
+over it.  He could hold no clue, but he knew that their friendship had
+changed a little.  He was sorry.
+
+As he turned down the station road he decided that life was becoming
+very complicated.  There was first his father; that oughtn't in the
+nature of things to have complicated matters at all--but it was
+complicated, because there was no knowing what a man like that would
+do.  He might let the family down so badly; it was almost like having
+gunpowder in your cellar.  Randal had thought him absurd.  Robin saw
+that clearly, and Randal's opinion was that of all truly sensible
+people.  But, after all, the real complication was the Feverel affair.
+It was now nearly ten days since that terrible evening and nothing had
+happened.  Robin wasn't sure what _could_ have happened, but he had
+expected something.  He had waited for a note; she would most assuredly
+write and her letter would serve as a hint, he would know how to act;
+but there had been no sign.  On the day following the interview he had
+felt, for the most part, relief.  He was suddenly aware of the burden
+that the affair had been, he was a free man; but with this there had
+been compunction.  He had acted like a brute; he was surprised that he
+could have been so hard, and he was a little ashamed of meeting the
+public gaze.  If people only realised, he thought, what a cad he was,
+they would assuredly have nothing to do with him.  As the days passed,
+this feeling increased and he was extremely uncomfortable.  He had
+never before doubted that he was a very decent fellow--nothing,
+perhaps, exceptional in any way, but, judged by every standard, he
+passed muster.  Now he wasn't so sure, he had done something that he
+would have entirely condemned in another man, and this showed him
+plainly and most painfully the importance that he placed on the other
+man's opinion.  He was beginning to grow his crop of ideas and he was
+already afraid of the probable harvest.
+
+That his affection for Dahlia was dead there could be no question, but
+that it was buried, either for himself or the public, was, most
+unfortunately, not the case.  He was afraid of discovery for the first
+time in his life, and it was unpleasant.  Dahlia herself would be
+quiet; at least, he was almost sure, although her outbreak the other
+evening had surprised him.  But he was afraid of Mrs. Feverel.  He felt
+now that she had never liked him; he saw her as some grim dragon
+waiting for his inevitable surrender.  He did not know what she would
+do; he was beginning to realise his inexperience, but he knew that she
+would never allow the affair to pass quietly away.  To do him justice,
+it was not so much the fear of personal exposure that frightened him;
+that, of course, would be unpleasant--he would have to face the
+derision of his enemies and the contempt of those people whom formerly
+he had himself despised.  But it was not personal contempt, it was the
+disgrace to the family; the house was suddenly threatened on two
+sides--his father, the Feverels--and he was frightened.  He saw his
+name in the papers; the Trojan name dragged through the mud because of
+his own folly--Oh! it must be stopped at all costs.  But the
+uncertainty of it was worrying him.  Ten days had passed and nothing
+was done.  Ten days, and he had been able to speak of it to no one; it
+had haunted him all day and had spoiled his sleep; first, because he
+had done something of which he was ashamed, and secondly, because he
+was afraid that people might know.
+
+There were the letters.  He remembered some of the sentences now and
+bit his lip.  How could he have been such a fool?  She must give them
+back--of course she would; but there was Mrs. Feverel.
+
+The uncertainty was torturing him--he must find out how matters were,
+and suddenly, on the inspiration of the moment, he decided to go and
+see Dahlia at once.  Things could not be worse, and at least the
+uncertainty would be ended.  The golden day irritated him, and he found
+the dark gloom of the Feverels' street a relief.  A man was playing an
+organ at the corner, and three dirty, tattered children were dancing
+noisily in the middle of the road.  He watched them for a moment before
+ringing the bell, and wondered how they could seem so unconcerned, and
+he thought them abandoned.
+
+He found Dahlia alone in the gaudy drawing-room.  She gave a little cry
+when she saw who it was, and her cheeks flushed red, and then the
+colour faded.  He noticed that she was looking ill and rather untidy.
+There were dark lines under her eyes and her mouth was drawn.  There
+was an awkward pause; he had sat down with his hat in his hand and he
+was painfully ill at ease.
+
+"I knew you would come back, Robin," she began at last.  "Only you have
+been a long time--ten days.  I have never gone out, because I was
+afraid that I would miss you.  But I knew that you would be sorry after
+the other night, because you know, dear, you hurt me terribly, and for
+a time I really thought you meant it."
+
+"But I do mean it," Robin broke in.  "I did and I do.  I'm sorry,
+Dahlia, for having hurt you, but I thought that you would see it as I
+do--that it must, I mean, stop.  I had hoped that you would understand."
+
+But she came over and stood by him, smiling rather timidly.  "I don't
+want to start it all over again," she said.  "It was silly of me to
+have made such a fuss the other night.  I have been thinking all these
+ten days, and it has been my fault all along.  I have bothered you by
+coming here and interfering when I wasn't really wanted.  Mother and I
+will go away again and then you shall come and stay, and we shall be
+all alone--like we were at Cambridge.  I have learnt a good deal during
+these last few days, and if you will only be patient with me I will try
+very hard to improve."
+
+She stood by his chair and laid her hand on his arm.  He would have
+thrilled at her touch six months before--now he was merely impatient.
+It was so annoying that the affair should have to be reopened when they
+had decided it finally the other night.  He felt again the blind,
+unreasoning fear of exposure.  He had never before doubted his bravery,
+but there had never been any question of attack--the House had been, it
+seemed, founded on a rock, he had never doubted its stability before.
+Now, with all the cruelty of a man who was afraid for the first time,
+he had no mercy.
+
+"It is over, Dahlia--there is no other possibility.  We had both made a
+mistake; I am sorry and regret extremely if I had led you to think that
+it could ever have been otherwise.  I see it more clearly than I saw it
+ten days ago--quite plainly now--and there's no purpose served in
+keeping the matter open; here's an end.  We will both forget.  Heroics
+are no good; after all, we are man and woman--it's better to leave it
+at that and accept the future quietly."
+
+He spoke coldly and calmly, indeed he was surprised that he could face
+it like that, but his one thought was for peace, to put this spectre
+that had haunted him these ten days behind him and watch the world
+again with a straight gaze--he must have no secrets.
+
+She had moved away and stood by the fireplace, looking straight before
+her.  She was holding herself together with a terrible effort; she must
+quiet her brain and beat back her thoughts.  If she thought for a
+moment she would break down, and during these ten days she had been
+schooling herself to face whatever might come--shame, exposure,
+anything--she would not cry and beg for pity as she had done before.
+But it was the end, the end, the end!  The end of so much that had
+given her a new soul during the last few months.  She must go back to
+those dreary years that had had no meaning in them, all those
+purposeless grey days that had stretched in endless succession on to a
+dismal future in which there shone no sun.  Oh! he couldn't know what
+it had all meant to her--it could be flung aside by him without regret.
+For him it was a foolish memory, for her it was death.
+
+The tears were coming, her lips were quivering, but she clenched her
+hands until the nails dug into the flesh.  The sun poured in a great
+flood of colour through the window, and meanwhile her heart was broken.
+She had read of it often enough and had laughed--she had not known that
+it meant that terrible dull throbbing pain and no joy or hope or light
+anywhere.  But she spoke to him quietly.
+
+"I had thought that you were braver, Robin.  That you had cared enough
+not to mind what they said.  You are right: it has all been a mistake."
+
+"Yes," he said doggedly, without looking at her.  "We've been foolish.
+I hadn't thought enough about others.  You see after all one owes
+something to one's people.  It would never do, Dahlia, it wouldn't
+really.  You'd never like it either--you see we're different.  At
+Cambridge one couldn't see it so clearly, but here--well, there are
+things one owes to one's people, tradition, and, oh! lots of things!
+You have got your customs, we have ours--it doesn't do to mix."
+
+He hadn't meant to put it so clearly.  He scarcely realised what he had
+said because he was not thinking of her at all; it was only that one
+thing that he saw in front of him, how to get out, away, clear of the
+whole entanglement, where there was no question of suspicion and
+possible revelation of secrets.  He was not thinking of her.
+
+But the cruelty of it, the naked, unhesitating truth of it, stung her
+as nothing had ever hurt her before--it was as though he had struck her
+in the face.  She was not good enough, she was not fit.  He had said it
+before, but then he had been angry.  She had not believed it; but now
+he was speaking calmly, coldly--she was not good enough!
+
+And in a moment her idol had tumbled to the ground--her god was lying
+pitifully in the dust, and all the Creed that she had learnt so
+patiently and faithfully had crumbled into nothing.  Her despair
+seemed, for the moment, to have gone; she only felt burning
+contempt--contempt for him, that he could seem so small--contempt for
+herself, that she could have worshipped at such altars.
+
+She turned round and looked at him.
+
+"That is rather unfair.  You say that I am not your equal socially.
+Well, we will leave it at that--you are quite right--it is over."
+
+He lowered his eyes before her steady gaze.  At last he was ashamed; he
+had not meant to put it brutally.  He had behaved like a cad and he
+knew it.  Her white face, her hands clenched tightly at her side, the
+brave lift of her head as she faced him, moved him as her tears and
+emotions had never done.
+
+He sprang up and stood by her.
+
+"Dahlia, I've been a brute, a cad--I didn't know what I had said--I
+didn't mean it like that, as you thought.  Only I've been so worried,
+I've not known where to turn and--oh, don't you see, I'm so young.  I
+get driven, I can't stand up against them all."
+
+Why, he was nearly crying.  The position was suddenly reversed, and she
+could almost have laughed at the change.  He was looking at her
+piteously, like a boy convicted of orchard-robbing--and she had loved
+him, worshipped him!  Five minutes ago his helplessness would have
+stirred her, she would have wanted to take him and protect him and
+comfort him; but now all that was past--she felt only contempt and
+outraged pride: her eyes were hard and her hands unclenched.
+
+"It is no good, Robin.  You were quite right.  There is an end of
+everything.  It was a mistake for both of us, and perhaps it is as well
+that we should know it now.  It will spare us later."
+
+So that was the end.  He felt little triumph or satisfaction; he was
+only ashamed.
+
+He turned to go without a word.  Then he remembered--"There are the
+letters?"
+
+"Ah! you must let me keep them--for a memory."  She was not looking at
+him, but out of the window on to the street.  A cab was slowly crawling
+in the distance--she could see the end of the driver's whip as he
+flicked at his horses.
+
+"You can't--you don't mean----?"  Robin turned back to her.
+
+"I mean nothing--only I am--tired.  You had better go.  We will write
+if there is anything more."
+
+"Look here!"  Robin was trembling from head to foot.  "You must let me
+have them back.  It's serious--more than you know.  People might see
+them and--my God! you would ruin me!"
+
+He was speaking melodramatically, and he looked melodramatic and very
+ridiculous.  He was crushing his bowler in his hands.
+
+"No.  I will keep them!"  She spoke slowly and quite calmly, as though
+she had thought it all out before.  "They are valuable.  Now you must
+go.  This has been silly enough--Good-bye."
+
+She turned to the window and he was dismissed.  His pride came to the
+rescue; he would not let her see that he cared, so he went--without
+another word.
+
+She stood in the same position, and watched him go down the street.  He
+was walking quickly and at the same time a little furtively, as though
+he was afraid of meeting acquaintances.  She turned away from the
+window, and then, suddenly, knelt on the floor with her head in her
+hands.  She sobbed miserably, hopelessly, with her hands pressed
+against her face.
+
+And Mrs. Feverel found her kneeling there in the sunlight an hour later.
+
+"Dahlia," she said softly, "Dahlia!"
+
+The girl looked up.  "He has gone, mother," she said.  "And he is never
+coming back.  I sent him away."
+
+And Mrs. Feverel said nothing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+There were times when Harry felt curiously, impressively, the age of
+the house.  It was not all of it old, it had been added to from time to
+time by successive Trojans; but there had, from the earliest days, been
+a stronghold on the hill overlooking the sea and keeping guard.
+
+He had had a wonderful pride in it on his return, but now he began to
+feel as though he had no right in it.  Surely if any one had a right to
+such a heritage it was he, but they had isolated him and told him that
+he had no place there.  The gardens, the corners and battlements of the
+house, the great cliff falling sheer to the sea, had had no welcome for
+him, and when he had claimed his succession they had refused him.  He
+was beginning to give the stocks and stones of the House a personal
+existence.  Sometimes at night, when the moon gave the place grey
+shadows and white lights, or in the early morning when the first birds
+were crying in the trees and the sea was slowly taking colour from the
+rising sun, in the perfect stillness and beauty of those hours the
+house had seemed to speak to him with a new voice.  He imagined,
+fantastically at times, that the white statues in the garden watched
+him with grave eyes, wondering what place he would take in the
+chronicles of the House.
+
+It was Sunday afternoon, and he was alone in the library.  That was a
+room that had always appealed to him, with its dark red walls covered
+from floor to ceiling with books, its wide stone fireplace, its soft,
+heavy carpets, its wonderfully comfortable armchairs.  It seemed to him
+the very perfection of that spirit of orderly comfort and luxurious
+simplicity for which he had so earnestly longed in New Zealand.  He sat
+in that room for hours, alone, thinking, wondering, puzzling, devising
+new plans for Robin's surrender and rejecting them as soon as they were
+formed.
+
+He was sitting by the fire now, hearing the coals click as they fell
+into the golden furnace that awaited them.  He was comparing the
+incidents of the morning with those of the preceding Sunday, and he
+knew that things were approaching a crisis.  Clare had scarcely spoken
+to him for three days.  Garrett and Robin had not said a word beyond a
+casual good-morning.  They were ignoring him, continuing their daily
+life as though he did not exist at all.  He remembered that he had felt
+his welcome a fortnight before a little cold--it seemed rapturous
+compared with the present state of things.
+
+They had driven to church that morning in state.  No one had exchanged
+a word during the whole drive.  Clare had sat quietly, in solemn
+magnificence, without moving an eyelid.  They had moved from the
+carriage to the church in majestic procession, watched by an admiring
+cluster of townspeople.  He had liked Clare's fine bearing and Robin's
+carriage; there was no doubt that they supported family traditions
+worthily, but he felt that, in the eyes of the world, he scarcely
+counted at all.  It was a cold and over-decorated church, with an air
+of wealth and lack of all warm emotions that was exactly characteristic
+of its congregation.  Harry thought that he had never seen a gathering
+of more unresponsive people.  An excellent choir sang Stainer in B flat
+with perfect precision and fitting respect, and the hymns and psalms
+were murmured with proper decorum.  The clergyman who had come to tea
+on the day after Harry's arrival preached a carefully calculated and
+excellently worded sermon.  Although his text was the publican's "Lord,
+be merciful to me, a sinner," it was evident that his address was
+tinged with the Pharisee's self-congratulations.
+
+A little gathering was formed in the porch after the service, and Mrs.
+le Terry, magnificent in green silk and an enormous hat, was the only
+person who took any interest in Harry, and she was looking over his
+head during the conversation in order, apparently, to fix the attention
+of some gentleman moving in the opposite direction.
+
+At lunch Harry had made a determined effort towards cheerfulness.  He
+had learnt that heartiness was bad manners and effusion a crime, so he
+was quiet and restrained.  But his efforts failed miserably; Robin
+seemed worried and his thoughts were evidently far away, Clare was
+occupied with the impertinence of some stranger who had thrust himself
+into the Trojan pew at the last moment, and Garrett was repeating
+complacently a story that he had heard at the Club tending to prove the
+unsanitary condition of the lower classes in general and the
+inhabitants of the Cove in particular.  After lunch they had left him
+alone; he had not dared to petition Robin for a walk, so, sick at heart
+and miserably lonely, he had wandered disconsolately into the library.
+He had taken from one of the shelves the volume T-U of _The Dictionary
+of National Biography_, and had amused himself by searching for the
+names of heroes in Trojan annals.
+
+There was only one who really mattered--a certain Humphrey Trojan,
+1718-1771; a man apparently of poor circumstances and quite a distant
+cousin of the main branch, one who had been in all probability despised
+by the Sir Henry Trojan of that time.  Nevertheless he had been a
+person of some account in history and had, from the towers of the
+House, watched the sea and the stars to some purpose.  He had been
+admitted, Harry imagined, into the sacred precincts after his
+researches had made him a person of national importance, and it was
+amusing to picture Sir Henry's pride transformed into a rather
+obsequious familiarity when "My cousin, Humphrey, had been honoured by
+an interview with his Majesty and had received an Order at the royal
+hand"--amusing, yes, but not greatly to the glory of Sir Henry.  Harry
+liked to picture Humphrey in his days of difficulty--sturdy,
+persevering, confident in his own ability, oblivious of the cuts dealt
+him by his cousin.  Time would show.
+
+He let the book fall and gazed at the fire, thinking.  After all, he
+was a poor creature.  He had none of that perseverance and belief in
+his own ultimate success, and it was better, perhaps, to get right out
+of it, to throw up the sponge, to turn tail, and again there floated
+before him that wonderful dream of liberty and the road--of a
+relationship with the world at large, and no constraint of family
+dignity and absurd grades of respectability.  Off with the harness; he
+had worn it for a fortnight and he could bear it no longer.  Bethel was
+right; he would follow the same path and find his soul by losing it in
+the eyes of the world.  But after all, there was Robin.  He had not
+given it a fair trial, and it was only cowardice that had spoken to him.
+
+The clock struck half-past three and he went upstairs to see his
+father.  The old man seldom left his bed now.  He grew weaker every day
+and the end could not be far away.  He had no longer any desire to
+live, and awaited with serene confidence the instant of departure,
+being firmly convinced that Death was too good a gentleman to treat a
+Trojan scurvily, and that, whatever the next world might contain, he
+would at least be assured of the respect and deference that the present
+world had shown him.  His mind dwelt continually on his early days,
+and, even when there was no one present to listen, he repeated
+anecdotes and reminiscences for the benefit of the world at large.  His
+face seemed to have dwindled considerably, but his eyes were always
+alive--twinkling over the bedclothes like lights in a dark room.  His
+mouth never moved, only his hand, claw-like and yellow as parchment,
+clutched the bedclothes and sometimes waved feebly in the air to
+emphasise his meaning.  He had grown strangely intolerant of Clare, and
+although he submitted to her offices as usual, did so reluctantly and
+with no good grace; she had served him faithfully and diligently for
+twenty years and this was her reward.  She said nothing, but she laid
+it to Harry's charge.
+
+Sir Jeremy's eyes twinkled when he saw his son.  "Hey, Harry, my
+boy--all of 'em out, aren't they?  Devilish good thing--no one to worry
+us.  Just give the pillows a punch and pull that table nearer--that's
+right.  Just pull that blind up--I can't see the sea."
+
+The room had changed its character within the last week.  It was a
+place of silences and noiseless tread, and the scent of flowers mingled
+with the intangible odour of medicine.  A great fire burnt in the open
+fireplace, and heavy curtains had been hung over the door to prevent
+draughts.
+
+Harry moved silently about the room, flung up the blind to let in the
+sun, propped up the pillows, and then sat down by the bed.
+
+"You're looking better, father," he said; "you'll soon be up again."
+
+"The devil I will," said Sir Jeremy.  "No, it's not for me.  I'm here
+for a month or two, and then I'm off.  I've had my day, and a damned
+good one too.  What do you think o' that girl now, Harry--she's
+fine--what?"
+
+He produced from under the pillow a photograph, yellow with age, of a
+dancer--jet-black hair and black eyes, her body balanced on one leg,
+her hands on her hips.  "Anonita Sendella--a devilish fine woman, by
+gad--sixty years ago that was--and Tom Buckley and I were in the
+running.  He had the money and I had the looks, although you wouldn't
+think it now.  She liked me until she got tired of me and she died o'
+drink--not many like that nowadays."  He gazed at the photograph whilst
+his eyes twinkled.  "Legs--by Heaven! what legs!" He chuckled.
+"Wouldn't do for Clare to see that; she was shaking my pillows this
+mornin' and I was in a deuce of a fright--thought the thing would
+tumble out."
+
+He lay back on his pillows thinking, and Harry stared out of the
+window.  The end would come in a month or two--perhaps sooner; and
+then, what would happen?  He would take his place as head of the
+family.  He laughed to himself--head of the family! when Clare and
+Garrett and Robin all hated him?  Head of the family!
+
+The sky was grey and the sea flecked with white horses.  It was
+shifting colours to-day like a mother-of-pearl shell--a great band of
+dark grey on the horizon, and then a soft carpet of green turning to
+grey again by the shore.  The grey hoofs [Transcriber's note: roofs?]
+of the Cove crowded down to the edge of the land, seeming to lean a
+little forward, as though listening to what the sea had to say; the
+sun, breaking mistily through the clouds, was a round ball of dull
+gold--a line of breakwater, far in the distance, seemed ever about to
+advance down the stretch of sea to the shore, as though it would hurl
+itself on the cluster of brown sails in the little bay, huddling there
+for protection.  Head of the House!  What was the use, when the House
+didn't want him?
+
+His father was watching him and seemed to have read his thoughts.
+"You'll take my place, Harry?" he said.  "They won't like it, you know.
+It was partly my fault.  I sent you away and you grew up away, and
+they've always been here.  I've been wanting you to come back all this
+time, and it wasn't because I was angry that I didn't ask you--but it
+was better for you.  You don't see it yet; you came back thinking
+they'd welcome you and be glad to see you, and you're a bit hurt that
+they haven't.  They've been hard to you, all of 'em--your boy as well.
+I've known, right enough.  But it cuts both ways, you see.  They can't
+see your point of view, and they're afraid of the open air you're
+letting in on to them.  You're too soft, Harry; you've shown them that
+it hurts, and they've wanted it to hurt.  Give 'em a stiff back, Harry,
+give 'em a stiff back.  Then you'll have 'em.  That's like us Trojans.
+We're devilish cruel because we're devilish proud; if you're kind we
+hurt, but if you do a bit of hurting on your own account we like it."
+
+"I've made a mess of it," Harry said, "a hopeless mess of it.  I've
+tried everything, and it's all failed.  I'd better back out of it--"
+Then, after a pause, "Robin hates me----"
+
+Sir Jeremy chuckled.
+
+"Oh no, he doesn't.  He's like the rest of us.  You wanted him to give
+himself away at once, and of course he wouldn't.  They're trying you
+and waiting to see what you'll do, and Robin's just following on.
+You'll be all right, only give 'em a stiff back, the whole crowd of
+'em."
+
+Suddenly his wrinkled yellow hand shot out from under the bedclothes
+and he grasped his son's.  "You're a damned fine chap," he said, "and
+I'm proud of you--only you're a bit of a fool--sentimental, you know.
+But you'll make more of the place than I've ever done, God bless you--"
+after which he lay back on his pillows again, and was soon asleep.
+
+Harry waited for a little, and then he stole out of the room.  He told
+the nurse to take his place, and went downstairs.
+
+It was four o'clock, and he was going to tea at the Bethels'.  He had
+been there pretty frequently during the past week--that and the Cove
+were his only courts of welcome.  He knew that his going there had only
+aggravated his offences in the eyes of his sister, but that he could
+not help.  Why should they dictate his friends to him?
+
+The little drawing-room was neat and clean.  There were some flowers,
+and the chairs and sofa were not littered with books and needlework and
+strange fragments of feminine garments.  Mrs. Bethel was gorgeous in a
+green silk dress and the paint was more obtrusive than ever.  Her eyes
+were red as though she had been crying, and her hair as usual had
+escaped bounds.
+
+Mary was making tea and smiled up at him.  "Shout at father," she said.
+"He's downstairs in the study, browsing.  He'll come up when he knows
+you are here."
+
+Harry went to the head of the stairs and called, and Bethel came
+rushing up.  Sunday made no difference to his clothes, and he wore the
+grey suit and flannel collar of their first meeting.
+
+His greeting was, as ever, boisterous.  "Hullo! Trojan! that's
+splendid!  I was afraid they'd carry you off to that church of yours or
+you'd have a tea-party or something.  I'm glad they've spared you."
+
+"No, I went this morning," Harry answered, "all of us solemnly in the
+family coach.  I thought that was enough for one day."
+
+"We used to have a carriage when papa was alive," said Mrs. Bethel,
+"and we drove to church every Sunday.  We were the only people beside
+the Porsons, and theirs was only a pony-cart."
+
+"Well, for my part, I hate driving," said Mary.  "It puts you in a bad
+temper for the sermon."
+
+"Let's have tea," said Bethel.  "I'm as hungry as though I'd listened
+to fifty parsons."
+
+And, indeed, he always was.  He ate as though he had had no meal for a
+month at least, and he had utterly demolished the tea-cake before he
+realised that no one else had had any.
+
+"Oh, I say, I'm so sorry," he said ruefully.  "Mary, why didn't you
+tell me?  I'll never forgive myself----" and proceeded to finish the
+saffron buns.
+
+"All the same," said Mary, "we're going to church to-night, all of us,
+and if you're very good, Mr. Trojan, you shall come too."
+
+Harry paused for a moment.  "I shall be delighted," he said; "but where
+do you go?"
+
+"There's a little church called St. Sennan's.  You haven't heard of it,
+probably.  It's past the Cove--on a hill looking over the sea.  It's
+the most tumble-down old place you ever saw, and nobody goes there
+except a few fishermen, but we know the clergyman and like him.  I like
+the place too--you can listen to the sea if you're bored with the
+sermon."
+
+"The parson is like one of the prophets," said Bethel.  "Too strong for
+the Pendragon point of view.  It's a place of ruins, Trojan, and the
+congregation are like a crowd of ancient Britons--but you'll like it."
+
+Mrs. Bethel was unwontedly quiet--it was obvious that she was in
+distress; Mary, too, seemed to speak at random, and there was an air of
+constraint in the room.
+
+When they set off for church the grey sky had changed to blue; the sun
+had just set, and little pink clouds like fairy cushions hung round the
+moon.  As they passed out of the town, through the crooked path down to
+the Cove, Harry had again that strong sense of Cornwall that came to
+him sometimes so suddenly, so strangely, that it was almost mysterious,
+for it seemed to have no immediate cause, no absolute relation to
+surrounding sights or sounds.  Perhaps to-night it was in the misty
+half-light of the shining moon and the dying sun, the curious stillness
+of the air so that the sounds and cries of the town came distinctly on
+the wind, the scent of some wild flowers, the faint smell of the
+chrysanthemums that Mary was wearing at her breast.
+
+"By Jove, it's Cornwall," he said, drawing a great breath.  He was
+walking a little ahead with Mary, and he turned to her as she spoke.
+She was walking with her head bent, and did not seem to hear him.
+"What's up?" he said.
+
+"Nothing," she answered, trying to smile.
+
+"But there is," he insisted.  "I'm not blind.  I've bored you with my
+worries.  You might honour me with yours."
+
+"There isn't anything really.  One's foolish to mind, and, indeed, it's
+not for myself that I care--but it's mother."
+
+"What have they done?"
+
+"They don't like us--none of them do.  I don't know why they should; we
+aren't, perhaps, very likeable.  But it is cruel of them to show it.
+Mother, you see, likes meeting people--we had it in London, friends I
+mean, lots of them, and then when we came here we had none.  We have
+never had any from the beginning.  We tried, perhaps a little too hard,
+to have some.  We gave little parties and they failed, and then people
+began to think us peculiar, and if they once do that here you're done
+for.  Perhaps we didn't see it quite soon enough and we went on trying,
+and then they began to snub us."
+
+"Snub you?"
+
+"Yes, you know the kind of thing.  You saw that first day we met
+you----"
+
+"And it hurts?"
+
+"Yes--for mother.  She still tries; she doesn't see that it's no good,
+and each time that she goes and calls, something happens and she comes
+back like she did to-day.  I don't suppose they mean to be unkind--it
+is only that we are, you see, peculiar, and that doesn't do here.
+Father wears funny clothes and never sees any one, and so they think
+there must be something wrong----"
+
+"It's a shame," he said indignantly.
+
+"No," she answered, "it isn't really.  It's one's own fault--only
+sometimes I hate it all.  Why couldn't we have stayed in London?  We
+had friends there, and father's clothes didn't matter.  Here such
+little things make such a big difference"--which was, Harry reflected,
+a complete epitome of the life of Pendragon.
+
+"I'm not whining," she went on.  "We all have things that we don't
+like, but when you're without a friend----"
+
+"Not quite," he said; "you must count me."  He stopped for a moment.
+"You _will_ count me, won't you?"
+
+"You realise what you are doing," she said.  "You are entering into
+alliance with outcasts."
+
+"You forget," he answered, "that I, also, am an outcast.  We can at
+least be outcasts together."
+
+"It is good of you," she said gravely; "I am selfish enough to accept
+it.  If I was really worth anything, I would never let you see us
+again.  It means ostracism."
+
+"We will fight them," he answered gaily.  "We will storm the camp"; but
+in his heart he knew that their stronghold, with "The Flutes" as the
+heart of the defence, would be hard to overcome.
+
+They climbed up the hill to the little church with the sea roaring at
+their feet.  A strong wind was blowing, and, for a moment, at a steep
+turn of the hill, she laid her hand on his arm; at the touch his heart
+beat furiously--in that moment he knew that he loved her, that he had
+loved her from the first moment that he had seen her, and he passed on
+into the church.
+
+It was, as Bethel had said, almost in ruins--the little nave was
+complete, but ivy clambered in the aisles and birds had built their
+nests in the pillars.  Three misty candles flickered on the altar, and
+some lights burnt over the pulpit, but there were strange half-lights
+and shadows so that it seemed a place of ghosts.  Through the open door
+the night air blew, bringing with it the beating of the sea, and the
+breath of grass and flowers.  The congregation was scanty; some
+fishermen and their wives, two or three old women, and a baby that made
+no sound but listened wonderingly with its finger in its mouth.  The
+clergyman was a tall man with a long white beard and he did everything,
+even playing the little wheezy harmonium.  His sermon was short and
+simple, but was listened to with rapt attention.  There was something
+strangely intense about it all, and the hymns were sung with an
+eagerness that Harry had never heard elsewhere.  This was a contrast
+with the church of the morning, just as the Cove was a contrast with
+Pendragon; the parting of the ways seemed to face Harry at every moment
+of his day--his choice was being urgently demanded and he had no longer
+any hesitation.
+
+Newsome was there, and he spoke to him for a moment on coming out.
+"You'll be lonely 'up-along,'" he said; "you belong to us."
+
+They all four walked back together.
+
+"How do you like our ancient Britons?" said Bethel.
+
+"It was wonderful," said Harry.  "Thank you for taking me."
+
+They were all very silent, but when they parted at the turning of the
+road Bethel laughed.  "Now you are one of us, Trojan.  We have claimed
+you."
+
+As he shook Mary's hand he whispered, "This has been a great evening
+for me."
+
+"I was wrong to grumble to you," she answered.  "You have worries
+enough of your own.  I release you from your pledge."
+
+"I will not be released," he said.
+
+That night Clare Trojan, before going to bed, went into Garrett's room.
+He was working at his book, and, as usual, hinted that to take such
+advantage of his good-nature by her interruption was unfair.
+
+"I suppose to-morrow morning wouldn't do instead, Clare--it's a bit
+late."
+
+"No, it wouldn't--I want you to listen to me.  It's important."
+
+"Well?"  He seated himself in the most comfortable chair and sighed.
+"Don't be too long."
+
+She was excited and stood over him as though she would force him to be
+interested.
+
+"It's too much, Garrett.  It's got to stop."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Harry.  Some one must speak to him."
+
+Garrett smiled.  "That, of course, will be you, Clare--you always do;
+but if it's my permission that you want you may have it and welcome.
+But we've discussed all this before.  What's the new turn of affairs?"
+
+"No.  I want more than your permission; we must take some measures
+together.  It's no good unless we act at once.  Miss Ponsonby told me
+this afternoon--it has become common talk--the things he does, I mean.
+She did not want to say anything, but I made her.  He goes down
+continually to some low public-house in the Cove; he is with those
+Bethels all day, and will see nothing of any of the decent people in
+the place--he is becoming a common byword."
+
+"It is a pity," Garrett said, "that he cannot choose his friends
+better."
+
+"He must--something must be done.  It is not for ourselves only, though
+of course that counts.  But it is the House--our name.  They laugh at
+him, and so at all of us.  Besides, there is Robin."
+
+Garrett looked at his sister curiously--he had never seen her so
+excited before.  But she found it no laughing matter.  Miss Ponsonby
+would not have spoken unless matters had gone pretty far.  The Cove!
+The Bethels!  Robin's father!
+
+For, after all, it was for Robin that she cared.  She felt that she was
+fighting his battles, and so subtly concealed from herself that she
+was, in reality, fighting her own.  She was in a state of miserable
+uncertainty.  She was not sure of her father, she was not sure of
+Robin, scarcely sure of Garrett--everything threatened disaster.
+
+"What will you do?"  Garrett had no desire that the responsibility
+should be shifted in his direction; he feared responsibility as the
+rock on which the ship of his carefully preserved proprieties might
+come to wreck.
+
+"Do?  Why, speak--it must be done.  Think of him during the whole time
+that he has been here--not only to Pendragon, but to us.  He has made
+no attempt whatever to fit in with our ways or thoughts; he has shown
+no desire to understand any of us; and now he must be pulled up, for
+his own sake as well as ours."
+
+But Garrett offered her little assistance.  He had no proposals to
+offer, and was barren of all definite efforts; he hated definite lines
+of any kind, but he promised to fall in with her plans.
+
+"I will come down to breakfast," she said, "and will speak to him
+afterwards."
+
+Garrett nodded wearily and went back to his work.  On the next morning
+the crisis came.
+
+Breakfast was a silent meal at all times.  Harry had learnt to avoid
+the cheerful familiarity of his first morning--it would not do.  But
+the heavy solemnity of the massive silver teapot, the ham and cold game
+on the sideboard, the racks of toast that were so needlessly numerous,
+drove him into himself, and, like his brother and son, he disappeared
+behind folds of newspaper until the meal was over.
+
+Clare frequently came down to breakfast, and therefore he saw nothing
+unusual in her appearance.  The meal was quite silent; Clare had her
+letters--and he was about to rise and leave the room, when she spoke.
+
+"Wait a minute, Harry.  I want to say something.  No, Robin, don't
+go--what I'm going to say concerns us all."
+
+Garrett remained behind his newspaper, which showed that he had
+received previous warning.  Robin looked up in surprise, and then
+quickly at his father, who had moved to the fireplace.
+
+"About me, Clare?"  He tried to speak calmly, but his voice shook a
+little.  He saw that it was a premeditated attack, but he wished that
+Robin hadn't been there.  He was, on the whole, glad that the moment
+had come; the last week had been almost unbearable, and the situation
+was bound to arrive at a crisis--well, here it was, but he wished that
+Robin were not there.  As he looked at the boy for a moment his face
+was white and his breath came sharply.  He had never loved him quite so
+passionately as at that moment when he seemed about to lose him.
+
+Clare had chosen her time and her audience well, and suddenly he felt
+that he hated her; he was immediately calm and awaited her attack
+almost nonchalantly, his hand resting on the mantelpiece, his legs
+crossed.
+
+Clare was still sitting at the table, her face half turned to Harry,
+her glance resting on Robin.  She tapped the table with her letters,
+but otherwise gave no sign of agitation.
+
+"Yes--about you, Harry.  It is only that I think we have reason--almost
+a right--to expect that you should yield a little more thoroughly to
+our wishes.  Both _Garrett_"--this with emphasis--"and myself are sure
+that your failing to do so is only due to a misconception on your part,
+and it is because we are sure that you have only to realise them to
+give way a little to them, that I--we--are speaking."
+
+"I certainly had not realised that I had failed in deference to your
+wishes, Clare."
+
+"No, not failed--and it is absurd to talk of deference.  It is only
+that I feel--we all feel"--this with another glance at Robin--"that it
+is naturally impossible for you to realise exactly what are the things
+required of us here.  Things that would in New Zealand have been of no
+importance at all."
+
+"Such as----?"
+
+"Well, you must remember that we have, as it were, the eyes of all the
+town upon us.  We occupy a position of some importance, and we are
+definitely expected to maintain that position without lack of dignity."
+
+"Won't you come to the point, Clare?  It is a little hard to see----"
+
+"Oh, things are obvious enough--surely, Harry, you must see for
+yourself.  People were ready to give you a warm welcome when you
+returned.  I--we--all of us, were only too glad.  But you repulsed us
+all.  Why, on the very day after your arrival you were extremely--I am
+sorry, but there is no other word--discourteous to the Miss Ponsonbys.
+You have made your friends almost entirely amongst the fisher class, a
+strange thing, surely, for a Trojan to do, and you now, I believe,
+spend your evenings frequently in a low public-house resorted to by
+such persons--at any rate you have spent them neither here nor at the
+Club, the two obvious places.  I am only mentioning these things
+because I think that you may not have seen that such matters--trivial
+as they may seem to you--reflect discredit, not only on yourself, but
+also, indirectly, on all of us."
+
+"You forget, Clare, that I have many old friends down at the Cove.
+They were there when I was a boy.  The people in Pendragon have changed
+very largely, almost entirely.  There is scarcely any one whom I knew
+twenty years ago; it is, I should have thought, quite natural that I
+should go to see my old friends again after so long an absence."
+
+He was trying to speak quietly and calmly.  His heart was beating
+furiously, but he knew that if he once lost control, he would lose,
+too, his position.  But, as he watched them, and saw their cold,
+unmoved attitude his anger rose; he had to keep it down with both hands
+clenched--it was only by remembering Robin that the effort was
+successful.
+
+"Natural to go and see them on your return--of course.  But to return,
+to go continually, no.  I cannot help feeling, Harry, that you have
+been a little selfish.  That you have scarcely seen our side of the
+question.  Things have changed in the last twenty years--changed
+enormously.  We have seen them, studied them, and, I think, understood
+them.  You come back and face them without any preparation; surely you
+cannot expect to understand them quite as we do."
+
+"This seems to me, I must confess, Clare, a great deal of concern about
+a very little matter.  Surely I am not a person of such importance that
+a few visits to the Cove can ruin us socially?"
+
+"Ah! that is what you don't understand!  Little things matter here.
+People watch, and are, I am afraid, only too ready to fasten on matters
+that do not concern them.  Besides, it is not only the Cove--there are
+other things--there are, for instance, the Bethels."
+
+At the name Robin started.  He liked Mary Bethel, had liked her very
+much indeed, but he had known that his aunt disapproved of them and had
+been careful to disguise his meetings.  But the instant thought in his
+mind concerned the Feverels.  If the Bethels were impossible socially,
+what about Dahlia and her mother?  What would his aunt say if she knew
+of that little affair?  And the question which had attacked him acutely
+during the last week in various forms hurt him now like a knife.
+
+He watched his father curiously.  He did not look as if he cared very
+greatly.  Of course Aunt Clare was perfectly right.  He had been
+selfishly indifferent, had cared nothing for their feelings.  Randal
+had shown plainly enough how impossible he was.  Indeed the shadow of
+Randal lurked in the room in a manner that would have pleased that
+young gentleman intensely had he known it.  Clare had it continually
+before her, urging her, advising her, commanding her.
+
+At the mention of the Bethels, Harry looked up sharply.
+
+"I think we had better leave them out of the discussion."  His voice
+trembled a little.
+
+"Why?  Are they so much to you?  They have, however, a good deal to do
+with my argument.  Do you think it was wise to neglect the whole of
+Pendragon for the society of the Bethels--people of whom one is an
+idler and loafer and the other a lunatic?"  Clare was becoming excited.
+
+"You forget, Clare, that I first met them in your drawing-room."
+
+"They were there entirely against my will.  I showed them that quite
+distinctly at the time.  They will not come again."
+
+"That may be.  But they are, as you have said, my friends.  I cannot,
+therefore, hear them insulted.  They must be left out of the
+discussion."
+
+On any other matter he could have heard her quietly, but the Bethels
+she must leave alone.  He could see Mary, as he spoke, turning on the
+hill and laying her hand on his arm; her hair blew in the wind and the
+light in her eyes shone under the moon.  He had for a moment forgotten
+Robin.
+
+"At any rate, I have made my meaning clear.  We wish you--out of regard
+for us, if for no other reason--to be a little more careful both of
+your company and of your statements.  It is hard for you to see the
+position quite as we do, I know, but I cannot say that you have made
+any attempt whatsoever to see it with our eyes.  It seems useless to
+appeal to you on behalf of the House, but that, too, is worth some
+consideration.  We have been here for many hundreds of years; we should
+continue in the paths that our ancestors have marked out.  I am only
+saying what you yourself feel, Garrett?"
+
+"Absolutely."  Garrett looked up from his paper.  "I think you must
+see, Harry, that we are quite justified in our demands--Clare has put
+it quite plainly."
+
+"Quite," said Harry.  "And you, Robin?"
+
+"I think that Aunt Clare is perfectly right," answered Robin coldly.
+
+Harry's face was very white.  He spoke rapidly and his hand gripped the
+marble of the mantelpiece; he did not want them to see that his legs
+were trembling.
+
+"Yes.  I am glad to know exactly where we stand.  It is better for all
+of us.  I might have taken it submissively, Clare, had you left out
+your last count against me.  That was unworthy of you.  But haven't
+you, perhaps, seen just a little too completely your own point of view
+and omitted mine?  I came back a stranger.  I was ready to do anything
+to win your regard.  I was perhaps a little foolishly sentimental about
+it, but I am a very easy person to understand--it could not have been
+very difficult.  I imagined, foolishly, that things would be quite
+easy--that there would be no complications.  I soon found that I had
+made a mistake; you have taught me more during the last fortnight than
+I had ever learnt in all my twenty years abroad.  I have learnt that to
+expect affection from your own relations, even from your son, is
+absurd--affection is bad form; that, of course, was rather a shock.
+
+"You have had, all of you, your innings during the last fortnight.  You
+have decided, with your friends, that I am impossible, and from that
+moment you have deliberately cut me.  You have driven me to find
+friends of my own and then you have complained of the friends that I
+have chosen.  That is completed--in a fortnight you have shown me,
+quite plainly, your position.  Now I will show you mine.  You have
+refused to have anything to do with me--for the future the position
+shall be reversed.  I shall alter in no respect whatever, either my
+friendships or my habits.  I shall go where I please, do what I please,
+see whom I please.  We shall, of course, disguise our position from the
+world.  I have learnt that disguise is a very important part of one's
+education.  Our former relations from this moment cease entirely."
+
+He was speaking apparently calmly, but his anger was at white-heat.
+All the veiled insults and disappointments of the last fortnight rose
+before him, but, above all, he saw Mary as though he were defending
+her, there, in the room.  He would never forgive them.
+
+Clare was surprised, but she did not show it.  She got up from the
+table and walked to the door.  "Very well, Harry," she said, "I think
+you will regret it."
+
+Garrett rose too, his hand trembling a little as he folded his
+newspaper.
+
+"That is, I suppose, an ultimatum," he said.  "It is a piece of
+insolence that I shall not forget."
+
+Robin was turning to leave the room.  Harry suddenly saw him.  He had
+forgotten him; he had thought only of Mary.
+
+"Robin," he whispered, stepping towards him.  "Robin--you don't think
+as they do?"
+
+"I agree with my aunt," he said, and he left the room, closing the door
+quietly behind him.
+
+Harry's defiance had left him.  For a moment the only thing that he saw
+clearly in a world that had suddenly grown dark and cold was his son.
+He had forgotten the rest--his sister, Mary, Pendragon--it all seemed
+to matter nothing.
+
+He had come from New Zealand to love his son--for nothing else.
+
+He had an impulse to run after him, to seize him, and hold him, and
+force him to come back.
+
+Then he remembered--his pride stung him.  He would fight it out to the
+end; he would, as his father said, "show them a stiff back."
+
+He was very white, and for a moment he had to steady himself by the
+table.  The silver teapot, the ham, the racks of toast were all
+there--how strange, when the rest of the world had changed; he was
+quite alone now--he must remember that--he had no son.  And he, too,
+went out, closing the door quietly behind him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+Some letters during this week:--
+
+
+23 SOUTHWICK CRESCENT, W.,
+  _October_ 10, 1906.
+
+My dear Robin--I should have written before, I am ashamed of my
+omission, but my approaching departure abroad has thrown a great many
+things on my hands; I have a paper to finish for Clarkson and an essay
+for the _New Review_, and letter-writing has been at a standstill.  It
+was delightful--that little peep of you that I got--and it only made me
+regret the more that it is impossible to see much of you nowadays.  I
+cannot help feeling that there is a danger of vegetation if one limits
+oneself too completely to a provincial life, and, charming though
+Cornwall is, its very fascination causes one to forget the importance
+of the outer world.  I fancied that I discerned signs that you yourself
+felt this confinement and wished for something broader.  Well, why not
+have it?  I confess that I see no reason.  Come up to London for a
+time--go abroad--your beloved Germany is waiting for you, and a year at
+one of the Universities would be both amusing and instructive.  These
+are only suggestions; I should hesitate to offer them at all were it
+not that there has always been such sympathy between us that I know you
+will not resent them.  Of course, the arrival of your father has made
+considerable difference.  I must say, honestly, that I regretted to see
+that you had not more in common.  The fault, I expect, has been on both
+sides; as I said to you before, it has been hard for him to realise
+exactly what it is that we consider important.  We--quite mistakenly
+possibly--have come to feel that certain things, art, literature,
+music, are absolutely essential to us, morally and physically.
+
+They are nothing at all to him, and I can quite understand that you
+have found it difficult--almost impossible--to grasp his standpoint.  I
+must confess that he did not seem to me to attempt to consider yours;
+but it is easy, and indeed impertinent, to criticise, and I hope that,
+on the next occasion of your writing, I shall hear that things are
+going smoothly and that the first inevitable awkwardnesses have worn
+off.
+
+I must stop.  I have let my pen wander away with me.  But do consider
+what I said about coming up to town; I am sure that it is bad for you
+in every way--this burial.  Think of your friends, old chap, and let
+them see something of you.--Yours ever,
+
+LANCELOT RANDAL.
+
+
+
+"THE FLUTES," PENDRAGON,
+  _October_ 12, 1906.
+
+My dear Lance--Thanks very much for your letter.  This mustn't pretend
+to be anything of a letter.  I have a thousand things to do, and no
+time to do them.  It was very delightful seeing you, and I, too, was
+extremely sorry we could not see more of you.  My aunt enjoyed your
+visit enormously, and told me to remind you that you are expected here,
+for a long stay, on your return from Germany.
+
+Yes, I was worried and am still.  There are various things--"it never
+rains but it pours"--but I cannot feel that they are in the least due
+to my vegetating.  I haven't the least intention of sticking here, but
+my grandfather is, as you know, very ill, and it is impossible for me
+to get away at present.
+
+Resent what you said!  Why, no, of course not.  We are too good friends
+for resentment, and I am only too grateful for your advice.  The
+situation here at this moment is peculiarly Meredithian--and, although
+one ought perhaps to be silent concerning it, I know that I can trust
+you absolutely and I need your advice badly.  Besides, I must speak to
+some one about it; I have been thinking it over all day and am quite at
+a loss.  There was battle royal this morning after breakfast, and my
+father was extremely rude to my aunt, acting apparently from quite
+selfish motives.  I want to look at it fairly, but I can, honestly, see
+it in no other light.  My aunt accused him of indifference with regard
+to the family good name.  She, quite rightly, I think, pointed out that
+his behaviour from first to last had been the reverse of courteous to
+herself and her friends, and she suggested that he had, perhaps,
+scarcely realised the importance of maintaining the family dignity in
+the eyes of Pendragon.  You remember his continual absences and the
+queer friendships that he formed.  She suggested that he should modify
+these, and take a little more interest in the circle to which we,
+ourselves, belong.  Surely there is nothing objectionable in all this;
+indeed, I should have thought that he would have been grateful for her
+advice.  But no--he fired up in the most absurd manner, accused us of
+unfairness and prejudice, declared his intention of going his own way,
+and gave us all his conge.  In fact, he was extremely rude to my aunt,
+and I cannot forgive him for some of the things that he said.  His
+attitude has been absurd from the first, and I cannot see that we could
+have acted otherwise, but the situation is now peculiar, and what will
+come of it I don't know.  I must dress for dinner--I am curious to see
+whether he will appear--he was out for lunch.  Let me have a line if
+you have a spare moment.  I scarcely know how to act.--Yours,
+
+ROBERT TROJAN.
+
+
+
+23 SOUTHWICK CRESCENT, W.,
+  _October_ 14, 1906.
+
+Dear Robin--In furious haste, am just off and have really no time for
+anything.  I am more sorry than I can say to hear your news.  I must
+confess that I had feared something of the kind; matters seemed working
+to a climax when I was with you.  As to advice, it is almost
+impossible; I really don't know what to say, it is so hard for me to
+judge of all the circumstances.  But it seems to me that your father
+can have had no warrant for the course that he took.  One is naturally
+chary of delivering judgment in such a case, but it was, obviously, his
+duty to adapt himself to his environment.  He cannot blame you for
+reminding him of that fact.  Out of loyalty to your aunt, I do not see
+that you can do anything until he has apologised.  But I will think of
+the matter further, and will write to you from abroad.--In great haste,
+your friend, LANCELOT RANDAL.
+
+
+
+"THE FLUTES," PENDRAGON, CORNWALL,
+  _October_ 13, 1906.
+
+Dear Miss Feverel--I must apologise for forcing you to realise once
+more my existence.  Any reminder must necessarily be painful after our
+last meeting, but I am writing this to request the return of all other
+reminders of our acquaintance that you may happen to possess; I enclose
+the locket, the ring, your letters, and the tie that you worked.  We
+discussed this matter the other day, but I cannot believe that you will
+still hold to a determination that can serve no purpose, except perhaps
+to embitter feelings on both sides.  From what I have known of you I
+cannot believe that you are indulging motives of revenge--but,
+otherwise, I must confess that I am at a loss.--Expecting to receive
+the letters by return, I am, yours truly,
+
+ROBERT TROJAN.
+
+
+
+9 SEA VIEW TERRACE, PENDRAGON, CORNWALL,
+  _October_ 14, 1906.
+
+Dear Mr. Trojan--Thank you for the locket, the ring, and the letters
+which I have received.  I regret that I must decline to part with the
+letters; surely it is not strange that I should wish to keep
+them.--Yours truly, DAHLIA FEVEREL.
+
+
+
+"THE FLUTES,"
+  _October_ 15, 1906.
+
+What do you mean?  You have no right to them.  They are mine.  I wrote
+them.  You serve no purpose by keeping them.  Please return them at
+once--by return.  I have done nothing to deserve this.  Unless you
+return them, I shall know that you are merely an intriguing--; no, I
+don't mean that.  Please send them back.  Suppose they should be
+seen?--In haste, R. T.
+
+
+
+9 SEA VIEW TERRACE, PENDRAGON, CORNWALL,
+  _October_ 15, 1906.
+
+My decision is unalterable.
+
+D. F.
+
+
+
+But Dahlia sat in the dreary little drawing-room watching the grey sea
+with a white face and hard, staring eyes.
+
+She had sat there all day.  She thought that soon she would go mad.
+She had not slept since her last meeting with Robin; she had scarcely
+eaten--she was too tired to think.
+
+The days had been interminable.  At first she had waited, expecting
+that he would come back.  A hundred impulses had been at work.  At
+first she had thought that she would go and tell him that she had not
+meant what she said; she would persuade him to come back, She would
+offer him the letters and tell him that she had meant nothing--they had
+been idle words.  But then she remembered some of the things that he
+had said, some of the stones that he had flung.  She was not good
+enough for him or his family; she had no right to expect that an
+alliance was ever possible.  His family despised her.  And then her
+thoughts turned from Robin to his family.  She had seen Clare often
+enough and had always disliked her.  But now she hated her so that she
+could have gladly killed her.  It was at her door that she laid all the
+change in Robin and her own misery.  She felt that she would do
+anything in the world to cause her pain.  She brooded over it in the
+shabby little room with her face turned to the sea.  How could she hurt
+her?  There were the others, too--the rest of the family--all except
+Robin's father, who was, she felt instinctively, different.  She
+thought that he would not have acted in that way.  And then her
+thoughts turned back to Robin, and for a moment she fancied that she
+hated him, and then she knew that she still loved him--and she stared
+at the grey sea with misery in her heart and a dull, sombre confusion
+in her brain.  No, she did not hate Robin, she did not really want to
+hurt him.  How could she, when they had had those wonderful months
+together?  Those months that seemed such centuries and centuries away.
+But, nevertheless, she kept the letters.  Her mother had talked about
+them, had advised her to keep them.  She did not mean to do anything
+very definite with them--she could not look ahead very far--but she
+would keep them for a little.
+
+When she had seen Robin's handwriting again it had been almost more
+than she could bear.  For some time she had been unable to tear open
+the envelope and speculated, confusedly, on the contents.  Perhaps he
+had repented.  She judged him by her own days and nights of utter
+misery and knew that, had it been herself, they would have driven her
+back crying to his feet.  Perhaps it was to ask for another interview.
+That she would refuse.  She felt that she could not endure another such
+meeting as their last; if he were to come to her without warning, to
+surprise her suddenly--her heart beat furiously at the thought; but the
+deliberate meeting merely for the purpose of his own advantage--no!
+
+She opened the letter, read the cold lines, and knew that it was
+utterly the end.  She had fancied, at their last meeting, that her
+love, like a bird shot through the heart, had fallen at his feet, dead;
+then, after those days of his absence, his figure had grown in her
+sight, glorified, resplendent, and love had revived again--now, with
+this letter she knew that it was over.  She did not cry, she scarcely
+moved.  She watched the sea, with the letter on her lap, and felt that
+a new Dahlia Feverel, a woman who would traffic no longer with
+sentiment, who knew the world for what it was--a hard, merciless prison
+with fiends for its gaolers--had sprung to birth.
+
+She replied to him and showed her mother her answer.  She scarcely
+listened to Mrs. Feverel's comments and went about her daily affairs,
+quietly, without confusion.  She saw herself and Robin like figures in
+a play--she applauded the comedy and the tragedy left her unmoved.
+Robin Trojan had much to answer for.
+
+He read her second letter with dismay.  He had spent the day in
+solitary confinement in his room, turning the situation round and round
+in his mind, lost in a perfect labyrinth of suggested remedies, none of
+which afforded him any outlet.  The thought of exposure was horrible;
+anything must be done to avoid that--disgrace to himself was bad
+enough; to be held up for laughter before his Cambridge friends,
+Randal, his London acquaintances--but disgrace to the family!  That was
+the awful thing!
+
+From his cradle this creed of the family had been taught him; he had
+learnt it so thoroughly that he had grown to test everything by that
+standard; it was his father's disloyalty to that creed that had roused
+the son's anger--and now, behold, the son was sinning more than the
+father!  It was truly ironic that, three days after his attacking a
+member of the family for betraying the family, he himself should be
+guilty of far greater betrayal!  How topsy-turvy the world seemed, and
+what was to be done?
+
+The brevity and conciseness of Dahlia's last letter left him in no
+doubt as to her intentions.  Breach of Promise!  The letters would be
+read in court, would be printed in the newspapers for all the world to
+see.  With youth's easy grasping of eternity, it seemed to him that his
+disgrace would be for ever.  Beddoes' "Death's Jest-book" was lying
+open on his knee.  Wolfram's song--
+
+  Old Adam, the carrion crow,
+      The old crow of Cairo;
+  He sat in the shower, and let it flow
+    Under his tail and over his crest;
+        And through every feather
+        Leaked the wet weather;
+  And the bough swung under his nest;
+  For his beak it was heavy with marrow.
+    Is that the wind dying?  Oh no;
+  It's only two devils, that blow
+  Through a murderer's bones, to and fro,
+      In the ghost's moonshine--
+
+had always seemed to him the most madly sinister verse in English
+literature.  It had been read to him by Randal at Cambridge and had had
+a curious fascination for him from the first.  He had found that the
+little bookseller at Worms had known it and had indeed claimed Beddoes
+for a German--now it seemed to warn him vaguely of impending disaster.
+
+He did not see that he himself could act any further in the matter; she
+would not see him and writing was useless.  And yet to leave the matter
+uncertain, waiting for the blow to fall, with no knowledge of the
+movements in the other camp, was not to be thought of.  He must do
+something.
+
+The moment had arrived when advice must be taken--but from whom?  His
+father was out of the question.  It was three days since the explosion,
+and there was an armed truce.  He had, in spite of himself, admired his
+father's conduct during the last three days, and he was surprised to
+find that it was his aunt and uncle rather than his father who had
+failed to carry off the situation.  He refused as yet to admit it to
+himself, but the three of them, his aunt, his uncle, and himself, had
+seemed almost frightened.  His father was another person; stern, cold,
+unfailingly polite, suddenly apparently possessed of those little
+courtesies in which he had seemed before so singularly lacking.  There
+had been conversation of a kind at meals, and it had always been his
+father who had filled awkward pauses and avoided difficult moments.
+The knowledge, too, that his father would, in a few months' time, be
+head of the house, was borne in upon him with new force; it might be
+unpleasant, but it would not, as he had formerly fancied, be ludicrous.
+A sign of his changed attitude was the fact that he rather resented
+Randal's letter and wished a little that he had not taken him into his
+confidence.
+
+Nevertheless, to ask advice of his father was impossible.  He must
+speak to his uncle and aunt.  How hard this would be only he himself
+knew.  He had never in their eyes failed, in any degree, towards the
+family honour.  From whatever side the House might be attacked, it
+would not be through him.  There was nothing in his past life, they
+thought, at which they would not care to look.
+
+He realised, too, Clare's love for him.  He had known from very early
+days that he counted for everything in her life; that her faith in the
+family centred in his own honour and that her hopes for the family were
+founded completely in his own progress--and now he must tell her this.
+
+He could not, he knew, have chosen a more unfortunate time.  The House
+had already been threatened by the conduct of the father; it was now to
+totter under blows dealt by the son.  The first crisis had been severe,
+this would be infinitely more so.  He hated himself for the first time
+in his life, and, in doing so, began for the first time to realise
+himself a little.
+
+Well, he must speak to them and ask them what was to be done, and the
+sooner it was over the better.  He put the Beddoes back into the shelf,
+and went to the windows.  It was already dark; light twinkled in the
+bay, and a line of white breakers flashed and vanished, keeping time,
+it seemed, with the changing gleam of the lighthouse far out to sea.
+His own room was dark, save for the glow of the fire.  They would be at
+tea; probably his father would not be there--the present would be a
+good time to choose.  He pulled his courage together and went
+downstairs.
+
+As he had expected, Garrett was having tea with Clare in her own
+room--the Castle of Intimacy, as Randal had once called it.  Garrett
+was reading; Clare was sitting by the fire, thinking.
+
+"She will soon have more to think about," thought Robin wretchedly.
+
+She looked up as he came in.  "Ah, Robin, that's splendid!  I was just
+going to send up for you.  Come and sit here and talk to me.  I've
+hardly seen you to-day."
+
+She had been very affectionate during the last three days--rather too
+affectionate, Robin thought.  He liked her better when she was less
+demonstrative.
+
+"Where have you been all the afternoon?"
+
+"In my room.  I've been busy."
+
+"Tea?  You don't mind it strong, do you, because it's been here a good
+long time?  Gingerbread cake especially for you."
+
+But gingerbread cake wasn't in the least attractive.  Beddoes suited
+him much better:--
+
+    Is that the wind dying?  Oh no;
+  It's only two devils, that blow
+  Through a murderer's bones, to and fro,
+    In the ghost's moonshine.
+
+
+"Do you know Beddoes, aunt?"
+
+"No, dear.  What kind of thing is it?  Poetry?"
+
+"Yes.  You wouldn't like it, though----only I've been reading him this
+afternoon.  He suited my mood."
+
+"Boys of your age shouldn't have moods."  This from Garrett.  "I never
+had."
+
+Robin took his tea without answering, and sat down on the opposite side
+of the fire to his aunt.  How was he to begin?  What was he to say?
+There followed an awful pause--life seemed to have been full of pauses
+lately.
+
+Clare was watching him anxiously.  How had his father's outbreak
+affected him?  She was afraid, from little things that she had seen,
+that he had been influenced.  Harry had been so different those last
+three days--she could not understand it.  She watched him eagerly,
+hungrily.  Why was he not still the baby that she could take on her
+knees and kiss and sentimentalise over?  He, too, she fancied, had been
+different during these last days.
+
+"More tea, Robin?  You'd better--it's a long while before dinner."
+
+"No, thanks, aunt.  I--that is--well, I've something I wanted to say."
+
+He turned round in his chair and faced the fire.  He would rather not
+look at her whilst he was speaking.  Garrett put down his book and
+looked up.  Was there going to be more worry?  What had happened lately
+to the world?  It seemed to have lost all proper respect for the Trojan
+position.  He could not understand it.  Clare drew her breath sharply.
+Her fears thronged about her, like shadows in the firelight--what was
+it? ...  Was it Harry?
+
+"What about, Robin?  Is anything the matter?"
+
+"Why, no--nothing really--it's only--that is--Oh, dash it all--it's
+awfully difficult."
+
+There was another silence.  The ticking of the clock drove Robin into
+further speech.
+
+"Well--I've made a bit of a mess.  I've been rather a fool and I want
+your advice."
+
+Another pause, but no assistance save a cold "Well?" from Garrett.
+
+"You see it was at Cambridge, last summer.  I was an awful fool, I
+know, but I really didn't know how far it was going until--well, until
+afterwards----"
+
+"Until--after what?" said Garrett.  "Would you mind being a little
+clearer, Robin?"
+
+"Well, it was a girl."  Robin stopped.  It sounded so horrible, spoken
+like that in cold blood.  He did not dare to look at his aunt, but he
+wondered what her face was like.  He pulled desperately at his tie, and
+hurried on.  "Nothing very bad, you know.  I meant, at first, anyhow--I
+met her at another man's--Grant of Clare--quite a good chap, and he
+gave a picnic--canaders and things up the river.  We had a jolly
+afternoon and she seemed awfully nice and--her mother wasn't there.
+Then--after that--I saw a lot of her.  Every one does at Cambridge--I
+mean see girls and all that kind of thing--and I didn't think anything
+of it--and she really _seemed_ awfully nice then.  There isn't much to
+do at Cambridge, except that sort of thing--really.  Then, after term,
+I came down here, and I began to write.  I'm afraid I was a bit silly,
+but I didn't know it then, and I used to write her letters pretty
+often, and she answered them.  And--well, you know the sort of thing,
+Uncle Garrett--I thought I loved her----"
+
+At this climax, Robin came to a pause, and hoped that they would help
+him, but they said no word until, at last, Garrett said impatiently,
+"Go on."
+
+"Well," continued Robin desperately, "that's really all--" knowing,
+however, that he had not yet arrived at the point of the story.
+"She--and her mother--came down to live here--and then, somehow, I
+didn't like her quite so much.  It seemed different down here, and her
+mother was horrid.  I began to see it differently, and at last, one
+night, I told her so.  Of course, I thought, naturally, that she would
+understand.  But she didn't--her mother was horrid--and she made a
+scene--it was all very unpleasant."  Robin was dragging his
+handkerchief between his fingers, and looking imploringly at the fire.
+"Then I went and saw her again and asked her for--my letters--she said
+she'd keep them--and I'm afraid she may use them--and--well, that's
+all," he finished lamely.
+
+He thought that hours of terrible silence followed his speech.  He sat
+motionless in his chair waiting for their words.  He was rather glad
+now that he had spoken.  It had been a relief to unburden himself; for
+so many days he had only had his own thoughts and suggestions to apply
+to the situation.  But he was afraid to look at his aunt.
+
+"You young fool," at last from Garrett.  "Who is the girl?"
+
+"A Miss Feverel--she lives with her mother at Sea view Terrace--there
+is no father."
+
+"Miss Feverel?  What!  That girl!  You wrote to her!  You----"
+
+At last his aunt had spoken.  He had never heard her speak like that
+before--the "You!" was a cry of horror.  She suddenly got up and went
+over to him.  She bent over him where he sat, with head lowered, and
+shook him by the shoulder.
+
+"Robin!  It can't be true--you haven't written to that girl!  Not
+love-letters!  It is incredible!"
+
+"It is true--" he said, looking up.  "Don't look at me like that, Aunt
+Clare.  It isn't so bad--other fellows----" but then he was ashamed and
+stopped.  He would leave his defence alone.
+
+"Is that all?" said Garrett.  "All you have done, I mean?  You haven't
+injured the girl?"
+
+"I swear that's all," Robin said eagerly.  "I meant no harm by it.  I
+wrote the letters without thinking I----"
+
+Clare stood leaning on the mantelpiece, her head between her hands.
+
+"I can't understand it.  I can't understand it," she said.  "It isn't
+like you--not a bit.  That girl and you--why, it's incredible!"
+
+"That's only because you had your fancy idea of him, Clare," said
+Garrett.  "We'd better pass the lamentation stage and decide what's to
+be done."
+
+For once Garrett seemed practical; he was pleased with himself for
+being so.  It had suddenly occurred to him that he was the only person
+who could really deal with the situation.  Clare was a woman, Harry was
+out of the question, Robin was a boy.
+
+"Have you spoken to your father?" he asked.
+
+"No.  Of course not!" Robin answered, rather fiercely.  "How could I?"
+
+Clare went back to her chair.  "That girl!  But, Robin, she's
+plain--quite--and her manners, her mother--everything impossible!"
+
+It was still incredible that Robin, the work of her hands as it were,
+into whom she had poured all things that were lovely and of good
+report, could have made love to an ordinary girl of the middle
+classes--a vulgar girl with a still more vulgar mother.
+
+But in spite of her vulgarity she was jealous of her.  "You don't care
+for her any longer, Robin?"
+
+"Now?--oh no--not for a long time--I don't think I ever did really.  I
+can't think how I was ever such a fool."
+
+"She still threatens Breach of Promise," said Garrett, whose mind was
+slowly working as to the best means of proving his practical utility.
+"That's the point, of course.  That the letters are there and that we
+have got to get them back.  What kind of letters were they?  Did you
+actually give her hopes?"
+
+Robin blushed.  "Yes, I'm afraid I did--as well as I can remember, and
+judging by her answers.  I said the usual sort of things----"  He
+paused.  It was best, he felt, to leave it vague.
+
+But Clare had scarcely arrived at the danger of it yet--the danger to
+the House.  Her present thought was of Robin; that she must alter her
+feelings about him, take him from his pedestal--a Trojan who could make
+love to any kind of girl!
+
+"I can't think of it now," she said; "it's confusing.  We must see
+what's to be done.  We'll talk about it some other time.  It's hard to
+see just at present."
+
+Garrett looked puzzled.  "It's a bit of a mess," he said.  "But we'll
+see----" and left the room with an air of importance.
+
+Robin turned to go, and then walked over to his aunt, and put his hand
+on her sleeve.
+
+"Don't think me such a rotter," he said.  "I am awfully sorry--it's
+about you that I care most--but I've learnt a lesson; I'll never do
+anything like that again."
+
+She smiled up at him, and took his hand in hers.
+
+"Why, old boy, no.  Of course I was a little surprised.  But I don't
+mind very much if you care for me in the same way.  That's all I have,
+Robin--your caring; and I don't think it matters very much what you do,
+if I still have that."
+
+"Of course you have," he said, and bent down and kissed her.  Then he
+left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+"I'm worse to-day," said Sir Jeremy, looking at Harry, "and I'll be off
+under a month."
+
+He seemed rather pathetic--the brave look had gone from his eyes, and
+his face and hands were more shrivelled than ever.  He gave the
+impression of cowering in bed as though wishing to avoid a blow.  Harry
+was with him continually now, and the old man was never happy if his
+son was not there.  He rambled at times and fancied himself back in his
+youth again.  Harry had found his father's room a refuge from the
+family, and he sat, hour after hour, watching the old man asleep,
+thinking of his own succession and puzzling over the hopeless tangle
+that seemed to surround him.  How to get out of it!  He had no longer
+any thought of turning his back; he had gone too far for that, and they
+would think it cowardice, but things couldn't remain as they were.
+What would come out of it?
+
+He had, as Robin had said, changed.  The effect of the explosion had
+been to reveal in him qualities whose very existence he had formerly
+never expected.  He even found, strangely enough, a kind of joy in the
+affair.  It was like playing a game.  He had made, he felt, the right
+move and was in the stronger position.  In earlier days he had never
+been able to quarrel with any one.  Whenever such a thing had happened,
+he had been the first to make overtures; he hated the idea of an enemy,
+his happiness depended on his friends, and sometimes now, when he saw
+his own people's hostility, he was near surrender.  But the memory of
+his sister's words had held him firm, and now he was beginning to feel
+in tune with the situation.
+
+He watched Robin furtively at times and wondered how he was taking it
+all.  Sometimes he fancied that he caught glances that pointed to
+Robin's own desire to see how _he_ was taking it.  Once they had passed
+on the stairs, and for a moment they had both paused as though they
+would speak.  It had been all Harry could do to restrain himself from
+flinging his arms on to his son's shoulders and shaking him for a fool
+and then forcing him into surrender, but he had held himself back, and
+they had passed on without a word.
+
+After all, what children they all were!  That's what it came
+to--children playing a game that they did not understand!
+
+"I wish it would end," said Sir Jeremy; "I'm getting damned sick of it.
+Why can't he take you out straight away, and be done with it?  Do you
+know, Harry, my boy, I think I'm frightened.  It's lying here thinking
+of it.  I never had much imagination--it isn't a Trojan habit, but it
+grows on one.  I fancy--well, what's the use o' talking?" and he sank
+back into his pillows again.
+
+The room was dark save for the leaping light of the fire.  It was
+almost time to dress for dinner, but Harry sat there, forgetting time
+and place in the unchanging question, How would it all work out?
+
+"By Gad, it's Tom!  Hullo, old man, I was just thinking of you.  Comin'
+round to Horrocks' to-night for a game?  Supper at Galiani's--but it's
+damned cold.  I don't know where that sun's got to.  I've been
+wandering up and down the street all day and I can't find the place.
+I've forgotten the number--I can't remember whether it was 23 or 33,
+and I keep getting into that passage.  There I am again!  Bring a
+light, old man--it's so dark.  What's that?  Who's there?  Can't you
+answer?  Darn you, come out, you----"  He sat up in bed, quivering all
+over.  Harry put his hand on his arm.
+
+"It's all right, father," he said.  "No one's here--only myself."
+
+"Ugh!  I was dreaming--" he answered, lying down again.  "Let's have
+some light--not that electric glare.  Candles!"
+
+Harry was sitting in the corner by the bed away from the fire.  He was
+about to rise and move the candles into a clump on the mantelpiece when
+there was a tap on the door and some one came in.  It was Robin.
+
+"Grandfather, are you awake?  Aunt Clare told me to look in on my way
+up to dress and see if you wanted anything?"
+
+The firelight was on his face.  He looked very young as he stood there
+by the bed.  His face was flushed in the light of the fire.  Harry's
+heart beat furiously, but he made no movement and said no word.
+
+Robin bent over the bed to catch his grandfather's answer, and he saw
+his father.
+
+"I beg your pardon."  he stammered.  "I didn't know----"  He waited for
+a moment as though he were going to say something, or expected his
+father to speak.  Then he turned and left the room.
+
+"Let's have the candles," said Sir Jeremy, as though he had not noticed
+the interruption, and Harry lit them.
+
+The old man sank off to sleep again, and Harry fell back into his own
+gloomy thoughts once more.  They were always meeting like that, and on
+each occasion there was need for the same severe self-control.  He had
+to remind himself continually of their treatment of him, of Robin's
+coldness and reserve.  At times he cursed himself for a fool, and then
+again it seemed the only way out of the labyrinth.
+
+His love for his son had changed its character.  He had no longer that
+desire for equality of which he had made, at first, so much.  No, the
+two generations could never see in line; he must not expect that.  But
+he thought of Robin as a boy--as a boy who had made blunders and would
+make others again, and would at last turn to his father as the only
+person who could help him.  He had fancied once or twice that he had
+already begun to turn.
+
+Well, he would be there if Robin wanted him.  He had decided to speak
+to Mary about it.  Her clear common-sense point of view seemed to
+drive, like the sun, through the mists of his obscurity; she always saw
+straight through things--never round them--and her practical mind
+arrived at a quicker solution than was possible for his rather
+romantic, quixotic sentiment.
+
+"You are too fond of discerning pleasant motives," she had once said to
+him.  "I daresay they are all right, but it takes such a time to see
+them."
+
+He had not seen her since the outbreak, and he was rather anxious as to
+her opinion; but the main thing was to be with her.  Since last Sunday
+he had been, he confessed to himself, absurd.  He had behaved more in
+the manner of a boy of nineteen than a middle-aged widower of
+forty-five.  He had been suddenly afraid of the Bethels--going to tea
+had seemed such an obvious advance on his part that he had shrunk from
+it, and he had even avoided Bethel lest that gentleman should imagine
+that he was on the edge of a proposal for his daughter's hand.  He
+thought that all the world must know of it, and he blushed like a girl
+at the thought of its being laid bare for Pendragon to laugh and gibe
+it.  It was so precious, so wonderful, that he kept it, like a rich
+piece of jewellery, deep in a secret drawer, over which he watched
+delightedly, almost humorously, secure in the delicious knowledge that
+he alone had the key.  He wandered out at night, like a foolish
+schoolboy, to watch the lamp in her room--that dull circle of golden
+light against the blind seemed to draw him with it into the intimacy
+and security of her room.
+
+On one of his solitary afternoon walks he suddenly came upon her.  He
+had gone, as he so often did, over the moor to the Four Stones; he
+chose that place partly because of the Stones themselves and partly
+because of the wonderful view.  It seemed to him that the whole heart
+of Cornwall--its mystery, its eternal sameness, its rejection of
+everything that was modern and ephemeral, the pathos of old deserted
+altars and past gods searching for their old-time worshippers--was
+centred there.
+
+The Stones themselves stood on the hill, against the sky, gaunt, grey,
+menacing, a landmark for all the country-side.  The moor ran here into
+a valley between two lines of hill, a cup bounded on three sides by the
+hills and on the fourth by the sea.  In the spring it flamed, a bowl of
+fire, with the gorse; now it stood grim and naked to all the winds,
+blue in the distant hills, a deep red to the right, where the plough
+had been, brown and grey on the moor itself running down to the sea.
+
+It was full of deserted things, as is ever the way with the true
+Cornwall.  On the hill were the Stones sharp against the sky-line;
+lower down, in a bend of the valley, stood the ruins of a mine, the
+shaft and chimney, desolately solitary, looking like the pillars of
+some ancient temple that had been fashioned by uncouth worshippers.  In
+the valley itself stood the stones of what was once a chapel--built,
+perhaps, for the men of the desolate mine, inhabited now by rabbits and
+birds, its windows spaces where the winds that swept the moor could
+play their eternal, restless games.
+
+On a day of clouds there was no colour on the moor, but when the sun
+was out great bands of light swept its surface, playing on the Stones
+and changing them to marble, striking colour from the mine and filling
+the chapel with gold.  But the sun did not reach that valley on many
+days when the rest of the world was alight--it was as if it respected
+the loneliness of its monuments and the pathos of them.
+
+Harry sat on the side of the hill, below the Stones, and watched the
+sea.  At times a mist came and hid it; on sunny days, when the sky was
+intensely blue, there hung a dazzling haze like a golden veil and he
+could only tell that the sea was there by the sudden gleam of tiny
+white horses, flashing for a moment on the mirror of blue and shining
+through the haze; sometimes a gull swerved through the air above his
+head as though a wave had lost its bounds and, for sheer joy of the
+beautiful day, had flung itself tossing and wheeling into the air.
+
+But to-day was a day of wind and rapidly sailing clouds, and myriads of
+white horses curved and tossed and vanished over the shifting colours
+of the sea; there were wonderful shadows of dark blue and purple and
+green of such depth that they seemed unfathomable.
+
+Suddenly he saw Mary coming towards him.  A scarf--green like the green
+of the sea--was tied round her hat and under her chin and floated
+behind her.  Her dress was blown against her body, and she walked as
+though she loved the battling with the wind.  Her face was flushed with
+the struggle, and she had come up to him before she saw that he was
+there.
+
+"Now, that's luck," she said, laughing, as she sat down beside him;
+"I've been wanting to see you ever since yesterday afternoon, but you
+seemed to have hidden yourself.  It doesn't sound a very long time,
+does it?  But I've something to tell you--rather important."
+
+"What?" He looked at her and suddenly laughed.  "What a splendid place
+for us to meet--its solitude is almost unreal."
+
+"As to solitude," she said calmly, pointing down the valley.  "There's
+Tracy Corridor; it will be all over the Club to-night--he's been
+watching us for some time"; a long thin youth, his head turned in their
+direction, had passed down the footpath towards its ruined chapel, and
+was rapidly vanishing in the direction of Pendragon.
+
+"Well--let them," said Harry, shrugging his shoulders.  "You don't
+mind, do you?"
+
+"Not a bit," she answered lightly.  "They've discussed the Bethel
+family so frequently and with such vigour that a little more or less
+makes no difference whatsoever.  Pendragon taboo! we won't dishonour
+the sea by such a discussion in its sacred presence."
+
+"What do you want to tell me?" he asked, watching delightedly the
+colour of her face, the stray curls that the wind dragged from
+discipline and played games with, the curve of her wrist as her hand
+lay idly in her lap.
+
+"Oh, it'll keep," she said quickly.  "Never mind just yet.  Tell me
+about yourself--what's happened?"
+
+"How did you know that anything had?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, one can tell," she answered.  "Besides, I have felt sure that it
+would, things couldn't go on just as they were----" she paused a moment
+and then added seriously, "I hope you don't mind my asking?  It seems a
+little impertinent--but that was part of the compact, wasn't it?"
+
+"Why, of course," he said.
+
+"Because, you know," she went on, "it's really rather absurd.  I'm only
+twenty-six, and you're--oh!  I don't know _how_ old!--anyhow an elderly
+widower with a grown-up son; but I'm every bit as old as you are,
+really.  And I'm sure I shall give you lots of good advice, because
+you've no idea what a truly practical person I am.  Only sometimes
+lately I've wondered whether you've been a little surprised at my--our
+flinging ourselves into your arms as we have done.  It's like
+father--he always goes the whole way in the first minute; but it isn't,
+or at any rate it oughtn't to be, like me!"
+
+"You are," he said quietly, "the best friend I have in the world.  How
+much that means to me I will tell you one day."
+
+"That's right," she said gaily, settling herself down with her hands
+folded behind her head.  "Now for the situation.  I'm all attention."
+
+"Well," he answered, "the situation is simple enough--it's the next
+move that's puzzling me.  There was, four days ago, an explosion--it
+was after breakfast--a family council--and I was in a minority of one.
+I was accused of a good many things--going down to the Cove, paying no
+attention to the Miss Ponsonbys, and so on.  They attacked me as I
+thought unfairly, and I lost control--on the whole, I am sure, wisely.
+I wasn't very rude, but I said quite plainly that I should go my own
+way in the future and would be dictated to by no one.  At any rate they
+understand that."
+
+"And now?"
+
+"Ah, now--well--it's as you would expect.  We are quite polite but
+hostile.  Robin and I don't speak.  The new game--Father and Son; or
+how to cut your nearest relations with expedition and security."  He
+laughed bitterly.
+
+"Oh, I should like to shake him!" she cried, sitting up and flinging
+her arms wide, as though she were saluting the sea.  "He doesn't know,
+he doesn't understand!  Neither himself nor any one else.  Oh, I will
+talk to him some day!  But, do you know," she said, turning round to
+him, "it's been largely your fault from the beginning."
+
+"Oh, I know," he answered.  "If I had only seen then what I see now.
+But how could I?  How could I tell?  But I always have been that kind
+of man, all my days--finding out things when it's too late and wanting
+to mend things that are hopelessly broken.  And then I have always been
+impulsive and enthusiastic about people.  When I meet them first, I
+mean, I like them and credit them with all the virtues, and then, of
+course, there is an awakening.  Oh, you don't know," he said, with a
+little laugh, "how enthusiastic I was when I first came back."
+
+"Yes, I do," she answered; "that was one of the reasons I took to you."
+
+"But it isn't right," he said, shaking his head.  "I've always been
+like that.  It's been the same with my friendships.  I've rated them
+too highly.  I've expected everything and then cried like a child
+because I've been disappointed.  I can see now not only the folly of
+it, but the weakness.  It is, I suppose, a mistake, caring too much for
+other people, one loses one's self-respect."
+
+"Yes," she said, staring out to sea, "it's quite true--one does.  The
+world's too hard; it doesn't give one credit for fine feelings--it
+takes a short cut and thinks one a fool."
+
+"But the worst of it is," he went on ruefully, "that I never feel any
+older.  I have those enthusiasms and that romance in the same way now
+at forty-five--just as I did at nineteen.  I never could bear
+quarrelling with anybody.  I used to go and apologise even when it
+wasn't my fault--so that, you see, the present situation is difficult."
+
+"Ah, but you must keep your end up," she broke in quickly.  "It's the
+only way--don't give in.  Robin is just like that.  He is self-centred,
+all shams now, and when he sees that you are taken in by them, just as
+he is himself, he despises you.  But when he sees you laugh at them or
+cut them down, then he respects you.  I'm the only person, I think,
+that knows him really here.  The others haven't grasped him at all."
+
+"My father grows worse every day," Harry went on, as though pursuing
+his own train of thought.  "He can't last much longer, and when he goes
+I shall miss him terribly.  We have understood each other during this
+fortnight as we never did in all those early years.  Sometimes I funk
+it utterly--following him with all of them against me."
+
+"Why, no," she cried.  "It's splendid.  You are in power.  They can do
+nothing, and Robin will come round when he sees how you face it out.
+Why, I expect that he's coming already.  I've faced things out here all
+these years, and you dare to say that you can't stand a few months of
+it."
+
+"What have you faced?" he asked.  "Tell me exactly.  I want to know all
+about you; you've never told me very much, and it's only fair that I
+should know."
+
+"Yes," she said gravely, "it is--well, you shall!--at least a part of
+it.  A woman always keeps a little back," she said, looking at him with
+a smile.  "As soon as she ceases to be a puzzle she ceases to interest."
+
+She turned and watched the sea.  Then, after a moment's pause, she said:
+
+"What do you want to know?  I can only give you bits of things--when,
+for instance, I ran away from my nurse, aged five, was picked up by an
+applewoman with a green umbrella who introduced me to three old ladies
+with black pipes and moustaches--I was found in a coal cellar.  Then we
+lived in Bloomsbury--a little house looking out on to a little green
+park--all in miniature it seems on looking back.  I don't think that I
+was a very good child, but they didn't look after me very much.  Mother
+was always out, and father in business.  Fancy," she said, laughing,
+"father in business!  We were happy then, I think, all of us.  Then
+came the terrible time when father ran away."
+
+"Ah, yes," Harry said, "he told me."
+
+"Poor mother! it was quite dreadful; I was only eight then, and I
+didn't understand.  But she sat up all night waiting for him.  She was
+persuaded that he was killed, and she was very ill.  You see he had
+never left any word as to where he was.  And then he suddenly turned up
+again, and ate an enormous breakfast, as though nothing had happened.
+I don't think he realised a bit that she had worried.
+
+"It was so like him, the naked selfishness of it and the utter
+unresponsibility, as of a child.
+
+"Then I went to school--in Bloomsbury somewhere.  It was a Miss Pinker,
+and she was interested in me.  Poor thing, her school failed
+afterwards.  I don't know quite why, but she never could manage, and I
+don't think parents ever paid her.  I had great ideas of myself then; I
+thought that I would be great, an actress or a novelist, but I got rid
+of all that soon enough.  I was happy; we had friends, and luxuries
+were rare enough to make them valuable.  Then--we came down here--this
+sea, this town, this moor--Oh! how I hate them!"
+
+Her hands were clenched and her face was white.  "It isn't fair; they
+have taken everything from me--leisure, brain, friends.  I have had to
+slave ever since I came here to make both ends meet.  Ah! you never
+knew that, did you?  But father has never done a stroke of work since
+he has been here, and mother has never been the same since that night
+when he ran away; so I've had it all--and it has been scrape, scrape,
+scrape all the time.  You don't know the tyranny of butter and eggs and
+vegetables, the perpetual struggle to turn twice two into five, the
+unending worry about keeping up appearances--although, for us, it
+mattered precious little, people never came to see if appearances were
+kept.
+
+"They called at first; I think they meant to be kind, but father was
+sometimes rude and never seemed to know whether he had met a person
+before or no.  Then he was idle, they thought, and they disliked him
+for that.  We gave some little parties, but they failed miserably, and
+at last people always refused.  And, really, it was rather a good
+thing, because we hadn't got the money.  I suppose I'm a bad manager;
+at any rate, whatever it is, things have been getting worse and worse,
+and one day soon there'll be an explosion, and that will be the end.
+We're up to our eyes in debt.  I try to talk to father about it, but he
+waves it away with his hand.  They have, neither of them, the least
+idea of money.  You see, father doesn't need very much himself, except
+for buying books.  He had ten pounds last week--housekeeping money to
+be given to me; he saw an edition of something that he wanted, and the
+money was gone.  We've been living on cabbages ever since.  That's the
+kind of thing that's always happening.  I wanted to talk to him about
+things this morning, but he said that he had an important engagement.
+Now he's out on the moor somewhere flying his kite----"
+
+She was leaning forward, her chin on her hand, staring out to sea.
+
+"It takes the beans out of life, doesn't it?" she said, laughing.  "You
+must think me rather a poor thing for complaining like this, only it
+does some good sometimes to get rid of it, and really at times I'm
+frightened when I think of the end, the disgrace.  If we are proclaimed
+bankrupts it will kill mother.  Father, of course, will soon get over
+it."
+
+"I say--I'm so sorry."  Harry scarcely knew what to say.  She was not
+asking for sympathy; he saw precisely her position--that she was too
+proud to ask for his help, but that she must speak.  No, sympathy was
+not what she wanted.  He suddenly hated Bethel--the selfishness of it,
+the hopeless egotism.  It was, Harry decided, the fools and not the
+villains who spoilt life.
+
+"I want you to do me a favour," he said.  "I want you to promise me
+that, before the end actually comes, if it is going to come, you will
+ask me to help you.  I won't offer to do anything now--I will stand
+aside until you want me; but you won't be proud if it comes to the
+worst, will you?  Do you promise?  You see," he added, trying to laugh
+lightly, "we are chums."
+
+"Yes," she answered quietly, "I promise.  Here's my hand on it."
+
+As he took her hand in his it was all he could do to hold himself back.
+A great wave of passion seized him, his body trembled from head to
+foot, and he grew very white.  He was crying, "I love you, I love you,
+I love you," but he kept the words from his lips--he would not speak
+yet.
+
+"Thank you," was all that he said, and he stood up to hide his
+agitation.
+
+For a little they did not speak.  They both felt that, in that moment,
+they had touched on things that were too sacred for speech; he seemed
+so strong, so splendid in her eyes, as he stood there, facing the sea,
+that she was suddenly afraid.
+
+"Let us go back," she said.  They turned down the crooked path towards
+the ruined chapel.
+
+"What was the news that you had for me?" he asked suddenly.
+
+"Why, of course," she answered; "I meant to have told you before."
+Then, more gravely, "It's about Robin----"
+
+"About Robin?"
+
+"Yes.  I don't know really whether I ought to tell you, because, after
+all, it's only chatter and mother never gets stories right--she manages
+to twist them into the most amazing shapes."
+
+"No.  Tell me," he insisted.
+
+"Well--there's a person whom mother knows--Mrs. Feverel.  Odious to my
+mind, but mother sees something of her."
+
+"A lady?"
+
+"No--by no means; a gloomy, forbidding person who would like to get a
+footing here if she could, and is discontented because people won't
+know her.  You see," she added, "we can only know the people that other
+people don't know.  This Mrs. Feverel has a daughter--rather a pretty
+girl, about eighteen--I should think she might be rather nice.  I am a
+little sorry for her--there isn't a father.
+
+"Well--these people have, in some way, entangled Robin.  I don't quite
+know the right side of it, but mother was having tea with Mrs. Feverel
+yesterday afternoon and that good woman hinted a great deal at the
+power that she now had over your family.  For some time she was
+mysterious, but at last she unburdened herself.
+
+"Apparently, Master Robin had been making advances to the girl in the
+summer, and now wants to back out of it.  He had, I gather, written
+letters, and it was to these that Mrs. Feverel was referring----"
+
+Harry drew a long breath.  "I'm damned," he said.
+
+"Oh, of course, I don't know," she went on; "you see, it may have been
+garbled.  Mrs. Feverel is, I should think, just the person to hint
+suspicions for which there's no ground at all.  Only it won't do if
+she's going to whisper to every one in Pendragon--I thought you ought
+to be warned----"
+
+Harry was thinking hard.  "The young fool," he said.  "But it's just
+what I've been wanting.  This is just where I can come in.  I knew
+something has been worrying him lately.  I could see it.  I believe
+he's been in two minds as to telling me--only he's been too proud.
+But, of course, he will have to tell some one.  A youngster like that
+is no match for a girl and her mother of the class these people seem to
+be.  He will confide in his aunt--"  He stopped and burst into
+uncontrollable laughter.  "Oh!  The humour of it--don't you see?
+They'll be terrified--it will threaten the honour of the House.  They
+will all go running round to get the letters back; that girl will have
+a good time--and that, of course, is just where I come in."
+
+"I don't see," said Mary.
+
+"Why, it's just what I've been watching for.  Harry Trojan
+arrives--Harry Trojan is no good--Harry Trojan is despised--but
+suddenly he holds the key to the situation.  Presto!  The family on
+their knees----"
+
+Mary looked at him in astonishment.  It was, she thought, unlike him to
+exult like this over the misfortunes of his sister; she was a little
+disappointed.  "It is really rather serious," she said, "for your
+sister, I mean.  You know what Pendragon is.  If they once get wind of
+the affair there will be a great deal of talk."
+
+"Ah, yes!" he said gravely.  "You mustn't think me a brute for laughing
+like that.  But I'm thinking of Robin.  If you knew how I cared for the
+boy--what this means.  Why, it brings him to my feet--if I carry the
+thing out properly."  Then quickly, "You don't think they've got back
+the letters already?"
+
+"They haven't had time--unless they've gone to-day.  Besides, the
+girl's not likely to give them up easily.  But, of course, I don't
+really know if that's how the case lies--mother's account was very
+confused.  Only I am certain that Mrs. Feverel thinks she has a pull
+somewhere; and she said something about letters."
+
+"I will go at once," Harry said, walking quickly.  "I can never be
+grateful enough to you.  Where do they live?"
+
+"10 Seaview Terrace," she answered.  "A little dingy street past the
+church and Breadwater Place--it faces the sea."
+
+"And the girl--what is she like?"
+
+"I've only seen her about twice.  I should say tall, thin, dark--rather
+wonderful eyes in a very pale face; dresses rather well in an aesthetic
+kind of way."
+
+He said very little more, and she did not interrupt his thoughts.  She
+was surprised to find that she was a little jealous of Robin, the
+interest in her own affairs had been very sweet to her, the remembrance
+of it now sent the blood to her cheeks, but this news seemed to have
+driven his thought for her entirely out of his head.
+
+Suddenly, at the bend of the little lane leading up to the town, they
+came upon her father, flying a huge blue kite.  The kite soared above
+his head; he watched it, his body bent back, his arm straining at the
+cord.  He saw them and pulled it in.
+
+"Hullo!  Trojan, how are you?  You ought to do this.  It's the most
+splendid fun--you've no idea.  This wind is glorious.  I shan't be home
+till dark, Mary----" and they left him, laughing like a boy.  She gave
+him further directions as to the house, and they parted.  She felt a
+little lonely as she watched him hurrying down the street.  He seemed
+to have forgotten her completely.  "Mary Bethel, you're a selfish pig,"
+she said, as she climbed the stairs to her room.  "Of course, he cares
+more about his son--why not?"  But nevertheless she sighed, and then
+went down to make tea for her mother, who was tired and on the verge of
+tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+As he passed through the town all his thoughts were of his splendid
+fortune.  This was the very thing for which he had been hoping, the key
+to all his difficulties.
+
+The dusk was creeping down the streets.  A silver star hung over the
+roofs silhouetted black against the faint blue of the night sky.  The
+lamps seemed to wage war with the departing daylight; the after-glow of
+the setting sun fluttered valiantly for a little, and then, yielding
+its place to the stronger golden circles stretching like hanging moons
+down the street, vanished.
+
+The shops were closing.  Worthley's Hosiery was putting up the shutters
+and a boy stood in the doorway, yawning; there had been a sale and the
+shop was tired.  Midgett's Bookshop at the corner of the High Street
+was still open and an old man with spectacles and a flowing beard stood
+poring over the odd-lot box at 2d. a volume by the door.
+
+The young man who advised ladies as to the purchase of six-shilling
+novels waited impatiently.  He had hoped to be off by six to-night.  He
+had an appointment at seven--and now this old man....  "We close at
+six, sir," he said.  But the old gentleman did not hear.  He bent lower
+and lower until his beard almost swept the pavement.  Harry passed on.
+
+All these things passed like shadows before Harry; he noticed them, but
+they fitted into the pattern of his thoughts, forming a frame round his
+great central idea--that at last he had his chance.
+
+There was no fear in his mind that he would not get the letters.  There
+was, of course, the chance that Clare had been before him, but then, as
+Mary had said, she had scarcely had time, and it was not likely that
+the girl would give them up easily.  It was just possible, too, that
+the whole affair was a mistake, that Mrs. Feverel had merely boasted
+for the sake of impressing old Mrs. Bethel, that there was little or
+nothing behind it, but that was unlikely.
+
+He had formed no definite decision as to the method of his attack; he
+must wait and see how the land lay.  A great deal depended on the
+presence of the mother--the girl, too, might be so many different
+things; he was not even certain of her age.  If there was nothing in
+it, he would look a fool, but he must risk that.  A wild idea came into
+his head that he might, perhaps, find Clare there--that would be
+amusing.  He imagined them bidding for the letters, and that brought
+him to the point that money would be necessary--well, he was ready to
+pay a good deal, for it was Robin for whom he was bidding.
+
+He found the street without any difficulty.  Its dinginess was obvious,
+and now, with a little wind whistling round its corners and whirling
+eddies of dust in the road, its three lamps at long distances down the
+street, the monotonous beat of the sea beyond the walls, it was
+depressing and sad.
+
+It reminded him of the street in Auckland where he had heard the
+strange voice; it was just such another moment now--the silence bred
+expectancy and the sea was menacing.
+
+"I shall get the shivers if I don't move," he said, and rang the bell.
+
+The slatternly servant that he had expected to see answered the bell,
+and the tap-tap of her down-at-heels slippers sounded along the passage
+as she departed to see if Mrs. Feverel would see him.
+
+He waited in the draughty hall; it was so dark that coats and hats
+loomed, ghostly shapes, by the farther wall.  A door opened, there was
+sound of voices--a moment's pause, then the door closed and the maid
+appeared at the head of the stairs.
+
+"The missis says you can come up," she said ungraciously.
+
+She eyed him curiously as he passed her, and scented drama in the set
+of his shoulders and the twitch of his fingers.
+
+"A military!" she concluded, and tap-tapped down again into the kitchen.
+
+A low fire was burning in the grate and the blind napped against the
+window.  The draught blew the everlastings on the mantelpiece together
+with a little dry, dusty sound like the rustle of a breeze in dried
+twigs.
+
+Mrs. Feverel sat bending over the fire, and he thought as he saw her
+that it would need a very great fire indeed to put any warmth into her.
+Her black hair, parted in the middle, was bound back tightly over her
+head and confined by a net.
+
+She shook hands with him solemnly, and then waited as though she
+expected an explanation.
+
+Harry smiled.  "I'm afraid, Mrs. Feverel," he said, "that you may think
+this extraordinary.  I can only offer as apology your acquaintance with
+my son."
+
+"Ah yes--Mr. Robert Trojan."
+
+Her mouth closed with a snap and she waited, with her hands folded on
+her lap, for him to say something further.
+
+"You knew him, I think, at Cambridge in the summer?"
+
+"Yes, my daughter and I were there in the summer."
+
+Harry paused.  It would be harder than he expected, and where was the
+daughter?
+
+"Cambridge is very pleasant in the summer?" he asked, his resolution
+weakening rapidly before her impassivity.
+
+"My daughter and I found it so.  But, of course, it depends----"
+
+It depended, he reflected, on such people as his son--boys whom they
+could cheat at their ease.  He had no doubt at all now that the mother
+was an adventuress of the common, melodrama type.  He suspected the
+girl of being the same.  It made things in some ways much simpler,
+because money would, probably, settle everything; there would be no
+question of fine feelings.  He knew exactly how to deal with such
+women, he had known them in New Zealand; but he was amused as he
+contemplated Clare's certain failure--such a woman was entirely outside
+her experience.
+
+He came to the point at once.
+
+"My being here is easily explained.  I learn, Mrs. Feverel, that my son
+formed an attachment for your daughter during last summer.  He wrote
+some letters now in your daughter's possession.  His family are
+naturally anxious that those letters should be returned.  I have come
+to see what can be done about the matter."  He paused--but she said
+nothing, and remained motionless by the fire.
+
+"Perhaps," he said slowly, "you would prefer, Mrs. Feverel, to name a
+possible price yourself?"
+
+Afterwards, on looking back, he felt that his expectations had been
+perfectly justified; she had, up to that point, given him every reason
+to take the line that he adopted.  She had listened to the first part
+of his speech without remark; she must, he reflected afterwards, have
+known what was coming, yet she had given no sign that she heard.
+
+And so the change in her was startling and took him utterly by surprise.
+
+She looked up at him from her chair, and the thin ghost of a smile that
+crept round the corners of her mouth, faced him for a moment, and then
+vanished suddenly, was the strangest thing that he had ever seen.
+
+"Don't you think, Mr. Trojan, that that is a little insulting?"
+
+It made him feel utterly ashamed.  In her own house, in her
+drawing-room, he had offered her money.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he stammered.
+
+"Yes," she answered slowly.  "You had rather misconceived the
+situation."
+
+Harry felt that her silences were the most eloquent that he had ever
+known.  He began to be very frightened, and, for the first time,
+conceived the possibility of not securing the letters at all.  The
+thought that his hopes might be dashed to the ground, that he might be
+no nearer his goal at the end of the interview than before, sharpened
+his wits.  It was to be a deal in subtlety rather than the obvious
+thing that he had expected--well, he would play it to the end.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said again.  "I have been extremely rude.  I am
+only recently returned from abroad, and my knowledge of the whole
+affair is necessarily very limited.  I came here with a very vague idea
+both as to yourself and your intentions.  In drawing the conclusions
+that I did I have done both you and your daughter a grave injustice,
+for which I humbly apologise.  I may say that, before coming here, I
+had had no interview with my son.  I am, therefore, quite ignorant as
+regards facts."
+
+He did not feel that his apology had done much good.  He felt that she
+had accepted both his insult and apology quite calmly, as though she
+had regarded them inevitably.
+
+"The facts," she said, looking down again at the fire, "are quite
+simple.  My daughter and your son became acquainted at Cambridge in May
+last.  They saw a great deal of each other during the next few months.
+At the end of that time they were engaged.  Mr. Robert Trojan gave us
+to understand that he was about to acquaint his family with the fact.
+They corresponded continually during the summer--letters, I believe, of
+the kind common to young people in love.  Mr. Robert Trojan spoke
+continually of the marriage and suggested dates.  We then came down
+here, and, soon after our arrival, I perceived a change in your son's
+attitude.  He came to see us very rarely, and at last ceased his visits
+altogether.  My daughter was naturally extremely upset, and there were
+several rather painful interviews.  He then wrote returning her letters
+and demanding the return of his own.  This she definitely refused.
+Those are the facts, Mr. Trojan."
+
+She had spoken without any emotion, and evidently expected that he
+should do the same.
+
+"I have come," he said, "on behalf of my son to demand the return of
+those letters."
+
+"Demand?"
+
+"Naturally.  Letters, Mrs. Feverel, of that kind are dangerous things
+to leave about."
+
+"Yes?"  She smiled.  "Dangerous for whom?  I think you forget a little,
+Mr. Trojan, in your anxiety for your son's welfare, my daughter's side
+of the question.  She naturally treasures what represents to her the
+happiest months of her existence.  You must remember that your son's
+conduct--shall I call it desertion?--was a terrible blow.  She loved
+him, Mr. Trojan, with all her heart.  Is it not right that he should
+suffer a little as well?"
+
+"I refuse to believe," he answered sharply, "that this is all a matter
+of sentiment.  I regret extremely that my son should have behaved in
+such a cowardly and dastardly manner--it has hurt and surprised me more
+than I can say--but, were that all, it were surely better to bury the
+whole affair as soon as may be.  I cannot believe that you are keeping
+the letters with no intention of making public use of them."
+
+"Ah," said Mrs. Feverel, "I wonder."
+
+"Hadn't we better come to a clear understanding, Mrs. Feverel?" he
+asked.  "We are neither of us children, and this beating about the bush
+serves no purpose whatever.  If you refuse to return the letters, I
+have at least the right to ask what you mean to do with them."
+
+"Here is my daughter," she answered, "she shall speak for herself."
+
+He turned round at the sound of the opening door, and watched her as
+she came in.  She was very much as he had imagined--thin and tall,
+walking straight from the hips, giving a little the impression that she
+was standing on her toes.  Her eyes seemed amazingly dark in the
+whiteness of her face.  She seemed a little older than he had
+expected--perhaps twenty-five or twenty-six.
+
+She looked at him sharply as she entered and then came forward to her
+mother.  He could see that she was agitated--her breath came quickly,
+and her hands folded and unfolded as though she were tearing something
+to pieces.
+
+"This," said Mrs. Feverel, "is my daughter, Mr. Trojan.  My dear, Mr.
+Henry Trojan."
+
+She bowed and sat down opposite her mother.  He thought she looked
+rather pathetic as she faced him; here was no adventuress, no schemer.
+He began to feel that his son had behaved brutally, outrageously.
+
+Mrs. Feverel rose.  "I will leave you, my dear.  Mr. Trojan will tell
+you for what he has come."
+
+She moved slowly from the room and Harry drew a breath of relief at her
+absence.  There was a moment's pause.  "I hope you will forgive me,
+Miss Feverel," he said gently.  "I'm afraid that both your mother and
+yourself must regard this as impertinent, but, at the same time, I
+think you will understand."
+
+She seemed to have regained her composure.  "It is about Robin, I
+suppose?"
+
+"Yes.  Could you tell me exactly what the relations between you were?"
+
+"We were engaged," she answered simply, "last summer at Cambridge.  He
+broke off the engagement."
+
+"Yes--but I understand that you intend to keep his letters?"
+
+"That is quite true."
+
+"I have come to ask you to restore them."
+
+"I am sorry.  I am afraid that it is a waste of time.  I shall not go
+back on my word."
+
+He could not understand what her game was--he was not sure that she had
+a game at all; she seemed very helpless, and, at the same time, he felt
+that there was strength behind her answers.  He was at a loss; his
+experience was of no value to him at all.
+
+"I am going to beg you to alter your decision.  I am pleading with you
+in a matter that is of the utmost importance to me.  Robin is my only
+son.  He has behaved abominably, and you can understand that it has
+been rather a blow to me to return after twenty years' absence and find
+him engaged in such an affair.  But he is very young, and--pardon
+me--so are you.  I am an older man and my experience of the world is
+greater than yours; believe me when I say that you will regret
+persistence in your refusal most bitterly in later years.  It seems to
+me a crisis--a crisis, perhaps, for all of us.  Take an older man's
+word for it; there is only one possible course for you to adopt."
+
+"Really, Mr. Trojan," she said, laughing, "you are intensely serious.
+Last week I thought that my heart was broken; but now--well, it takes a
+lot to break a heart.  I am sure that you will be glad to hear that my
+appetite has returned.  As to the letters--why, think how pleasant it
+will be for me to sentimentalise over them in my old age!  Surely, that
+is sufficient motive."
+
+She was trying to speak lightly, but her lip quivered.
+
+"You are running a serious risk, Miss Feverel," he answered gravely.
+"Your intention is, I imagine, to punish Robin.  I can assure you that
+in a few years' time he will be punished enough.  He scarcely realises
+as yet what he has done.  That knowledge will come to him later."
+
+"Poor Robin!" she said.  "Yes, he ought to feel rather a worm now; he
+has written me several very agitated letters.  But really I cannot help
+it.  The affair is over--done with.  I regard the letters as my
+personal property.  I cannot see that it is any one else's business at
+all."
+
+"Of course it is our business," he answered seriously.  "Those letters
+must be destroyed.  I do not accuse you of any deliberate malicious
+intentions, but there is, as far as I can see, only one motive in your
+keeping them.  I have not seen them, but from what I have heard I
+gather that they contain definite promise of marriage.  Your case is a
+strong one."
+
+"Yes," she laughed.  "Poor Robin's enthusiasm led him to some very
+violent expressions of affection.  But, Mr. Trojan, revenge is sweet.
+Every woman, I think, likes it, and I am no exception to my sex.
+Aren't you a little unfair in claiming all the pleasure and none of the
+pain?"
+
+"No," he answered firmly.  "I am not.  It is as much for your own sake
+as for his that I am making my claim.  You cannot see things in fair
+proportion now; you will bitterly regret the step you contemplate
+taking."
+
+"Well, I am sure," she replied, "it is very good of you to think of me
+like that.  I am deeply touched--you seem to take quite a fatherly
+interest."  She lay back in her chair and watched him with eyes half
+closed.
+
+He was beginning to believe that it was no pose after all, and his
+anger rose.
+
+"Come, Miss Feverel," he said, "let's have done with playing--let us
+come to terms.  It is a matter of vital importance that I should
+receive the letters.  I am ready to go some lengths to obtain them.
+What are your terms?"
+
+She flushed a little.
+
+"Isn't that a little rude, Mr. Trojan?" she said.  "It is of course the
+melodramatic attitude.  It was not long ago that I saw a play in which
+letters figured.  Pistols were fired, and the heroine wore red plush.
+Is that to be our style now?  I am sorry that I cannot oblige you.
+There are no pistols, but I will tell you frankly that it is no
+question of terms.  I refuse, under any circumstances whatever, to
+return the letters."
+
+"That is your absolute decision?"
+
+"My absolute decision."
+
+He got up and stood, for a moment, by her chair.
+
+"My dear," he said, "you do not know what you are doing.  You are
+disappointed, you are insulted--you think that you will have your
+revenge at all costs.  You do not know now, but you will discover
+later, that it has been no revenge at all.  It will be the most
+regretted action of your life.  You have a great chance; you are going
+to throw it away.  I am sorry, because you are not, I think, at all
+that sort of girl."  He paused a moment.  "Well, there is no more to be
+said.  I am sorry as much for your sake as my own.  Good-bye."
+
+He moved to the door.  The disappointment was almost more than he could
+bear.  He did not know how strong his hopes had been; and now he must
+return with things as they were before, with the added knowledge that
+his son had behaved like a cad, and that the world would soon know.
+
+"Good-bye," he said again and turned round towards her.
+
+She rose from her chair and tried to smile.  She said something that he
+could not catch, and then, suddenly, to his intense astonishment, she
+flung herself back into her chair again, hid her face in her hands, and
+burst into uncontrollable tears.  He stood irresolute, and then came
+back and waited by the fireplace.  He thought it was the most desolate
+thing that he had ever known--the flapping of the blind against the
+window, the dry rustling of the leaves on the mantel-piece, only
+accentuated the sound of her sobbing.  He let her cry and then, at
+last--"I am a brute," he said.  "I am sorry--I will go away."
+
+"No."  She sat up and began to dry her eyes with her handkerchief.
+"Don't go--it was absurd of me to give way like that; I thought that I
+had got over all that, but one is so silly--one never can tell----"
+
+He sat down again and waited.
+
+"You see," she went on, "I had liked you, always, from the first moment
+that I saw you.  You were different from the others--quite
+different--and after Robin had behaved--as he did--I distrusted every
+one.  I thought they were all like that, except you.  You do not know
+what people have done to us here.  We have had no friends; they have
+all despised us, especially your family.  And Robin said--well, lots of
+things that hurt.  That I was not good enough and that his aunt would
+not like me.  And then, of course, when I saw that, if I kept the
+letters, I could make them all unhappy--why, of course, I kept them.
+It was natural, wasn't it?  But I didn't want to hurt you--I felt that
+all the time; and when I saw you here when I came in, I was afraid,
+because I hardly knew what to do.  I thought I would show you that I
+wasn't weak and foolish as you thought me--the kind of girl that Robin
+could throw over so easily without thinking twice about it--and so I
+meant to hold out.  There--and now, of course, you think me hateful."
+
+He sat down by her and took her hand.  "It's all rather ridiculous,
+isn't it?" he said.  "I'm old enough to be your father, but I'm just
+where you are, really.  We've all been learning this last
+fortnight--you and Robin, and I--and all learning the same thing.  It's
+been a case," he hesitated for a word, "of calf-love, for all three of
+us.  Don't regret Robin; he's not worth it.  Why, you are worth twenty
+of him, and he'll know that later on.  I'm afraid that sounds
+patronising," he added, laughing.  "But I'm humble really.  Never mind
+the letters.  You shall do what you like with them and I will trust
+you.  You are not," he repeated, "that sort of girl.  Why, dash it!" he
+suddenly added, "Robin doesn't know what he has lost."
+
+"Ah!" she said, blushing, "it wouldn't have done.  I can see that
+now--but I can see so many things that I couldn't see before.  I wish I
+had known a man like you--then I might have learnt earlier; but I had
+nobody, nobody at all, and I nearly made a mess of things.  But it
+isn't too late!"
+
+"Too late!  Why, no!" he answered.  "I'm only beginning now, and I'm
+forty-five.  I, too, have learned a lot in this fortnight."
+
+She looked at him anxiously for a moment.  "They don't like you, do
+they?  Robin and the others?"
+
+"No," he answered; "I don't think they do."
+
+"I know," she said quickly; "I heard from Robin, and I'm sorry.  You
+must have had a bad time.  But why, if they have been like that, do you
+want the letters?  They have treated us both in the same way."
+
+"Why, yes," he answered.  "Only Robin is my son.  That, you see, is my
+great affair.  I care for him more than for anything in the world, and
+if I had the letters----"
+
+"Why, of course," she cried, "I see--it gives you the pull.  Why, how
+blind I've been!  It's splendid!"  She sprang up, and went to a small
+writing-desk by the window; she unlocked a drawer and returned with a
+small packet in her hand.  "There," she said, "there they are.  They
+are not many, are they, for such a big fuss?  But I think that I meant
+you to have them all the time--from the first moment that I saw you.  I
+had hoped that you would ask for them----"
+
+He took the letters, held them in his hand for a moment, and then
+slipped them into his pocket.
+
+"Thank you," he said, "I shall not forget."
+
+"Nor I," she answered.  "We are, I suppose, ships that pass in the
+night.  We have just shared for a moment an experience, and it has
+changed both of us a little.  But sometimes remember me, will you?
+Perhaps you would write?"
+
+"Why, of course," he answered, "I shall want to know how things turn
+out.  What will you do?"
+
+"I don't know.  We will go away from here, of course.  Go back to
+London, I expect--and I will get some work.  There are lots of things
+to do, and I shall be happy."
+
+"I hope," he said, "that the real thing is just beginning for both of
+us."
+
+She stood by the window looking out into the street.  "It makes things
+different if you believe in me," she said.  "It will give one courage.
+I had begun to think that there was no one in the world who cared."
+
+"Be plucky," he said.  "Work's the only thing.  It is because we've
+both been idle here that we're worried.  Don't think any more of Robin.
+He isn't good enough for you yet; he'll learn, like the rest of us; but
+he'll have to go through something first.  You'll find a better man."
+
+"Poor Robin," she said.  "Be kind to him!"
+
+He took her hand for a moment, smiled, and was gone.  She watched him
+from the window.
+
+He looked back at her and smiled again.  Then he passed the corner of
+the street.
+
+"So that's the end!"  She turned back from the window.  "Now for a
+beginning!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+Garrett Trojan had considered the matter for two days and had come to
+no conclusion.  His manner of considering anything was peculiar.  He
+loved procrastination and coloured future events with such beautiful
+radiancy that, when they actually came, the shock of finding them only
+drab was so terrible that he avoided them altogether.  He was, however,
+saved from any lasting pain and disappointment because he had been
+given, from early childhood, that splendid gift of discovering himself
+to be the continual hero of a continual play.  It was not only that he
+could make no move in life at all without being its hero--that, of
+course, was pleasant enough; but that it was always a fresh discovery
+was truly the amazing thing.  He was able to wake up, as it were, and
+discover afresh, every day of his life, what a hero he was; this was
+never monotonous, never wearisome.  He played the game anew from day to
+day--and the best part of the game was not knowing that it was a game
+at all.
+
+It must be admitted that he only maintained the illusion by keeping
+somewhat apart from his fellow-men--too frequent contact must have
+destroyed his dreams.  But his aloofness was termed preserving his
+individuality, and in the well-curtained library, in carpet-slippers
+and a smoking-jacket, he built his own monument with infinite care
+before an imaginary crowd in an imaginary city of dreams.
+
+There were times, of course, when he was a little uneasy.  He had heard
+men titter at the Club: Clare had, occasionally, spoken plain words as
+to his true position in the House, and he had even, at times, doubts as
+to the permanent value of the book on which he was engaged.  During
+these awful moments he gazed through the rent curtain into a valley of
+dead men's bones ruled by a dreary god who had no knowledge of Garrett
+Trojan and cared very little for the fortunes of the Trojan House.
+
+But a diligent application to the storehouses of his memory produced
+testimonials dragged, for the most part, from reluctant adherents which
+served to prove that Garrett Trojan was a great man and the head of a
+great family.
+
+He would, however, like some definite act to prove conclusively that he
+was head.  He had, at times, the unhappy suspicion that an outsider,
+regarding the matter superficially, might be led to conclude that Clare
+held command.  He found that if he interfered at all in family matters
+this suspicion was immediately strengthened, and so he confined himself
+to his room and watered diligently the somewhat stinted crop of
+Illusions.
+
+Nevertheless he felt the necessity of some prominent action that would
+still for ever his suspicions of incompetence, and would afford him a
+sure foundation on which to build his palace of self-complacency and
+personal appreciation.  During his latter years he had regarded himself
+as his father's probable successor.  Harry had seemed a very long way
+off in New Zealand, and became, eventually, an improbable myth, for
+Garrett had that happy quality bestowed on the ostrich of sticking his
+head into the sand of imagination and boastfully concluding that facts
+were not there.  Harry was a fact, but by continuously asserting that
+New Zealand was a long way off and that Harry would never come back,
+Harry's existence became a very pleasant fairy-story, like nautical
+tales of the sea-serpent and the Bewitching Mermaid.  They might be
+there, and it was very pleasant to listen to stories about them, but
+they had no real bearing on life as he knew it.
+
+Harry's return had, of course, shattered this bubble, and Garrett had
+had to yield all hopes of eventual succession.  He had, on the whole,
+borne it very well, and had come to the conclusion that succeeding his
+father would have entailed the performance of many wearisome duties;
+but that future being denied him, it was more than ever necessary to
+seize some opportunity of personal distinction.
+
+The discussion as to the destruction of the Cove had seemed to offer
+him every chance of attaining a prominent position.  The matter had
+grown in importance every day.  Pendragon had divided into two separate
+and sharply-distinguished camps, one standing valiantly by its standard
+of picturesque tradition and its hatred of modern noise and
+materialism, the other asserting loudly its love of utility and
+progress, derisively pointing the finger of scorn at old-world
+Conservatism run mad and an incredible affection for defective
+drainage.  Garrett had flung himself heart and soul (as he said) into
+the latter of these parties, and, feeling that this was a chance of
+distinction that fortune was not likely to offer him again in the near
+future, appeared frequently at discussions and even on one occasion in
+the Town Hall spoke.
+
+But he was surprised and disappointed; he found that he had nothing to
+say, the truth being that he was much more interested in Garrett than
+in the Cove, and that his audience had come to listen to the second of
+these two subjects rather than the first.  He found himself shelved; he
+was most politely told that he was not wanted, and he retired into his
+carpet-slippers again after one of those terrible quarters of an hour
+when he peeped past the curtain and saw a miserable, naked puppet
+shivering in a grey world, and that puppet was Garrett Trojan.
+
+Then suddenly a second opportunity presented itself.  Robin's trouble
+was unexpectedly reassuring.  This, he told himself, was the very
+thing.  If he could only prove to the world that he had dealt
+successfully with practical matters in a practical way, he need never
+worry again.  Let him deal with this affair promptly and resourcefully,
+as a man of the world and a true Trojan, and his position was assured.
+He must obtain the letters and at once.  He spent several pleasant
+hours picturing the scene in which he returned the letters to Robin.
+He knew precisely the moment, the room, the audience that he would
+choose--he had decided on the words that he would speak, but he was not
+sure yet as to how he would obtain the letters.
+
+He thought over it for three days and came to no conclusion.  It ought
+not to be difficult; the girl was probably one of those common
+adventuresses of whom one heard so often.  He had never actually met
+one--they did not suit carpet-slippers--but one knew how to deal with
+them.  It was merely a matter of tact and _savoir-faire_.
+
+Yes, it would be fun when he flourished the letters in the face of the
+family; how amazed Clare would be and how it would please Robin!--and
+then he suddenly awoke to the fact that time was getting on, and that
+he had done nothing.  And, after all, there were only two possible
+lines of action--to write or to seek a personal interview.  Of these he
+infinitely preferred the first.  He need not leave his room, he could
+direct operations from his arm-chair, and he could preserve that
+courtesy and decorum that truly befitted a Trojan.  But he had grave
+fears that the letter would not be accepted; Robin's had been scorned
+and his own might suffer the same fate--no, he was afraid that it must
+be a personal interview.
+
+He had come to this conclusion reluctantly, and now he hesitated to act
+on it; she might be violent, and he felt that he could not deal with
+melodrama.  But the thought of ultimate victory supported him.  The
+delicious surprise of it, the gratitude, the security of his authority
+from all attack for the rest of his days!  Ah yes, it was worth it.
+
+He dressed carefully in a suit of delicate grey, wearing, as he did on
+all public occasions, an eyeglass.  He took some time over his
+preparations and drank a whisky and soda before starting; he had
+secured the address from Robin, without, he flattered himself, any
+discovery as to the reason of his request.  10 Seaview Terrace!  Ah
+yes, he knew where that was--a gloomy back street, quite a fitting
+place for such an affair.
+
+He was still uncertain as to the plan of campaign, but he could not
+conceive it credible that any young woman in any part of the British
+Empire would stand up long against a Trojan--it would, he felt certain,
+prove easy.
+
+He noticed with pleasure the attention paid to him by the down-at-heels
+servant--it was good augury for the success of the interview.  He
+lowered his voice to a deep bass whilst asking for Miss Feverel, and he
+fixed his eyeglass at a more strikingly impressive angle.  He looked at
+women from four points of view, and he had, as it were, a sliding scale
+of manners on which he might mark delicately his perception of their
+position.  There was firstly the Countess, or Titled Nobility.  Here
+his manner was slightly deferential, and at the same time a little
+familiar--proof of his own good breeding.
+
+Secondly, there was the Trojan, or the lady of Assured Position.  Here
+he was quite familiar, and at the same time just a little
+patronising--proof of his sense of Trojan superiority.
+
+Thirdly, there was the Governess, or Poor Gentility Position.  To
+members of this class he was affably kind, conveying his sense of their
+merits and sympathy with their struggle against poverty, but
+nevertheless marking quite plainly the gulf fixed between him and them.
+
+Fourthly, there were the Impossibles, or the Rest--ranging from the
+wives of successful Brewers to that class known as Unfortunate.  Here
+there was no alteration in his manner; he was stern, and short, and
+stiff with all of them, and the reason of their existence was one of
+the unsolved problems that had always puzzled him.  This woman would,
+of course, belong to this latter class--he drew himself up haughtily as
+he entered the drawing-room.
+
+Dahlia Feverel was alone, seated working in the window.  Life was
+beginning to offer attractions to her again.  The thought of work was
+pleasing; she had decided to train as a nurse, and she began to see
+Robin in a clear, true light; she was even beginning to admit that he
+had been right, that their marriage would have been a great mistake.
+The announcement of Garrett Trojan took her by surprise--she gathered
+her work together and rose, her brain refusing to act consecutively.
+He wanted, of course, the letters--well, she had not got them....  It
+promised to be rather amusing.
+
+And he on his side was surprised.  He had expected a woman with
+frizzled hair and a dress of violent colours; he saw a slender, pale
+girl in black, and she looked rather more of a lady than he had
+supposed.  He was, in spite of himself, confused.  He began hurriedly--
+
+"I am Mr. Garrett Trojan--I dare say you have heard of me from my
+nephew--Robin--Robert--with whom, I believe, you are acquainted,
+Miss--ah--Feverel.  I have come on his behalf to request the return of
+some letters that he wrote to you during the summer."
+
+He drew a breath and paused.  Well, that was all right anyhow, and
+quite sufficiently business-like.
+
+"Won't you sit down, Mr. Trojan?" she said, smiling at him.  "It is
+good of you to have taken so much trouble simply about a few
+letters--and you really might have written, mightn't you, and saved
+yourself a personal visit?"
+
+He refused to sit down and drew himself up.  "Now I warn you, Miss
+Feverel," he said, "that this is no laughing matter.  You are doing a
+very foolish thing in keeping the letters--very foolish--ah! um!  You
+must, of course, see that--exceedingly foolish!"
+
+He came to a pause.  It was really rather difficult to know what to say
+next.
+
+"Ah, Mr. Trojan," she answered, "you must leave me to judge about the
+foolishness of it.  After all, they are my letters."
+
+"Pure waste of time," he answered, his voice getting a little shrill.
+"After all, there can be no question about it.  We _must_ have the
+letters--we are ready to go to some lengths to obtain them--even--ah,
+um--money----"
+
+"Now, Mr. Trojan," she said quickly, "you are scarcely polite.  But I
+am sure that you will see no reason for prolonging this interview when
+I say that, under no circumstances whatever, can I return the letters.
+That is my unchanging decision."
+
+He had no words; he stared at her, dumb with astonishment.  This open
+defiance was the very last thing that he had expected.  Then, at last--
+
+"You refuse?" he said with a little gasp.
+
+"Yes," she answered lightly, "and I cannot see anything very
+astonishing in my refusal.  They are my property, and it is nobody
+else's business at all."
+
+"But it is," he almost screamed.  "Business!  Why, I should think it
+was!  Do you think we want to have a scandal throughout the kingdom?
+Do you imagine that it would be pleasant for us to have our name in all
+the papers--our name that has never known disgrace since the days of
+William the Conqueror?  You can have," he added solemnly, "very little
+idea of the value of a name if you imagine that we are going to
+tolerate its abuse in this fashion.  Dear me, no!"
+
+He was growing quite red at the thought of his possible failure.  The
+things in the room annoyed him--the everlasting rustling on the
+mantelpiece--a staring photograph of Mr. Feverel, deceased, that seemed
+to follow him, protestingly, round and round the room--a corner of a
+dusty grey road seen dimly through dirty window-panes; why did people
+live in such a place--or, rather, why did such people live at all?--and
+to think that it was people like that who dared to threaten Trojan
+honour!  How could Robin have been such a fool!
+
+So, feeling that the situation was so absurd that argument was out of
+place, he began to bluster--
+
+"Come now, Miss Feverel--this won't do, you know! it won't really.
+It's too absurd--quite ridiculous.  Why, you forget altogether who the
+Trojans are!  Why, we've been years and years--hundreds of years!  You
+can't intend to oppose institutions of that kind!  Why--it's
+impossible--you don't realise what you're doing.  Dear me, no!  Why,
+the whole thing's fantastic--" and then rather lamely, "You'll be
+sorry, you know."
+
+She had been listening to him with amusement.  It was pleasant to have
+the family on its knees like this after its treatment of her.  He was
+saying, too, very many of the things that his brother had said, but how
+different it was!
+
+"You know, Mr. Trojan," she said, "that I can't help feeling that you
+are making rather a lot of it.  After all, I haven't said that I'm
+going to do anything with the letters, have I?--simply keep them, and
+that, I think, I am quite entitled to do.  And really my mind won't
+change about that--I cannot give them to you."
+
+"Cannot!" he retorted eagerly.  "Why, it's easy enough.  You know, Miss
+Feverel, it won't do to play with me.  I'm a man of the world and
+fencing won't do, you know--not a bit of it.  When I say I mean to have
+the letters, I mean to have them, and--ah, um--that's all about it.  It
+won't do to fence, you know," he said again.
+
+"But I'm not fencing, Mr. Trojan, I'm saying quite plainly what is
+perfectly true, that I cannot let you have the letters--nothing that
+you can say will change my mind."
+
+And he really didn't know what to say.  He didn't want to have a
+scene--he shrunk timidly from violence of any kind; but he really must
+secure the letters.  How they would laugh at the Club!  Why, he could
+hear the guffaws of all Pendragon!  London would be one enormous scream
+of laughter!--all Europe would be amused! and to his excited fancy Asia
+and Africa seemed to join the chorus!  A Trojan and a common girl in a
+breach of promise case!  A Trojan!
+
+"I say," he stammered, "you don't know how serious it is.  People will
+laugh, you know, if you bring the case on.  Of course it was silly of
+him--Robin, I mean.  I can't conceive myself how he ever came to do
+such a thing.  Boys will be boys, and you're rather pretty, my dear.
+But, bless me, if we were to take all these little things seriously,
+why, where would some of us be?"  He paused, and hinted impressively at
+a hideous past.  "You _are_ attractive, you know."  He looked at her in
+his most flattering manner--"Quite a nice girl, only you shouldn't take
+it seriously--really you shouldn't."
+
+This manner of speech was a great deal more offensive than the other,
+and Dahlia got up, her cheeks flushed--
+
+"That is enough, Mr. Trojan.  I think this had better come to an end.
+I can only repeat what I have said already, that I cannot give you the
+letters--and, indeed, if I had ever intended to do so, your last
+speech, at least, would have changed my mind--I am sorry that I cannot
+oblige you, but there is really nothing further to be said."
+
+He tried to stammer something; he faced her for a moment and
+endeavoured to be indignant, and then, to his own intense astonishment,
+found that he was walking down the stairs with the drawing-room door
+closed behind him.  How amazing!--but he had done his best, and, if he
+had failed, why, after all, no other man could have succeeded any
+better.  And she really was rather bewitching--he had not expected
+anything quite like that.  What had he expected?  He did not know, but
+he thought of his softly-carpeted, nicely-cushioned room with
+pleasurable anticipation.  He would fling himself into his book when he
+got back ... he had several rather neat ideas....  He noticed, with
+pleasure, that the young man standing by the door of Mead's Groceries
+touched his hat very respectfully, and Twitchett, his tailor, bowed.
+Come, come!  There were a few people left who had some sense of Trojan
+supremacy.  It wasn't such a bad world!  He would have tea in his
+room--not with Clare--and crumpets--yes, he liked crumpets.
+
+Dahlia went back to her work with a sigh.  What, she wondered, would be
+the next move?  It had not been quite so amusing as she had expected,
+but it had been a little more exciting.  For she had a curious feeling
+in it all, that she was fighting Harry Trojan's battles.  These were
+the people that had insulted him just as they had insulted her, and now
+they would have to pay for it, they would have to go to him as they had
+gone to her and crawl on their knees.  But what a funny situation!
+That she should play the son for the father, and that she should be
+able to look at her own love affair so calmly!  Poor Robin--he had
+taught her a great deal, and now it was time for him to learn his own
+lesson.  For her the episode was closed and she was looking forward to
+the future.  She would work and win her way and have done with
+sentiment.  Friendship was the right thing--the thing that the world
+was meant for--but _Love_--Ah! that wounded so much more than it
+blessed!
+
+But she was to have further experiences--the Trojan family had not done
+with her yet.  Garrett had been absent barely more than half an hour
+when the servant again appeared at the door with, "Miss Trojan, Miss
+Dahlia, would like to see yer and is waiting in the 'all."  Her hand
+twitching at her apron and mouth gaping with astonishment testified to
+her curiosity.  For weeks the house had been unvisited and now, in a
+single day--!
+
+"Show her up, Annie!"
+
+She was a little agitated; Garrett had been simple enough and even
+rather amusing, but Clare Trojan was quite another thing.  She was,
+Dahlia knew, the head of the family and a woman of the world.  But
+Dahlia clenched her teeth; it was this person who was responsible for
+the whole affair--for the father's unhappiness, for the son's
+disloyalty.  It was she who had been, as it were, behind Robin's
+halting speeches concerning inequality and one's duty to the family.
+Here was the head of the House, and Dahlia held the cards.
+
+But Clare was very calm and collected as she entered the room.  She had
+decided that a personal interview was necessary, but had rather
+regretted that it could not be conducted by letter.  But still if you
+had to deal with that kind of person you must put up with their
+methods, and having once made up her mind about a thing she never
+turned back.
+
+She hated the young person more bitterly than she had ever hated any
+one, and she would have heard of her death with no shadow of pity but
+rather a great rejoicing.  In the first place, the woman had come
+between Clare and Robin; secondly, she threatened the good name of the
+family; thirdly, she was forcing Clare to do several things that she
+very much disliked doing.  For all these reasons the young person was
+too bad to live--but she had no intention of being uncivil.  Although
+this was her first experience of diplomacy, she had very definite ideas
+as to how such things ought to be conducted, and civility would hide a
+multitude of subtleties.  Clare meant to be very subtle, very kind,
+and, once the letters were in her hand, very unrelenting.
+
+She was wearing a very handsome dress of grey silk with a large picture
+hat with grey feathers: she entered the room with a rustle, and the
+sweep of the skirts spoke of infinite condescension.
+
+"Miss Feverel, I believe--" she held out her hand--"I am afraid this is
+a most unceremonious hour for a call, and if I have interrupted you in
+your work, pray go on.  I wouldn't for the world.  What a day, hasn't
+it been?  I always think that these sort of grey depressing days are so
+much worse than the downright pouring ones, don't you?  You are always
+expecting, you know, and then nothing ever comes."
+
+Dahlia looked rather nervous in the window, and on her face there
+fluttered a rather uncertain smile.
+
+"Yes," she said, a little timidly; "but I think that most of the days
+here are grey."
+
+"Ah, you find that, do you?  Well, now, that's strange, because I must
+say that I haven't found that my own experience--and Cornwall, you
+know, is said to be the land of colour--the English Riviera some,
+rather prettily, call it--and St. Ives, you know, along the coast is
+quite a place for painters because of the colour that they get there."
+
+Dahlia said "Yes," and there was a pause.  Then Clare made her plunge.
+
+"You must wonder a little, Miss Feverel, what I have come about.  I
+really must apologise again about the hour.  But I won't keep you more
+than a moment; and it is all quite a trivial matter--so trivial that I
+am ashamed to disturb you about it.  I would have written, but I
+happened to be passing and--so--I came in."
+
+"Yes?" said Dahlia.
+
+"Well, it's about some letters.  Perhaps you have forgotten that my
+nephew, Robert Trojan, wrote to you last summer.  He tells me that you
+met last summer at Cambridge and became rather well acquainted, and
+that after that he wrote to you for several months.  He tells me that
+he wrote to you asking you to return his letters, and that you,
+doubtless through forgetfulness, failed to reply.  He is naturally a
+little nervous about writing to you again, and so I thought that--as I
+was passing--I would just come and see you about the matter.  But I am
+really ashamed to bother you about anything so trivial."
+
+"No," answered Dahlia, "I didn't forget--I wrote--answered Robin's
+letter."
+
+"Ah! you did?  Then he must have misunderstood you.  He certainly gave
+me to understand----"
+
+"Yes, I wrote to Robin saying that I was sorry--but I intended to keep
+the letters."
+
+Clare paused and looked at her sharply.  This was the kind of thing
+that she had expected; of course the young person would bluff and stand
+out for a tall price, which must, if necessary, be paid to her.
+
+"But, Miss Feverel, surely"--she smiled deprecatingly--"that can't be
+your definite answer to him.  Poor Robin!--surely he is entitled to
+letters that he himself has written."
+
+"Might I ask, Miss Trojan, why you are anxious that they should be
+returned?"
+
+"Oh, merely a whim--nothing of any importance.  But Robin feels, as I
+am sure you must, that the whole episode--pleasant enough at the time,
+no doubt--is over, and he feels that it would be more completely closed
+if the letters were destroyed."
+
+"Ah! but there we differ!" said Dahlia sharply.  "That's just what I
+don't feel about it.  I value those letters, Miss Trojan, highly."
+
+Now what, thought Clare, exactly was she?  Number One, the intriguing
+adventuress?  Number Two, the outraged woman?  Number Three, the
+helpless girl clinging to her one support?  Now, of Numbers One and Two
+Clare had had no experience.  Such persons had never come her way, and
+indeed of Number Three she could know very little; so she escaped from
+generalities and fixed her mind on the actual girl in front of her.
+This was most certainly no intriguing adventuress.  Clare had quite
+definite ideas about that class of person; but she very possibly was
+the outraged female.  At any rate, she would act on that conclusion.
+
+"My dear young lady," she said softly, "you must not think that I do
+not sympathise.  I do indeed, from the bottom of my heart.  Robin has
+behaved abominably, and any possible reparation we, as a family, will
+gladly pay.  I think, however, that you are a little hard on him.  He
+was young, so were you; and it is very easy for us--we women
+especially--to mistake the reality of our affection.  Robin at any rate
+made a mistake and saw it--and frankly told you so.  It was
+wrong--very; but I cannot help feeling--forgive me if I speak rather
+plainly--that it would be equally wrong on your part if you were to
+indulge any feeling of revenge."
+
+"There is not," said Dahlia, "any question of revenge."
+
+"Ah," said Clare brightly, "you will let me have the letters, then?"
+
+"I cannot," Dahlia answered gravely.  "Really, Miss Trojan, I'm afraid
+that we can gain nothing by further discussion.  I have looked at the
+matter from every point of view, and I'm afraid that I can come to no
+other decision."
+
+Clare stared in front of her.  What was to be her next move?  Like
+Garrett, she had been brought to a standstill by Dahlia's direct
+refusal.  Viewing the matter indefinitely, from the security of her own
+room, it had seemed to her that the girl would be certain to give way
+at the very mention of the Trojan name.  She would face Robin--yes,
+that was natural enough, because, after all, he was only a boy and had
+no knowledge of the world and the proper treatment of such a case--but
+when it came to the head of the family with all the influence of the
+family behind her, then instant submission seemed inevitable.
+
+Clare was forced to realise that instant submission was very far away
+indeed, and that the girl sitting quietly in the window showed little
+sign of yielding.  She sat up a little straighter in her chair and her
+voice was a little sharper.
+
+"It seems then, Miss Feverel, that it is a question of terms.  But why
+did you not say so before?  I would have told you at once that we are
+willing to pay a very considerable sum for the return of the letters."
+
+Dahlia's face flushed, and after a moment's pause she rose from her
+chair and walked towards Clare.
+
+"Miss Trojan," she said quietly, "I have no intention of taking money
+for them--or, indeed, of taking anything."
+
+"I'm sure," broke in Clare, flushing slightly, "_I_ had no intention
+of----"
+
+"Ah--no, I know," went on Dahlia.  "But it is not, I assure you, a case
+for melodrama--but a very plain, simple little affair that is happening
+everywhere all the time.  You say that you cannot understand why I
+should wish to keep the letters.  Let me try and explain, and also let
+me try and urge on you that it is really no good at all trying to
+change my mind.  It is now several days since I had my last talk with
+Robin, and I have, of course, thought a good deal about it--it is
+scarcely likely that half-an-hour's conversation with you will change a
+determination that I have arrived at after ten days' hard thinking.
+And surely it is not hard to understand.  Six months ago I was happy
+and inexperienced.  I had never been in love, and, indeed, I had no
+idea of its meaning.  Then your nephew came: he made love to me, and I
+loved him in return."
+
+She paused for a moment.  Clare looked sympathetic.  Then Dahlia
+continued: "He meant no harm, no doubt, and perhaps for the time he was
+quite serious in what he said.  He was, as you say, very young.  But it
+was a game to him--it was everything to me.  I treasured his letters, I
+thought of them day and night.  I--but, of course, you know the kind of
+thing that a girl goes through when she is in love for the first time.
+Then I came here and went through some bad weeks whilst he was making
+up his mind to tell me that he loved me no longer.  Of course, I saw
+well enough what was happening--and I knew why it was--it was the
+family at his back."
+
+A murmur from Clare.  "I assure you, Miss Feverel."
+
+"Oh yes, Miss Trojan, you don't suppose that I cared for you very much
+during those weeks.  I suffered a little, too, and it changed me from a
+girl into a woman--rather too quickly to be altogether healthy,
+perhaps.  And then he came and told me in so many words.  I thought at
+first that it had broken my heart; a girl does, you know, when it
+happens the first time, but you needn't be afraid--my heart's all
+right--and I wouldn't marry Robin now if he begged me to.  But it had
+hurt, all of it, and perhaps one's pride had suffered most of all--and
+so, of course, I kept the letters.  It was the one way that I could
+hurt you.  I'm frank, am I not?--but every woman would do the same.
+You see you are so very proud, you Trojans!
+
+"It is not only that you thank God that you are not as other men, but
+you are so bent on making the rest of us call out 'Miserable sinner!'
+very loudly and humbly.  And we don't believe it.  Why should we?
+Everybody has their own little bits o' things that they treasure, and
+they don't like being told that they're of no value at all.  Why, Miss
+Trojan, I'm quite a proud person really--you'd be surprised if you
+knew."
+
+She laughed, and then sat down on the sofa opposite Clare, with her
+chin resting on her hand.
+
+"So you see, Miss Trojan, it's natural, after all, that I kept the
+letters."
+
+Clare had listened to the last part of her speech in silence, her lips
+firmly closed, her hands folded on her lap.  As she listened to her she
+knew that it was quite hopeless, that nothing that she could ever say
+would change the young person's mind.  She was horribly disappointed,
+of course, and it would be terrible to be forced to return to Robin,
+and tell him that she had failed: for the first time she would have to
+confess failure--but really she could not humble herself any longer:
+she was not sure that, even now, she had not unbent a little more than
+was necessary.  If the young person refused to consider the question of
+terms there was no more to be said--and how dare she talk about the
+Trojans in that way?
+
+"Really, Miss Feverel, I scarcely think that it is necessary for us to
+enter into a discussion of that kind, is it?  I daresay you have every
+reason for personal pride--but really that is scarcely my affair, is
+it?  If no offer of money can tempt you--well, really, there the matter
+must rest, mustn't it?  Of course I am sorry, but you know your own
+mind.  But that you should think yourself insulted by such an offer is,
+it seems to me, a little absurd.  It is quite obvious what you mean to
+do with them."
+
+Dahlia smiled.
+
+"Is it?" she said.  "That is very clever of you, Miss Trojan.  I am
+sorry that you should have so much trouble for such a little result."
+
+"There is no more to be said," answered Clare, moving to the door.
+"Good morning," and she was gone.
+
+"Oh dear," said Dahlia, as she went back to the window, "how unpleasant
+she is.  Poor Robin!  What a time he will have!"
+
+For her the pathos was over, but for them--well--it had not begun.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+The question of the Cove was greatly agitating the mind of Pendragon.
+Meetings had been held, a scheme had been drawn up, and it would appear
+that the thing was settled.  It had been conclusively proved that two
+rows of lodging-houses where the Cove now stood would be an excellent
+thing.  The town was over-crowded--it must spread out in some
+direction, and the Cove-end was practically the only possible place for
+spreading.
+
+The fishery had been declining year by year, and it was hinted at the
+Club that it would be rather a good thing if it declined until it
+vanished altogether; the Cove was in no sense of the word useful, and
+by its lack of suitable drainage and defective protection from weather,
+it was really something of a scandal,--it formed, as Mr. Grayseed, pork
+butcher and mayor of the town, pointed out, the most striking contrast
+with the upward development so marked in Pendragon of late years.  He
+called the Cove an "eyesore" and nearly proclaimed it an "anomaly"--but
+was restrained by the presence of his wife, a nervous woman who
+followed her husband with difficulty in his successful career, and
+checked his language when the length of his words threatened their
+accuracy.
+
+The town might be said to be at one on these points, and there was no
+very obvious reason why the destruction of the Cove should not be
+proceeded with--but, still, nothing was done.  It was said by a few
+that the Cove was picturesque and undoubtedly attracted strangers by
+the reason of its dirty, crooked streets and bulging doorways--an odd
+taste, they admitted, but nevertheless undoubted and of commercial
+importance.  On posters Pendragon was described as "the picturesque
+abode of old-time manners and customs," and Baedeker had a word about
+"charming old-time byways and an old Inn, the haunt, in earlier times,
+of smugglers and freebooters."  Now this was undoubtedly valuable, and
+it would be rather a pity were it swept away altogether.  Perhaps you
+might keep the Inn--it might even be made into a Museum for relics of
+old Pendragon--bits of Cornish crosses, stones, some quaint drawings of
+the old town, now in the possession of Mr. Quilter, the lawyer.
+
+The matter was much discussed at the Club, and there was no doubt as to
+the feeling of the majority; let the Cove go--let them replace it with
+a smart row of red-brick villas, each with its neat strip of garden and
+handsome wooden paling.
+
+Harry had learnt to listen in silence.  He knew, for one thing, that no
+one would pay very much attention if he did speak, and then, of late,
+he had been flung very much into himself and his reserve had grown from
+day to day.  People did not want to listen to him--well, he would not
+trouble them.  He felt, too, as Newsome had once said to him, that he
+belonged properly to "down-along," and he knew that he was out of touch
+with the whole of that modern movement that was going on around him.
+But sometimes, as he listened, his cheeks burned when they talked of
+the Cove, and he longed to jump up and plead its defence; but he knew
+that it would be worse than useless and he held himself in--but they
+didn't know, they didn't know.  It enraged him most when they spoke of
+it as some lifeless, abstract thing, some old rubbish-heap that
+offended their sight, and then he thought of its beauties, of the
+golden sand and the huddling red and grey cottages clustering over the
+sea as though for protection.  You might fancy that the waves slapped
+them on the back for good-fellowship when they dashed up against the
+walls, or kissed them for love when they ran in golden ripples and
+softly lapped the stones.
+
+On the second night after his visit to Dahlia Feverel, Harry went down,
+after dinner, to the Cove.  He found those evening hours, before going
+to bed, intolerable at the House.  The others departed to their several
+rooms and he was suffered to go to his, but the loneliness and
+dreariness made reading impossible and his thoughts drove him out.  He
+had lately been often at the Inn, for this was the hour when it was
+full, and he could sit in a corner and listen without being forced to
+take any part himself.  To-night a pedlar and a girl--apparently his
+daughter--were entertaining the company, and even the melancholy sailor
+with one eye seemed to share the feeling of gaiety and chuckled
+solemnly at long intervals.  It was a scene full of colour; the lamps
+in the window shone golden through the haze of smoke on to the black
+beams of the ceiling, the dust-red brick of the walls and floor, and
+the cavernous depths of the great fireplace.  Sitting cross-legged on
+the table in the centre of the room was the pedlar, a little, dark,
+beetle-browed man, and at his side were his wares, his pack flung open,
+and cloths of green and gold and blue and red flung pell-mell at his
+side.  Leaning against the table, her hands on her hips, was the girl,
+dark like her father, tall and flat-chested, with a mass of black hair
+flung back from her forehead.  No one knew from what place they had
+come nor whither they intended to go--such a visit was rare enough in
+these days of trains--and the little man's reticence was attacked again
+and again, but ever unsuccessfully.  There were perhaps twenty sailors
+in the room, and they sat or stood by the fireplace watching and
+listening.
+
+Harry slipped in and took his place by Newsome in the corner.
+
+"I will sing," said the girl.
+
+She stood away from the table and flung up her head--she looked
+straight into the fire and swayed her body to the time of her tune.
+Her voice was low, so that men bent forward in order that they might
+hear, and the tune was almost a monotone, her voice rising and falling
+like the beating of the sea, with the character of her words.  She sang
+of a Cornish pirate, Coppinger, "Cruel Coppinger," and of his deeds by
+land and sea, of his daring and his cleverness and his brutality, and
+the terror that he inspired, and at last of his pursuit by the king's
+cutter and his utter vanishing "no man knew where."  But gradually as
+her song advanced Coppinger was forgotten and her theme became the
+sea--she spoke like one possessed, and her voice rose and fell like the
+wind--all Time and Place were lost.  Harry felt that he was unbounded
+by tradition of birth or breeding, and he knew that he was absolutely
+as one of these others with him in the room--that he felt that call of
+those old gods just as they did.  The girl ceased and the room was
+silent.  Through the walls came the sound of the sea--in the fire was
+the crackling of the coals, and down the great chimney came a little
+whistle of the wind.  "A mighty fine pome 'tis fur sure," said the
+white-bearded sailor solemnly, "and mostly wonderful true."  He sighed.
+"They'm changed times," he said.
+
+The girl sat on the table at her father's side, watching them
+seriously.  She flung her arms behind her head and then suddenly--
+
+"I can dance too," she said.
+
+They pulled the table back and watched her.
+
+It was something quite simple and unaffected--not, perhaps, in any way
+great dancing, but having that quality, so rarely met with, of being
+exactly right and suited to time and place.  Her arms moved in ripples
+like the waves of the sea--every part of her body seemed to join in the
+same motion, but quietly, with perfect tranquillity, without any sense
+of strain or effort.  The golden lamps, the coloured clothes, the
+red-brick floor, made a background of dazzling colour, and her black
+hair escaped and fell in coils over her neck and shoulders.
+
+Suddenly she stopped.  "There, that's all," she said, binding her hair
+up again with quick fingers.  She walked over to the sailors and talked
+to them with perfect freedom and ease; at last she stayed by the
+handsomest of them--a dark, well-built young fellow, who put his arm
+round her waist and shared his drink with her.
+
+Harry, as he watched them, felt strangely that it was for him a scene
+of farewell--that it was for the last time that the place was to offer
+him such equality or that he himself would be in a position to accept
+it.  He did not know why he had this feeling--perhaps it was the talk
+of the Club about the Cove, or his own certain conviction that matters
+at the House were rapidly approaching a crisis.  Yes, his own protests
+were of no avail--things must move, and perhaps, after all, it were
+better that they should.
+
+Bethel came in, and as usual joined the group at the fire without a
+word; he looked at the pedlar curiously and then seemed to recognise
+him--then he went up to him and soon they were in earnest conversation.
+It grew late, and at the stroke of midnight Newsome rose to shut up the
+house.
+
+"I will go back with you," Bethel said to Harry, and they walked to the
+door together.  For a moment Harry turned back.  The girl was bending
+over the sailor--her arms were round his neck, and his head was tilted
+back to meet her mouth; the pedlar was putting his wares into his pack
+again, but some pieces of yellow and blue silk had escaped him and lay
+on the floor at his feet; down the street three of the sailors were
+tramping home, and the chorus of a chanty died away as they turned the
+corner.
+
+The girl, the pedlar, the colours of the room, the vanishing song,
+remained with Harry to the end of his life--for that moment marked a
+period.
+
+As he walked up the hill he questioned Bethel about the pedlar.
+
+"Oh, I had met him," he said vaguely.  "One knows them all, you know.
+But it is difficult to remember where.  He is one of the last of his
+kind and an amusing fellow enough----"  But he sighed--"I am out of
+sorts to-night--my kite broke.  Do you know, Trojan, there are times
+when one thinks that one has at last got right back--to the power, I
+mean, of understanding the meaning and truth of things--and then,
+suddenly, it has all gone and one is just where one was years ago and
+it seems wasted.  I tell you, man, last night I was on the moor and it
+was alive with something.  I can't tell you what--but I waited and
+watched--I could feel them growing nearer and nearer, the air was
+clearer--their voices were louder--and then suddenly it was all gone.
+But of course you won't understand--none of you--why should you?  You
+think that I am flying a kite--why, I am scaling the universe!"
+
+"Whatever you are doing," said Harry seriously, "you are not keeping
+your family.  Look here, Bethel, you asked me once if I would be a
+friend of yours.  Well, I accepted that, and we have been good friends
+ever since.  But it really won't do--this kind of thing, I mean.
+Scaling the universe is all very well, if you are a single man--then it
+is your own look-out; but you are married--you have people depending on
+you, and they will soon be starving."
+
+Bethel burst out laughing.
+
+"They've got you, Trojan!  They've got you!" he cried.  "I knew it
+would come sooner or later, and it hasn't taken long.  Three weeks and
+you're like the rest of them.  No, you mustn't talk like that, really.
+Tell me I'm a damned fool--no good--an absolutely rotten type of
+fellow--and it's all true enough.  But you must accept it at that.  At
+least I'm true to my type, which is more than the rest of them are, the
+hypocrites!--and as to my family, well, of course I'm sorry, but
+they're happy enough and know me too well to have any hope of ever
+changing me----"
+
+"No--of course, I don't want to preach.  I'm the last man to tell any
+one what they should do, seeing the mess that I've made of things
+myself.  But look here, Bethel, I like you--I count myself a friend,
+and what are friends for if they're not to speak their minds?"
+
+"Oh!  That's all right enough.  Go on--I'll listen."  He resigned
+himself with a humorous submission as though he were indulging the
+opinions of a child.
+
+"Well, it isn't right, you know--it isn't really.  I don't want to tell
+you that you're a fool or a rotter, because you aren't, but that's just
+what makes it so disappointing for any one who cares about you.  You're
+letting all your finer self go.  You're becoming, what they say you
+are, a waster.  Of course, finding yourself's all right--every man
+ought to do that.  But you have no right to throw off all claims as
+completely as you have done.  Life isn't like that.  We've all got our
+Land of Promise, and, just in order that it may remain, we are never
+allowed to reach it.  Whilst you are lying on your back on the moor,
+your wife and daughter are killing themselves in order to keep the home
+together--I say that it is not fair."
+
+"Oh, come, Trojan," Bethel protested, "is that quite fair on your side?
+Things are all right, you know.  They like it better, they do really.
+Why, if I were to stay at home and try to work they'd think I was going
+to be ill.  Besides, I couldn't--not at an office or anything like
+that.  It isn't my fault, really--but it would kill me now if I
+couldn't get away when I want to--not having liberty would be worse
+than death."
+
+"Ah, that's yourself," said Harry.  "That's selfish.  Why don't you
+think of them?  You can't let things go on as they are, man.  You must
+get something to do."
+
+"I'm damned if I will."  Bethel stopped short and stretched his arms
+wide over the moor.  "It isn't as if it would do them any good, and it
+would kill me.  Why, one is deaf and blind and dumb as soon as one has
+work to do.  I'm a child, you know.  I've never grown up, and of course
+I hadn't any right to marry.  I don't know now why I did.  And all you
+people--you grown-ups--with your businesses and difficult pleasures and
+noisy feasts--of course you can't understand what these things mean.
+Only a few of you who sit with folded hands and listen can know what it
+is.  I saw a picture once--some people feasting in a forest, and
+suddenly a little faun jumped from a tree on to their table and waited
+for them to play with him.  But some were eating and some drinking and
+some talking scandal, and they did not see him.  Only a little boy and
+an old man--they were doing nothing--just dreaming--and they saw him.
+Oh!  I tell you, the dreamer has his philosophy and creed like the rest
+of you!"
+
+"That's all very well," cried Harry.  "But it's a case of bread and
+butter.  You will be bankrupt if you go on as you are!"
+
+"Oh no!" Bethel laughed.  "Providence looks after the dreamers.
+Something always happens--I know something will happen now.  We are on
+the edge of some good fortune.  I can feel it."
+
+The man was incorrigible--there was no doubt of it--but Harry had
+something further to say.
+
+"Well, I want you to let me take a deeper interest in your affairs.
+May I ask your daughter to marry me?"
+
+"What?  Mary?"  Bethel stopped and shouted--"Why!  That's splendid!  Of
+course, that's what Providence has been intending all this time.  The
+very thing, my dear fellow----" and he put his arm on Harry's
+shoulder--"there's no one I'd rather give my girl to.  But it's nothing
+to do with me, really.  She'll know her mind and tell you what she
+feels about it.  Dear me!  Just to think of it!"
+
+He broke out into continuous chuckles all the way home, and seemed to
+regard the whole affair as a great joke.  Harry left him shouting at
+the moon.  He had scarcely meant to speak of it so soon, but the
+thought of her struggle and the knowledge of her father's utter
+indifference decided matters.  He went back to the house, determining
+on an interview in the morning.
+
+Mary meanwhile had been spending an evening that was anything but
+pleasant--she had been going through her accounts and was horrified at
+what she saw.  They were badly overdrawn, most of the shops had refused
+them further credit, and the little income that came to them could not
+hope to cover one-half of their expenses.  What was to be done?  Ruin
+and disgrace stared them in the face.  They might borrow, but there was
+no one to whom she could go.  They must, of course, give up their
+little house and go into rooms, but that would make very little
+difference.  She looked at it from every point of view and could think
+of no easier alternative.  She puzzled until her head ached, and the
+room, misty with figures, seemed to swim round her.  She felt cruelly
+lonely, and her whole soul cried out for Harry--he would help her, he
+would tell her what to do.  She knew now that she loved him with all
+the strength that was in her, that she had always loved him, from the
+first moment that she had known him.  She remembered her promise to him
+that she would come and ask for his help if she really needed it--well,
+perhaps she would, in the end, but now, at least, she must fight it out
+alone.  The first obvious thing was that her parents must know; that
+they would be of any use was not to be expected, but at least they must
+realise on what quicksands their house was built.  They were like two
+children, with no sense whatever of serious consequences and penalties,
+and they would not, of course, realise that they were face to face with
+a brick wall of debts and difficulties and that there was no way
+over--but they must be told.
+
+On the next morning, after breakfast, Mary penned her mother into the
+little drawing-room and broached the subject.  Mrs. Bethel knew that
+something serious was to follow, and sat on the edge of her chair,
+looking exactly like a naughty child convicted of a fault.  She was
+wearing a rather faded dress of bright yellow silk and little yellow
+shoes, which she poked out from under her dress every now and again and
+regarded with a complacent air.
+
+"They are really not so shabby, Mary, my dear--not nearly so shabby as
+the blue ones, and a good deal more handsome--don't you think so, my
+dear?  But you say you want to talk about something, so I'll be
+quiet--only if you wouldn't mind being just a little quick because
+there are, really, so many things to be done this morning, that it
+puzzles me how----"
+
+"Yes, mother, I know.  But there is something I want to say.  I won't
+be long, only it's rather important."
+
+"Yes, dear--only don't scold.  You look as if you were going to scold.
+I can always tell by that horrid line you have, dear, in your forehead.
+I know I've done something I oughtn't to, but what it is unless it's
+those red silks I bought at Dixon's on Friday, and they were so cheap,
+only----"
+
+"No, mother, it's nothing you've done.  It's rather what I've done, or
+all of us.  We are all in the same boat.  It's my managing, I suppose;
+anyhow, I've made a mess of it and we're very near the end of the rope.
+There doesn't seem any outlook anywhere.  We're overdrawn at the bank;
+they won't give us credit in the town, and I don't see where any's to
+come from."
+
+"Oh, it's money!  Well, my dear, of course it is provoking--such a
+horrid thing to have to worry about; but really I'm quite relieved.  I
+thought it was something I'd done.  You quite frightened me; and I'm
+glad you don't mind about the red silks, because it really was tempting
+with----"
+
+"No, dear, that's all right.  But this is serious.  I've come to the
+end and I want you to help me.  Will you just go through the books with
+me and see if anything can be done?  I'm so tired and worried.  I've
+been going at them so long that I daresay I've muddled it.  It mayn't
+be quite so hopeless as I've made out."
+
+"The books!  My dear Mary----"  Mrs. Bethel looked at her daughter
+pathetically.  "You know that I've no head for figures.  Why, when
+mother died at home--we were in Chertsey then, Frank and Doris and
+I--and I tried to manage things, you know, it was really too absurd.  I
+used to make the most ridiculous mistakes and Frank said that the
+village people did just what they liked with me, and I remember old
+Mrs. Blenkinsop charging me for eggs after the first month at quite an
+outrageous rate because----"
+
+"Yes, mother, I know.  But two heads are better than one, and I am
+really hopelessly puzzled to know what to do."  Mary got up and went
+over to her mother and put her arm round her.  "You see, dear, it is
+serious.  There's no money at all--less than none; and I don't know
+where we are to turn.  There's no outlook at all.  I'm afraid that it's
+no use appealing to father--no use--and so it's simply left for us two
+to do what we can.  It's frightening always doing it alone, and I
+thought you would help me."
+
+"Well, of course, Mary dear, I'll do what I can.  No, I'm afraid that
+it would be no good appealing to your father.  It's strange how very
+little sense he's ever had of money--of the value of it.  I remember in
+the first week that we were married he bought some book or other and we
+had to go without quite a lot of things.  I was angry then, but I've
+learnt since.  It was our first quarrel."
+
+She sighed.  It was always Mrs. Bethel's method of dealing with any
+present problem to flee into the happy land of reminiscence and to stay
+there until the matter had, comfortably or otherwise, settled itself.
+
+"But I shouldn't worry," she said, looking up at her daughter.  "Things
+always turn up, and besides," she added, "you might marry, dear."
+
+"Marry!"  Mary looked up at her mother sharply.  Mrs. Bethel looked a
+little frightened.
+
+"Well, you will, you know, dear, probably--and perhaps--well, if he had
+money----"
+
+"Mother!"  She sprang up from her chair and faced her with flaming
+cheeks.  "Do you mean to say that they are talking about it?"
+
+"They?  Who?  It was only Mrs. Morrison the other day, at tea-time,
+said--that she thought----"
+
+"Mrs. Morrison?  That hateful woman discussing me?  Mother, how could
+you let her?  What did she say?"
+
+"Why, only--I wish you wouldn't look so cross, dear.  It was nothing
+really--only that Mr. Trojan obviously cared a good deal--and it would
+be so nice if----"
+
+"How dare she?" Mary cried again.  "And you think it too, mother--that
+I would go on my knees to him to take us out of our trouble--that I
+would sweep his floors if he would help the family!  Oh!  It's hateful!
+Hateful!"
+
+She flung herself into a chair by the window and burst into tears.
+Mrs. Bethel stared at her in amazement.  "Well, upon my word, my dear,
+one never knows how to take you!  Why, it wasn't as if she'd said
+anything, only that it would be rather nice."  She paused in utter
+bewilderment and seemed herself a little inclined to cry.
+
+At this moment the door opened--Mary sprang up.  "Who is it?" she asked.
+
+"Mr. Henry Trojan, miss, would like to come up if it wouldn't----"
+
+"No.  Tell him, Jane, that----"
+
+But he had followed the servant and appeared in the doorway smiling.
+
+"I knew you wouldn't mind my coming unconventionally like this," he
+said; "it's a terrible hour in the morning--but I felt sure that I
+would catch you."
+
+He had seen at once that there was something wrong, and he stopped
+confusedly in the doorway.
+
+But Mrs. Bethel came forward, smiling nervously.
+
+"Oh, please, Mr. Trojan, do come in.  We always love to see you--you
+know we do--you're one of our real friends--one of our best--and it's
+only too good of you to spare time to come round and see us.  But I am
+busy--it's quite true--one is, you know, in the morning; but I don't
+think that Mary has anything very important immediately.  I think she
+might stop and talk to you," and in a confusion of tittered apologies
+she vanished away.
+
+But he stood in the doorway, waiting for Mary to speak.  She sat with
+her head turned to the window and struggled to regain her self-command;
+they had been talked about in the town.  She could imagine how it had
+gone.  "Oh! the Bethel girl!  Yes, after the Trojan money and doing it
+cleverly too; she'll hook him all right--he's just the kind of man."
+Oh! the hatefulness of it!
+
+"What's up?"  He came forward a little, twisting his hat in his hands.
+
+"Nothing!"  She turned round and tried to smile.  Indeed she almost
+laughed, for he looked so ridiculous standing there--like a great
+schoolboy before the headmaster, his hat turning in his hands; or
+rather, like a collie plunging out of the water and ready to shake
+himself on all and sundry.  As she looked at him she knew that she
+loved him and that she could never marry him because Pendragon thought
+that she had hooked him for his money.
+
+"Yes--there is something.  What is it?"  He had come forward and taken
+her hands.
+
+But she drew them away slowly and sat down on the sofa.  "I'm tired,"
+she said a little defiantly, "that's all--you know if you will come and
+call at such dreadfully unconventional hours you mustn't expect to find
+people with all the paint on.  I never put mine on till lunch----"
+
+"No--it's no good," he answered gravely.  "You're worried, and it's
+wrong of you not to tell me.  You are breaking your promise----"
+
+"I made no promise," she said quickly.
+
+"You did--that day on the moor.  We were to tell each other always if
+anything went wrong.  It was a bargain."
+
+"Well, nothing's wrong.  I'm tired--bothered a bit--the old
+thing--there's more to be bought than we're able to pay for."
+
+"I've come with a proposition," he answered gravely.  "Just a
+suggestion, which I don't suppose you'll consider--but you might--it is
+that you should marry me."
+
+It had come so suddenly that it took her by surprise.  The colour flew
+into her cheeks and then ebbed away again, leaving her whiter than
+ever.  That he should have actually said the words made her heart beat
+furiously, and there was a singing in her ears so that she scarcely
+heard what he said.  He paused a moment and then went on.  "Oh!  I know
+it's absurd when we've only known each other such a little time, and
+I've been telling myself that again and again--but it's no good.  I've
+tried to keep it back, but I simply couldn't help it--it's been too
+strong for me."
+
+He paused again, but she said nothing and he went on.  "I ought to tell
+you about myself, so that you should know, because I'm really a very
+rotten type of person.  I've never done anything yet, and I don't
+suppose I ever shall; I've been a failure at most things, and I'm
+stupid.  I never read the right sort of books, or look at the right
+sort of pictures, or like the right sort of music, and even at the sort
+of things that most men are good at I'm nothing unusual.  I can't
+write, you know, a bit, and in my letters I express myself like a boy
+of fifteen.  And then I'm old--quite middle-aged--although I feel young
+enough.  So that all these things are against me, and it's really a
+shame to ask you."
+
+He paused again, and then he said timidly, bending towards her--
+
+"Could you ever, do you think, give me just a little hope--I wouldn't
+want you to right away at once--but, any time, after you'd thought
+about it?"
+
+She looked up at him and saw that he was shaking from head to foot.
+Her pride was nearly overcome and she wanted to fling herself at his
+feet, and kiss his hands, and never let him go, but she remembered that
+Pendragon had said that she was catching him for his money; so, by a
+great effort, she stayed where she was, and answered quietly, even
+coldly--
+
+"I am more honoured, Mr. Trojan, than I can tell you by your asking me.
+It is much, very much more than I deserve, and, indeed, I'm not in the
+least worthy of it.  I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it's no good.  You see
+I'm such a stupid sort of girl--I muddle things so.  It would never do
+for me to attempt to manage a big place like 'The Flutes'--and then I
+don't think I shall ever marry.  I don't think I am that sort of girl.
+You have been an awfully good friend to me, and I'm more grateful to
+you than I can say.  I can't tell you how much you have helped us all
+during these last weeks.  But I'm afraid I must say no."
+
+The light from the window fell on her hair and the blue of her dress--a
+little gold pin at her throat flashed and sparkled; his eye caught it,
+and was fixed there.
+
+"No--don't say actually no."  He was stammering.  "Please--please.
+Think about it after I have gone away.  I will come again another day
+when you have thought about it.  I'm so stupid in saying things--I
+can't express myself; but, Miss Bethel--Mary--I love you--I love you.
+There isn't much to say about it--I can't express it any better--but,
+please--you mustn't say no like that.  I would be as good a husband to
+you as I could, dear, always.  I'm not the sort of fellow to change."
+
+"No"--she was speaking quickly as though she meant it to be final--"no,
+really, I mean it.  I can't, I can't.  You see one has to feel certain
+about it, hasn't one?--and I don't--not quite like that.  But you are
+the very best friend that I have ever had; don't let it spoil that."
+
+"Perhaps," he said slowly, "it's my age.  You don't feel that you could
+with a man old enough to be your father.  But I'm young--younger than
+Robin.  But I won't bother you about it.  Of course, if you are
+certain----"
+
+He rose and stumbled a moment over the chair as he passed to the door.
+
+"Oh!  I'm so sorry!" she cried.  "I----" and then she had to turn to
+hide her face.  In her heart there was a struggle such as she had never
+faced before.  Her love called her a fool and told her that she was
+flinging her life away--that the ship of her good fortune was sailing
+from her, and it would be soon beyond the horizon; but her pride
+reminded her of what they had said--that she had laid traps for him,
+for his money.
+
+"I am sorry," she said again.  "But it must be only friendship."
+
+But she had forgotten that although her back was turned he was towards
+the mirror.  He could see her--her white face and quivering lips.
+
+He sprang towards her.
+
+"Mary, try me.  I will love you better than any man in God's world,
+always.  I will live for you, and work for you, and die for you."
+
+It was more than she could bear.  She could not reason now.  She was
+only resolved that she would not give way, and she pushed past him
+blindly, her head hanging.
+
+The drawing-room door closed.  He stared dully in front of him.  Then
+he picked up his hat and left the house.
+
+She had flung herself on her bed and lay there motionless.  She heard
+the door close, his steps on the stairs, and then the outer door.
+
+She sprang to the window, and then, moved by some blind impulse, rushed
+to the head of the stairs.  There were steps, and Mrs. Bethel's voice
+penetrated the gloom.  "Mary, Mary, where are you?"
+
+She crept back to her room.
+
+He walked back to "The Flutes" with the one fact ever before him--that
+she had refused him.  He realised now that it had been his love for her
+that had kept him during these weeks sane and brave.  Without it, he
+could not have faced his recent troubles and all the desolate sense of
+outlawry and desolation that had weighed on him so terribly.  Now he
+must face it, alone, with the knowledge that she did not love him--that
+she had told him so.  It was his second rejection--the second flinging
+to the ground of all his defences and walls of protection.  Robin had
+rejected him, Mary had rejected him, and he was absolutely, horribly
+alone.  He thought for a moment of Dahlia Feverel and of her desertion.
+Well, she had faced it pluckily; he would do the same.  Life could be
+hard, but he would not be beaten.  His methods of consolation, his
+pulling of himself together--it was all extremely commonplace, but then
+he was an essentially commonplace man, and saw things unconfusedly, one
+at a time, with no entanglement of motives or complicated searching for
+origins.  He had accepted the fact of his rejection by his family with
+the same clear-headed indifference to side-issues as he accepted now
+his rejection by Mary.  He could not understand "those artist fellows
+with their complications"--life for him was perfectly straight-forward.
+
+But the gods had not done with his day.  On the way up to his room he
+was met by Clare.
+
+"Father is worse," she said quickly.  "He took a turn this morning, and
+now, perhaps, he will not live through the night.  Dr. Turner and Dr.
+Craile are both with him.  He asked for you a little while ago."
+
+She passed down the stairs--the quiet, self-composed woman of every
+day.  It was characteristic of a Trojan that the more agitated outside
+circumstances became the quieter he or she became.  Harry was Trojan in
+this, and, as was customary with him, he put aside his own worries and
+dealt entirely with the matter in hand.
+
+Already, over the house, a change was evident.  In the absolute
+stillness there could be felt the presence of a crisis, and the
+monotonous flap of a blind against some distant window sounded clearly
+down the passages.
+
+In Sir Jeremy's room there was perfect stillness.  The two doctors had
+gone downstairs and the nurse was alone.  "He asked for you, sir," she
+whispered; "he is unconscious again now."
+
+Harry sat down by the bed and waited.  The air was heavy with scents of
+medicine, and the drawn blinds flung grey, ghost-like shadows over the
+bed.  The old man seemed scarcely changed.  The light had gone from his
+eyes and his hand lay motionless on the sheets, and his lips moved
+continually in a never-ceasing murmur.
+
+Suddenly he turned and his eyes opened.  The nurse moved forward.
+"Where's Harry?"  He waved his arm feebly in the air.
+
+"I'm here, father," Harry said quietly.
+
+"Ah, that's good"--he sank back on the pillows again.  "I'm going to
+die, you know, and I'm lonely.  It's damned gloomy--got to die--don't
+want to--but got to."
+
+He felt for his son's hand, found it, and held it.  Then he passed off
+again into half-conscious sleep, and Harry watched, his hand in his
+father's and his thoughts with the girl and the boy who had rejected
+him rather than with the old man who had accepted him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+Meanwhile there was Robin--and he had been spending several very
+unhappy days.  In the gloom of his room, alone and depressed, he had
+been passing things in review.  He had never hitherto felt any very
+burning desire to know how he stood with the world; at school and
+Cambridge he had not thought at all--he had just, as it were, slid into
+things; his surroundings had grouped themselves of their own accord,
+making a delicately appreciative circle with no disturbing element.
+His friends had been of his own kind, the things that he had wished to
+do he had done, his thoughts had been dictated by set forms and
+customs.  This had seemed to him, hitherto, an extraordinarily broad
+outlook; he had never doubted for a moment its splendid infallibility.
+He applied the tests of his set to the world at large, and the world
+conformed.  Life was very easy on such terms, and he had been happy and
+contented.
+
+His meeting with Dahlia had merely lent a little colour to his pleasant
+complacency, and then, when it had threatened to become something more,
+he had ruthlessly cut it out.  This should have been simple enough, and
+he had been at a loss to understand why the affair had left any traces.
+Friends of his at college had had such episodes, and had been mildly
+amused at their rapid conclusion.  He had tried to be mildly amused at
+the conclusion of his own affair, but had failed miserably.  Why? ...
+he did not know.  He must be sensitive, he supposed; then, in that
+case, he had failed to reach the proper standard....  Randal was never
+sensitive.  But there had been other things.
+
+During the last week everything had seemed to be topsy-turvy.  He dated
+it definitely from the arrival of his father.  He recalled the day; his
+tie was badly made, he remembered, and he had been rather concerned
+about it.  How curious it all was; he must have changed since then,
+because now--well, ties seemed scarcely to matter at all.  He saw his
+father standing at the open window watching the lighted town....
+"Robin, old boy, we'll have a good time, you and I..."--and then Aunt
+Clare with her little cry of horror, and his father's hurried apology.
+That had been the beginning of things; one could see how it would go
+from the first.  Had it, after all, been so greatly his father's fault?
+He was surprised to find that he was regarding his uncle and aunt
+critically....  It had been their fault to a great extent--they had
+never given him a chance.  Then he remembered the next morning and his
+own curt refusal to his father's invitation--"He had books to pack for
+Randal!"  How absurd it was, and he wondered why he should have
+considered Randal so important.  He could have waited for the books.
+
+But these things depended entirely on his own sudden discovery that he
+had failed in a crisis--failed, and failed lamentably.  He did not
+believe that Randal would have failed.  Randal would not have worried
+about it for a moment.  What, then, was precisely the difference?  He
+had acted throughout according to the old set formula--he had applied
+all the rules of the game as he had learnt them, and nevertheless he
+had been beaten.  And so there had crept over him gradually, slowly,
+and at last overwhelmingly, the knowledge that the world that he had
+imagined was not the world as it is, that the people he had admired
+were not the only admirable people in it, and that the laws that had
+governed him were only a small fragment of the laws that rule the world.
+
+When this discovery first comes to a man the effect is deadening; like
+a ship that has lost its bearings he plunges in a sea of entangled,
+confused ideas with no assurances as to his own ability to reach any
+safe port whatever.  It is this crisis that marks the change from youth
+to manhood.
+
+Three weeks ago Robin had been absolutely confident, not only in
+himself, but in his relations, his House and his future; now he trusted
+in nothing.  But he had not yet arrived at the point when he could
+regard his own shortcomings as the cause of his unhappiness; he pointed
+to circumstances, his aunt, his uncle, Dahlia, even Randal, and he
+began a search for something more reliable.
+
+Of course, his aunt and uncle might have solved the problem for him; he
+had not dared to question them and they had never mentioned the subject
+themselves, but they did not look as though they had succeeded--he
+fancied that they had avoided him during the last few days.
+
+The serious illness of his grandfather still further complicated
+matters; he was not expected to live through the week.  Robin was
+sorry, but he had never seen very much of his grandfather; and it was,
+after all, only fitting that such a very old man should die some time;
+no, the point really was that his father would in a week's time be Sir
+Henry Trojan and head of the House--that was what mattered.
+
+Now his father was the one person whom he could find no excuse whatever
+for blaming.  He had stood entirely outside the affair from the
+beginning, and, as far as Robin could tell, knew nothing whatever about
+it.  Robin, indeed, had taken care that he should not interfere; he had
+been kept outside from the first.
+
+No, Robin could not blame his father for the state of things; perhaps,
+even, it might have been better if his advice had been asked.
+
+But everything drove him back to the ultimate fact from which, indeed,
+there was no escaping--that there was every prospect of his finding
+himself, within a few weeks' time, the interesting centre of a common
+affair in the Courts for Breach of Promise; and as this ultimate issue
+shone clearer and clearer Robin's terror increased in volume.  To his
+excited fancy, living and dead seemed to turn upon him.  Country
+cousins--the Rev. George Trojan of West Taunton, a clergyman whose
+evangelical tendencies had been the mock of the House; Colonel Trojan
+of Cheltenham, a Port-and-Pepper Indian, as Robin had scornfully called
+him; the Misses Trojan of Southsea, ladies of advanced years and
+slender purses, who always sent him a card at Christmas; Mrs. Adeline
+Trojan of Teignmouth, who had spent her life in beating at the doors of
+London Society and had retired at last, defeated, to the provincial
+gentility of a seaside town--Oh!  Robin had laughed at them all and
+scorned them again and again--and behold how the tables would be
+turned!  And the Dead!  Their scorn would be harder still to bear.  He
+had thought of them often enough and had long ago known their histories
+by heart.  He had gazed at their portraits in the Long Gallery until he
+knew every line of their faces: old Lady Trojan of 1640, a little like
+Rembrandt's "Lady with the Ruff," with her stern mouth and eyes and
+stiff white collar--she must have been a lady of character!  Sir
+Charles Trojan, her son, who plotted for William of Orange and was
+rewarded royally after the glorious Revolution; Lady Gossiter Trojan, a
+woman who had taken active part in the '45, and used "The Flutes" as a
+refuge for intriguing Jacobites; and, best of all, a dim black picture
+of a man in armour that hung over the mantel-piece, a portrait of a
+certain Sir Robert Trojan who had fought in the Barons' Wars and been a
+giant of his times; he had always been Robin's hero and had formed the
+centre of many an imaginary tapestry worked by Robin's brain--and now
+his descendant must pay costs in a Breach of Promise Case!
+
+They had all had their faults, those Trojans; some of them had robbed
+and murdered with little compunction, but they had always had their
+pride, they had never done anything really low--what they had done they
+had done with a high hand; Robin would be the first of the family to
+let them down.  And it was rather curious to think that, three weeks
+ago, it had been his father who was going to let them down.  Robin
+remembered with what indignation he had heard of his father's visits to
+the Cove, his friendship with Bethel and the rest--but surely it was
+they who had driven him out!  It was their own doing from the first--or
+rather his aunt and uncle's.  He was beginning to be annoyed with his
+aunt and uncle.  He felt vaguely that they had got him into the mess
+and were quite unable to pull him out again; which reflection brought
+him back to the original main business, namely, that there was a mess,
+and a bad one.
+
+It was one of his qualities of youth that he could not wait; patience
+was an utterly unlearned virtue, and this desperate uncertainty, this
+sitting like Damocles under a sword suspended by a hair, was hard to
+bear.  What was Dahlia doing?  Had she already taken steps?  He watched
+every post with terror lest it should contain a lawyer's writ.  He had
+the vaguest ideas about such things ... perhaps they would put him in
+prison.  To his excited fancy the letters seemed enormous--horrible,
+black, menacing, large for all the world to see.  What had Aunt Clare
+done?  His uncle?  And then, last of all, had his father any suspicions?
+
+Whether it was the London tailor, or simply the reassuring hand of
+custom, his father was certainly not the uncouth person he had seemed
+three weeks ago; in fact, Robin was beginning to think him rather
+handsome--such muscles and such a chest!--and he really carried himself
+very well, and indeed, loose, badly-made clothes suited him rather
+well.  And then he had changed so in other ways; there was none of that
+overwhelming cheerfulness, that terrible hail-fellow-well-met kind of
+manner now; he was brief and to the point, he seldom smiled, and surely
+it wasn't to be wondered at after the way in which they had treated him
+at the family council a week ago.
+
+There had been several occasions lately on which Robin would have liked
+to have spoken to his father.  He had begun, once, after breakfast, a
+halting conversation, but he had only received monosyllables as a
+reply--the thing had broken down painfully.  And so he went down to his
+aunt.
+
+It was her room again, and she was having tea with Uncle Garrett.
+Robin remembered the last occasion, only a week ago, when he had made
+his confession.  He had been afraid of hurting his aunt then, he
+remembered.  He did not mind very much now ... he saw his aunt and
+uncle as two people suddenly grown effete, purposeless, incapable.
+They seemed to have changed altogether, which only meant that he was,
+at last, finding himself.
+
+There hung a gloom over Clare's tea-table, partly, no doubt, because of
+Sir Jeremy--the old man with the wrinkled hands and parchment face
+seemed to follow one, noiselessly, remorselessly, through every passage
+and into every room ... but there was also something else--that tension
+always noticeable in a room where people whose recent action towards
+some common goal is undeclared are gathered together; they were waiting
+for some one else to make the next move.
+
+And it was Robin who made it, asking at once, as he dropped the sugar
+into his cup and balanced for a moment the tongs in the air: "Well,
+Aunt Clare, what have you done?"
+
+She noticed at once that he asked it a little scornfully, as though
+assured beforehand that she had done very little.  There was a note of
+antagonism in the way that he had spoken, a hint, even, of challenge.
+She knew at once that he had changed during the last week, and again,
+knowing as she did of her failure with the girl, and guessing perhaps
+at its probable sequence, she hated Harry from the bottom of her heart.
+
+"Done?  Why, how, Robin dear?  I don't advise those tea-cakes--they're
+heavy.  I must speak to Wilson--she's been a little careless lately;
+those biscuits are quite nice.  Done, dear?"
+
+"Yes, aunt--about Miss Feverel.  No, I don't want anything to eat,
+thanks--it seems only an hour or so since lunch--yes--about--well,
+those letters?"
+
+Clare looked up at him pleadingly.  He was speaking a little like
+Harry; she had noticed during the last week that he had several things
+in common with his father--little things, the way that he wrinkled his
+forehead, pushed back his hair with his hand; she was not sure that it
+was not conscious imitation, and indeed it had seemed to her during the
+last week that every day drew him further from herself and nearer to
+Harry.  She had counted on this affair as a means of reclaiming him,
+and now she must confess failure--Oh! it was hard!
+
+"Well, Robin, I have tried----"  She paused.
+
+"Well?" he said drily, waiting.
+
+"I'm afraid it wasn't much of a success," she said, trying to laugh.
+"I suppose that really I'm not good at that sort of thing."
+
+"At what sort of thing?"
+
+He stood over her like a judge, the certainty of her failure the only
+thing that he could grasp.  He did not recognise her own love for him,
+her fear lest he should be angry; he was merciless as he had been three
+weeks ago with his father, as he had been with Dahlia Feverel, and for
+the same reason--because each had taken from him some of that armour of
+self-confidence in which he had so greatly trusted; the winds of the
+heath were blowing about him and he stood, stripped, shivering, before
+the world.
+
+"She was not good at that sort of thing"--that was exactly it, exactly
+the summary of his new feeling about his aunt and uncle; they were not
+able to cope with that hard, new world into which he had been so
+suddenly flung--they were, he scornfully considered, "tea-table"
+persons, and in so judging them he condemned himself.
+
+"I'm so very sorry, dear.  I did my very best.  I went to see
+the--um--Miss Feverel, and we talked about them.  But I'm afraid that I
+couldn't persuade her--she seemed determined----"
+
+"What did she say?"
+
+"Oh, very little--only that she considered that the letters were hers
+and that therefore she had every right to keep them if she liked.  She
+seemed to attach some especial, rather sentimental value to them, and
+considered, apparently, that it would be quite impossible to give them
+up."
+
+"How was she looking--ill?"  It had been one of Robin's consolations
+during these weeks to imagine her pale, wretched, broken down.
+
+"Oh no, extremely well.  She seemed rather amused at the whole affair.
+I was not there very long."
+
+"And is that all you have done?  Have you, I mean, taken any other
+steps?"
+
+"Yes--I wrote yesterday morning.  I got an answer this morning."
+
+"What was it?" Robin spoke eagerly.  Perhaps his aunt had some surprise
+in store and would produce the letters suddenly; surely Dahlia would
+not have written unless she had relented.
+
+Clare went to her writing-table and returned with the letter, held
+gingerly between finger and thumb.
+
+"I'm afraid it's not very long," she said, laughing nervously, and
+again looking at Robin appealingly.  "I had written asking her to think
+over what she had said to me the day before.  She says:
+
+
+"'DEAR Miss TROJAN--Surely the matter is closed after what happened the
+other day?  I am extremely sorry that you should be troubled by my
+decision; but it is, I am afraid, unalterable.--Yours truly,
+
+D. FEVEREL.'"
+
+
+"Her decision?" cried Robin quickly.  "Had she told you anything?  Had
+she decided anything?"
+
+"Only that she would keep the letters," answered Clare slowly.  "You
+couldn't expect me, Robin dear, to argue with her about it.  One had,
+after all, one's dignity."
+
+"Oh! it's no use!" cried Robin.  "She means to use them--of course,
+it's all plain enough; we've just got to face it, I suppose"; and then,
+as a forlorn hope, turning to his uncle--
+
+"You've done nothing, I suppose, Uncle Garrett?"
+
+His uncle had hitherto taken no part in the discussion, but sat intent
+on the book that he was reading.  Now he answered, without looking up--
+
+"Yes--I saw the girl."
+
+"You saw her?" from Clare.
+
+"What!  Dahlia!" from Robin.
+
+"Yes, I called."  He laid the book down on his knee and enjoyed the
+effect of his announcement.  He could be important for a moment at any
+rate, although he must, with his next words, confess failure, so he
+prolonged the situation.  "Some more tea, Clare, please, and not quite
+so strong this time--you might speak about the tea--why not make it
+yourself?"
+
+She took his cup and went over to the tea-table.  She knew how to play
+the game as well as he did, and she showed no astonishment or vulgar
+curiosity, but if he had succeeded where she had failed she must change
+her hand.  She had never thought very much about Garrett; he was a
+thorough Trojan--for that she was very grateful, but he had always been
+more of an emblem to her than a man.  Now if he had got the letters she
+was humiliated indeed.  Robin would despise her for having failed where
+his uncle had succeeded.
+
+"Well, have you got them?"
+
+Robin bent forward eagerly.
+
+"No, not precisely," Garrett answered deliberately.  "But I went to see
+her----"
+
+"With what result?"
+
+"With no precise result--that is to say, she did not promise to
+surrender them--not immediately.  But I have every hope----"  He paused
+mysteriously.
+
+"Of what?"  If his uncle had really a chance of getting them, he was
+not such a fool after all.  Perhaps he was a cleverer man than one gave
+him credit for being.
+
+"Well, of course, one has very little ground for any real assertion,
+but we discussed the matter at some length.  I think I convinced her
+that it would be her wisest course to deliver up the letters as soon as
+might be, and I assured her that we would let the matter rest there and
+take no further steps.  I think she was impressed," and he sipped his
+tea slowly and solemnly.
+
+"Impressed!  Yes, but what has she promised?" Robin cried impatiently.
+He knew Dahlia better than they did, and he did not feel somehow that
+she was very likely to be impressed with Uncle Garrett.  He was not the
+kind of man.
+
+"Promised?  No, not a precise promise--but she was quite pleasant and
+seemed to be open to argument--quite a nice young person."
+
+"Ah! you have done nothing!"  There was a note of relief in Clare's
+exclamation.  "Why not say so at once, Garrett, instead of beating
+about the bush?  There is an end of it.  We have failed, Robin, both of
+us; we are where we were before, and what to do next I really don't
+know."
+
+It was rather a comfort to drag Garrett into it as well.  She was glad
+that he had tried; it made her own failure less noticeable.
+
+Robin looked at both of them, gloomily, from the fireplace.  Aunt
+Clare, handsome, aristocratic, perfectly well fitted to pour out tea in
+any society, but useless, useless, useless when it came to the real
+thing; Uncle Garrett and his eyeglass, trying to make the most of a
+situation in which he had most obviously failed--no, they were no good
+either of them, and three weeks ago they had seemed the ultimate
+standard by which his own life was to be tested.  How quickly one
+learnt!
+
+"Well, what is to be done?" he said desperately.  "It's plain enough
+that she means to stick to the things; and, after all, there can only
+be one reason for her doing it--she means to use them.  I can see no
+way out of it at all--one must just stand up to it."
+
+"We'll think, dear, we'll think," said Clare eagerly.  "Ideas are sure
+to come if we only wait."
+
+"Wait!  But we can't wait!" cried Robin.  "She'll move at once.
+Probably the letters are in the lawyer's hands already."
+
+"Then there's nothing to be done," said Garrett comfortably, settling
+back again into his book--he was, he flattered himself, a man of most
+excellent practical sense.
+
+"No, it really seems, Robin, as if we had better wait," said Clare.
+"We must have patience.  Perhaps after all she has taken no steps."
+
+But Robin was angry.  He had long ago forgotten his share in the
+business; he had adopted so successfully the role of injured sufferer
+that his own actions seemed to him almost meritorious.  But he was very
+angry with them.  Here they were, in the face of a family crisis,
+deliberately adopting a policy of _laissez-faire_; he had done his best
+and had failed, but he was young and ignorant of the world (that at
+least he now admitted), but they were old, experienced, wise--or, at
+least, they had always seemed to him to stand for experience and
+wisdom, and yet they could do nothing--nay, worse--they seemed to wish
+to do nothing--Oh! he was angry with them!
+
+The whole room with its silver and knick-knacks--its beautifully worked
+cushions and charming water-colours, its shining rows of complete
+editions and dainty china stood to him now for incapacity.  Three weeks
+ago it had seemed his Holy of Holies.
+
+"But we can't wait," he repeated--"we can't!  Don't you see, Aunt
+Clare, she isn't the sort of girl that waiting does for?  She'd never
+dream of waiting herself."  Dahlia seemed, by contrast with their
+complacent acquiescence, almost admirable.
+
+"Well, dear," Clare answered, "your uncle and I have both tried--I
+think that we may be alarming ourselves unnecessarily.  I must say she
+didn't seem to me to bear any grudge against you.  I daresay she will
+leave things as they are----"
+
+"Then why keep the letters?"
+
+"Oh, sentiment.  It would remind her, you see----"
+
+But Robin could only repeat--"No, she's not that kind of girl," and
+marvel, perplexedly, at their short-sightedness.
+
+And then he approached the point--
+
+"There is, of course," he said slowly, "one other person who might help
+us----"  He paused.
+
+Garrett put his book down and looked up.  Clare leaned towards him.
+
+"Yes?"  Clare looked slightly incredulous of any suggested remedy--but
+apparently composed and a little tired of all this argument.  But, in
+reality, her heart was beating furiously.  Had it come at last?--that
+first mention of his father that she had dreaded for so many days.
+
+"I really cannot think----" from Garrett.
+
+"Why not my father?"
+
+Again it seemed to Clare that she and Harry were struggling for Robin
+... since that first moment of his entry they had struggled--she with
+her twenty years of faithful service, he with nothing--Oh! it was
+unfair!
+
+"But, Robin," she said gently--"you can't--not, at least, after what
+has happened.  This is an affair for ourselves--for the family."
+
+"But _he_ is the family!"
+
+"Well, in a sense, yes.  But his long absence--his different way of
+looking at things--make it rather hard.  It would be better, wouldn't
+it, to settle it here, without its going further."
+
+"To _settle_ it, yes--but we can't--we don't--we are leaving things
+quite alone--waiting--when we ought to do something."
+
+Robin knew that she was showing him that his father was still outside
+the circle--that for herself and Uncle Garrett recent events had made
+no difference.
+
+But was he outside the circle?  Why should he be?  At any rate he would
+soon be head of the House, and then it would matter very little----
+
+"Also," Clare added, "he will scarcely have time just now.  He is with
+father all day--and I don't see what he could do, after all."
+
+"He could see her," said Robin slowly.  He suddenly remembered that
+Dahlia had once expressed great admiration for his father--she was the
+very woman to like that kind of man.  A hurried mental comparison
+between his father and Uncle Garrett favoured the idea.
+
+"He could see her," he said again.  "I think she might like him."
+
+"My dear boy," said Garrett, "take it from me that what a man could do
+I've done.  I assure you it's useless.  Your father is a very excellent
+man, but, I must confess, in my opinion scarcely a diplomat----"
+
+"Well, at any rate it's worth trying," cried Robin impatiently.  "We
+must, I suppose, eat humble pie after the things you said to him, Aunt
+Clare, the other day, but I must confess it's the only chance.  He will
+be decent about it, I'm sure--I think you scarcely realise how nasty it
+promises to be."
+
+"Who is to ask?" said Garrett.
+
+"I will ask him," said Clare suddenly.  "Perhaps after all Robin is
+right--he might do something."
+
+It might, she thought, be the best thing.  Unless he tried, Robin would
+always consider him capable of succeeding--but he should try and
+fail--fail!  Why, of course he would fail.
+
+"Thank you, Aunt Clare."  Robin walked to the door and then turned:
+"Soon would be best"--then he closed the door behind him.
+
+His father was coming down the stairs as he passed through the hall.
+He saw him against the light of the window and he half turned as though
+to speak to him--but his father gave no sign; he looked very
+stern--perhaps his grandfather was dead.
+
+The sudden fear--the terror of death brought very close to him for the
+first time--caught him by the throat.
+
+"He is not dead?" he whispered.
+
+"He is asleep," Harry said, stopping for a moment on the last step of
+the stairs and looking at him across the hall--"I am afraid that he
+won't live through the night."
+
+They had both spoken softly, and the utter silence of the house, the
+heaviness of the air so that it seemed to hang in thick clouds above
+one's head, drove Robin out.  He looked as though he would speak, and
+then, with bent head, passed into the garden.
+
+He felt most miserably lonely and depressed--if he hadn't been so old
+and proud he would have hidden in one of the bushes and cried.  It was
+all so terrible--his grandfather, that weighty, eerie impression of
+Death felt for the first time, the dreadful uncertainty of the Feverel
+affair, all things were quite enough for misery, but this feeling of
+loneliness was new to him.
+
+He had always had friends, but even when they had failed him there had
+been behind them the House--its traditions, its records, its
+history--his aunt and uncle, and, most reassuring of all, himself.
+
+But now all these had failed him.  His friends were vaguely
+unattractive; Randal was terribly superficial, he was betraying the
+House; his aunt and uncle were unsatisfactory, and for himself--well,
+he wasn't quite so splendid as he had once thought.  He was wretchedly
+dissatisfied with it all and felt that he would give all the polish and
+culture in the world for a simple, unaffected friendship in which he
+could trust.
+
+"Some one," he said angrily, "that would do something"--and his
+thoughts were of his father.
+
+It was dark now, and he went down to the sea, because he liked the
+white flash of the waves as they broke on the beach--this sudden
+appearing and disappearing and the rustle of the pebbles as they turned
+slowly back and vanished into the night again.
+
+He liked, too, the myriad lights of the town: the rows of lamps, rising
+tier on tier into the night sky, like people in some great amphitheatre
+waiting in silence for the rising of a mighty curtain.  He always
+thought on these nights of Germany--Germany, Worms, the little
+bookseller, the distant gleam of candles in the Cathedrals, the flash
+of the sun through the trees over the Rhine, the crooked, cobbled
+streets at night with the moon like a lamp and the gabled roofs
+flinging wild shadows over the stones ... the night-sea brought it very
+close and carried Randal and Cambridge and Dahlia Feverel very far
+away, although he did not know why.
+
+He watched the light of the town and the waves and the great flashing
+eye of the lighthouse and then turned back.  As he climbed the steps up
+the cliff he heard some one behind him, and, turning, saw that it was
+Mary Bethel.  She said "Good-night" quickly and was going to pass him,
+but he stopped her.
+
+"I haven't seen you for ages, Mary," he said.  He resolved to speak to
+her.  She knew his father and had always been a good sort--perhaps she
+would help him.
+
+"Are you coming back, Robin?" she said, stopping and smiling.  There
+was a lamp at the top of the cliff where the road ran past the steps,
+and by the light of it he saw that she had been crying.  But he was too
+much occupied with his own affairs to consider the matter very deeply,
+and then girls cried so easily.
+
+"Yes," he said, "let us go round by the road and the Chapel--it's a
+splendid night; besides, we don't seem to have met recently.  We've
+both been busy, I suppose, and I've a good deal to talk about."
+
+"If you like," she said, rather listlessly.  It would, at least, save
+her from her own thoughts and protect her perhaps from the ceaseless
+repetition of that scene of three days ago when she had turned the man
+that she loved more than all the world away and had lied to him because
+she was proud.
+
+And so at first she scarcely listened to him.  They walked down the
+road that ran along the top of the cliff and the great eye of the
+lighthouse wheeled upon them, flashed and vanished; she saw the room
+with its dingy carpet and wide-open window, and she heard his voice
+again and saw his hands clenched--oh! she had been a fine fool!  So it
+was little wonder that she did not hear his son.
+
+But Robin had at last an audience and he knew no mercy.  All the
+agitation of the last week came pouring forth--he lost all sense of
+time and place; he was at the end of the world addressing infinity on
+the subject of his woes, and it says a good deal for his vanity and not
+much for his sense of humour that he did not feel the lack of
+proportion in such a position.
+
+"It was a girl, you know--perhaps you've met her--a Miss
+Feverel--Dahlia Feverel.  I met her at Cambridge and we got rather
+thick, and then I wrote to her--rot, you know, like one does--and when
+I wanted to get back the letters she wouldn't let me have them, and
+she's going to use them, I'm afraid, for--well--Breach of Promise!"
+
+He paused and waited for the effect of the announcement, but it never
+came; she was walking quickly, with her head lifted to catch the wind
+that blew from the sea--he could not be certain that she had heard.
+
+"Breach of Promise!" he repeated impressively.  "It would be rather an
+awful thing for people in our position if it really came to that--it
+would be beastly for me.  Of course, I meant nothing by it--the
+letters, I mean--a chap never does.  Everybody at Cambridge talks to
+girls--the girls like it--but she took it seriously, and now she may
+bring it down on our heads at any time, and you can't think how beastly
+it is waiting for it to come.  We've done all we could--all of us--and
+now I can tell you it's been worrying me like anything wondering what
+she's done.  My uncle and aunt both tried and failed; I was rather
+disappointed, because after all one would have thought that they would
+be able to deal with a thing like that, wouldn't one?"
+
+He paused again, but she only said "Yes" and hurried on.
+
+"So now I'm at my wits' end and I thought that you might help me."
+
+"Why not your father?" she said suddenly.
+
+"Ah! that's just it," he answered eagerly.  "That's where I wanted you
+to give me your advice.  You see--well, it's a little hard to
+explain--we weren't very nice to the governor when he came back
+first--the first day or two, I mean.  He was--well, different--didn't
+look at things as we did; liked different things and had strong views
+about knocking down the Cove.  So we went on our way and didn't pay
+much attention to him--I daresay he's told you all about it--and I'm
+sorry enough now, although it really was largely his own fault!  I
+don't think he seemed to want us to have much to do with him, and then
+one day Clare spoke to him about things and asked him to consider us a
+little and he flared up.
+
+"Well, I've a sort of idea that he could help us now--at any rate,
+there's no one else.  Aunt Clare said that she would ask him, but you
+know him better than any of us, and, of course, it is a little
+difficult for us, after the way that we've spoken to him; you might
+help us, I thought."
+
+He couldn't be sure, even now, that Mary had been listening--she looked
+so strange this evening that he was afraid of her, and half wished that
+he had kept his affairs to himself.  She was silent for a moment,
+because she was wondering what it was that Harry had really done about
+the letters.  It was amusing, because they obviously didn't know that
+she had told him--but what had he done?
+
+"Do you want me to help you, Robin?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, of course," he answered eagerly.  "You know him so well and could
+get him to do things that he would never do for us.  I'm afraid of him,
+or rather have been just lately.  I don't know what there is about him
+exactly."
+
+"You want me to help you?" she asked again.  "Well then, you've got to
+put up with a bit of my mind--you've caught me in a bad mood, and I
+don't care whether it hurts you or not--you're in for a bit of plain
+speaking."
+
+He looked up at her with surprise, but said nothing.
+
+"Oh, I know I'm no very great person myself," she went on
+quickly--almost fiercely.  "I've only known in the last few weeks how
+rotten one can really be, but at least I have known--I do know--and
+that's just what you don't.  We've been friends for some time, you and
+I--but if you don't look out, we shan't be friends much longer."
+
+"Why?" he asked quietly.
+
+"You were never very much good," she went on, paying no attention to
+his question, "and always conceited, but that was your aunt's fault as
+much as any one's, and she gave you that idea of your family--that you
+were God's own chosen people and that no one could come within speaking
+distance of you--you had that when you were quite a little boy, and you
+seem to have thought that that was enough, that you need never do
+anything all your life just because you were a Trojan.  Eton helped the
+idea, and when you went up to Cambridge you were a snob of the first
+order.  I thought Cambridge would knock it out of you, but it didn't;
+it encouraged you, and you were always with people who thought as you
+did, and you fancied that your own little corner of the earth--your own
+little potato-patch--was better than every one else's gardens; I
+thought you were a pretty poor thing when you came back from Cambridge
+last year, but now you've beaten my expectations by a good deal----"
+
+"I say----" he broke in--"really I----" but she went on unheeding--
+
+"Instead of working and doing something like any decent man would, you
+loafed along with your friends learning to tie your tie and choosing
+your waistcoat-buttons; you go and make love to a decent girl and then
+when you've tired of her tell her so, and seem surprised at her hitting
+back.
+
+"Then at last when there is a chance of your seeing what a man is
+like--that he isn't only a man who dresses decently like a tailor's
+model--when your father comes back and asks you to spend a few of your
+idle hours with him, you laugh at him, his manners, his habits, his
+friends, his way of thinking; you insult him and cut him dead--your
+father, one of the finest men in the world.  Why, you aren't fit to
+brush his clothes!--but that isn't the worst!  Now--when you find
+you're in a hole and you want some one to help you out of it and you
+don't know where to turn, you suddenly think of your father.  He wasn't
+any good before--he was rough and stupid, almost vulgar, but now that
+he can help you, you'll turn and play the dutiful son!
+
+"That's you as you are, Robin Trojan--you asked me for it and you've
+got it; it's just as well that you should see yourself as you are for
+once in your life--you'll forget it all again soon enough.  I'm not
+saying it's only you--it's the lot of you--idle, worthless, snobbish,
+empty, useless.  Help you?  No!  You can go to your father yourself and
+think yourself lucky if he will speak to you."
+
+Mary stopped for lack of breath.  Of course, he couldn't know that
+she'd been attacking herself as much as him, that, had it not been for
+that scene three days ago, she would never have spoken at all.
+
+"I say!" he said quietly, "is it really as bad as that?  Am I that sort
+of chap?"
+
+"Yes.  You know it now at least."
+
+"It's not quite fair.  I am only like the rest.  I----"
+
+"Yes, but why should you be?  Fancy being proud that you are like the
+rest!  One of a crowd!"
+
+They turned up the road to her house, and she began to relent when she
+saw that he was not angry.
+
+"No," he said, nodding his head slowly, "I expect you're about right,
+Mary.  Things have been happening lately that have made everything
+different--I've been thinking ...  I see my father differently...."
+
+Then, "How could you?" she cried.  "_You_ to cut him and turn him out?
+Oh!  Robin! you weren't always that sort----"
+
+"No," he answered.  "I wasn't once.  In Germany I was different--when I
+got away from things--but it's harder here"--and then again
+slowly--"But am I really as bad as that, Mary?"
+
+Sudden compunction seized her.  What right had she to speak to him?
+After all, he was only a boy, and she was every bit as bad herself.
+
+"Oh!  I don't know!" she said wearily.  "I'm all out of sorts to-night,
+Robin.  We're neither of us fit to speak to him, and you've treated him
+badly, all of you--I oughtn't to have spoken as I did, perhaps; but
+here we are!  You'd better forget it, and another day I'll tell you
+some of the nice things about you----"
+
+"Am I that sort of chap?" he said again, staring in front of him with
+his hand on the gate.  She said good-night and left him standing in the
+road.  He turned up the hill, with his head bent.  He was scarcely
+surprised and not at all angry.  It only seemed the climax to so many
+things that had happened lately--"a snob"--"a pretty poor thing"--"You
+don't work, you learn to choose your waistcoat-buttons"--that was the
+kind of chap he was.  And his father: "One of the finest men there
+is----"  He'd missed his chance, perhaps, he would never get it again!
+But he would try!
+
+He passed into the garden and fumbled for his latch-key.  He would
+speak to his father to-morrow!
+
+Mary was quite right ... he _was_ a "pretty poor thing!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+That night was never forgotten by any one at "The Flutes."  Down in the
+servants' hall they prolonged their departure for bed to a very late
+hour, and then crept, timorously, to their rooms; they were extravagant
+with the electric light, and dared Benham's anger in order to secure a
+little respite from terrible darkness.  Stories were recalled of Sir
+Jeremy's kindness and good nature, and much speculation was indulged in
+as to his successor--the cook recalled her early youth and an
+engagement with a soldier that aroused such sympathy in her hearers
+that she fraternised, unexpectedly, with Clare's maid--a girl who had
+formerly been considered "haughty," but was now found to be agreeable
+and pleasant.
+
+Above stairs there was the same restlessness and sense of uneasy
+expectancy.  Clare went to bed, but not to sleep.  Her mind was not
+with her father--she had been waiting for his death during many long
+weeks, and now that the time had arrived she could scarcely think of it
+otherwise than calmly.  If one had lived like a Trojan one would die
+like one--quietly, becomingly, in accordance with the best traditions.
+She was sure that there would be something ready for Trojans in the
+next world a little different from other folks' destiny--something
+select and refined--so why worry at going to meet it?
+
+No, it was not Sir Jeremy, but Robin.  Throughout the night she heard
+the clocks striking the quarters; the first light of dawn crept timidly
+through the shuttered blinds, the full blaze of the sun streamed on to
+her bed--and she could not sleep.  The conversation of the day before
+recalled itself syllable for syllable; she read into it things that had
+never been there and tortured herself with suspicion and doubt.  Robin
+was different--utterly different.  He was different even from a week
+ago when he had first told them of the affair.  She could hear his
+voice as he had bent over her asking her to forgive him; that had
+seemed to her then the hour of her triumph--but now she saw that it was
+the premonition of defeat.  How she had worked for him, loved him,
+spoilt him; and now, in these weeks, her lifework was utterly undone.
+And then, in the terrible loneliness of her room, with the darkness on
+the world and round her bed and at her heart, she wept--terrible,
+tearless sobbing that left her in the morning weak, unstrung, utterly
+unequal to the day.
+
+This conversation with Robin had also worried Garrett.  The consolation
+that he had frequently found in the reassuring comforts of his study
+seemed utterly wanting to-night.  The stillness irritated him;  it
+seemed stuffy, close, and he had an overmastering desire for a
+companion.  This desire he conquered, because he felt that it would be
+scarcely dignified to search the byways of the house for a friend; but
+he listened for steps, and fancied over and over again that he heard
+the eagerly anticipated knock.  But no one came, and he sat far into
+the night, fancying strange sounds and trembling at the dark; and at
+last fell asleep in his chair, and was discovered in an undignified
+position on the floor in the early morning by the politely astonished
+Benham.
+
+But it was for Harry that the night most truly marked a crisis.  He
+spent it in vigil by the side of his father, and watched the heavy
+passing of the hours, like grey solemn figures through the darkened
+room.  The faint glimmer of the electric light, heavily shaded, assumed
+fantastic and portentous shapes and fleecy enormous shadows on the
+white surface of the staring walls.  Strange blue shadows glimmered
+through the black caverns of the windows, and faint lights came from
+beneath the door, and hovered on the ceiling like mysteriously moving
+figures.
+
+Sir Jeremy was perfectly still.  Death had come to him very gently and
+had laid its hand quietly upon him, with no violence or harshness.  It
+was only old age that had greeted him as a friend, and then with a
+smile had persuaded him to go.  He was unconscious now, but at any
+moment his senses might return, and then he would ask for Harry.  The
+crisis might come at any time, and Harry must be there.
+
+He felt no weariness; his brain was extraordinarily active and he
+passed every incident since his return in review.  It all seemed so
+clear to him now; the inevitability of it all; and his own blindness in
+escaping the meaning of it.  It seemed now that he had known nothing of
+the world at all three weeks ago.  Then he had judged it from his own
+knowledge--now he saw it in many lights; the point of view of Robin, of
+Dahlia Feverel, of Clare, of Sir Jeremy, of Bethel, of Mary--he had
+arrived at the great knowledge that Life could be absolutely right for
+many different sorts of people--that the same life, like a globe of
+flashing colours, could shine into every corner of obscurity, gleaming
+differently in every different place and yet be unchangeable.
+Murderer, robber, violator, saint, priest, king, beggar--they were all
+parts of a wonderful, inevitable world, and, he saw it now, were all of
+them essential.  He had been tolerant before from a wide-embracing
+charity; he was tolerant now from a wide-embracing knowledge: "Er
+liebte jeden Hund, und wuenschte von jedem Hund geliebt zu sein."
+
+They had all learnt in that last three weeks.  Dahlia Feverel would
+pass into the world with that struggle at her heart and the strength of
+her victory--his father would solve the greatest question of
+all--Robin!  Mary!  Clare!--they had all been learning too, but what it
+was that they had learnt he could not yet tell; the conclusion of the
+matter was to come.  But it had all been, for him at least, only a
+prelude; he was to stand for the world as head of the House, he had his
+life before him and his work to do, he had only, like Robin, just "come
+of age."
+
+He did not know why, but he had no longer any doubt.  He knew that he
+would win Robin, he knew that he would win Mary; up to that day he had
+been uncertain, vacillating, miserable--but now he had no longer any
+hesitation.  The work of his life was to fit Robin for his due
+succession, and, please God, he would do it with all his heart and soul
+and strength; there was to be no false sentiment, no shifting of
+difficult questions, no hiding from danger, no sheltering blindly under
+unquestioned creeds, no false bids for popularity.
+
+Robin was to be clean, straight, and sane, with all the sturdy
+cleanliness and strength and sanity that his father's love and
+knowledge could give him.
+
+Oh! he loved his son!--but no longer blindly, as he had loved him three
+weeks ago ... and so he faced his future.
+
+And of Mary, too, he was sure.  He knew that she loved him; he had seen
+her face in the mirror as her lips had said "No," and he saw that her
+heart had said "Yes."  With the new strength that had come to him he
+vowed to force her defences and carry her away....  Oh! he could be any
+knight and fight for any lady.
+
+But as he sat by the bed, watching the dawn struggle through the blinds
+and listening to the faint, clear twittering of birds in the grey,
+dew-swept garden--he wished that he could tell his father of his
+engagement.  He wondered if there would be time.  That it would please
+the old man he knew, and it would seal the compact, and place a secret
+blessing on their married life together.  Yes, he would like to tell
+him.
+
+The clocks struck five--he heard their voices echo through the house;
+and, at the last, the tiny voice of the cuckoo clock sounded and the
+little wild flap of his wings came quite clearly through the silence;
+his voice was answered by a chorus from the garden, the voices of the
+birds seemed to grow ever louder and louder; in that strange dark room,
+with its shaded lights and heavy airs, it was clear and fresh like the
+falling of water on cold, shining stone.
+
+Harry went softly to the window and drew back a corner of the blind.
+The dawn was gradually revealing the forms and colours of the garden,
+and in the grey, misty light things were mysterious and uncertain; like
+white lights in a dusky room the two white statues shone through the
+mist.  At that strange hour they seemed in their right atmosphere; they
+seemed to move and turn and bend--he could have fancied that they
+sailed on the mist--that, for a moment, they had vanished and then that
+they had grown enormous, monstrous.  He watched them eagerly, and as
+the light grew clearer he made them out more plainly--the straight,
+eager beauty of the man, the dim, mysterious grace of the woman.
+Perhaps they talked in those early hours when they were alone in the
+garden; perhaps they might speak to him if he were to join them then.
+Then he fancied that the mist formed into figures of men and women; to
+his excited fancy the garden seemed peopled with shapes that increased
+and dwindled and vanished.  Round the statues many shapes gathered; one
+in especial seemed to walk to and fro with its face turned to the
+house.  It was a woman--her grey dress floated in the air, and he saw
+her form outlined against the statue.  Then the mist seemed to sweep
+down again and catch the statues in its eddies and hide them from his
+gaze.  The dawn was breaking very slowly.  From the window the sweep of
+the sea was, in daylight, perfectly visible: now in the dim grey of the
+sky it was hidden--but Harry knew where it must be and watched for its
+appearance.  The first lights were creeping over the sky, breaking in
+delicate tints and ripples of silver and curving, arc-shaped, from the
+west to the east.
+
+Where sky and sea divided a faint pale line of grey hovered and broke,
+turning into other paler lights of the most delicate blue.  The dawn
+had come.
+
+He turned back again to the garden and started with surprise: in the
+more certain light there was no doubt that it was a woman who stood
+there by the statues, guarding the first early beauties of the garden.
+Everything was pearl-grey, save where, high above the water of the
+fountain that stood in the centre of the lawn, the sky had broken into
+a little lake of the palest blue and this was reflected in the still
+mirror of the fountain--but it _was_ a woman.  He could see the outline
+of her form--the bend of her neck as she turned with her face to the
+house, the straight line of her arms as they tell at her sides.  And,
+as he looked, his heart began to beat thickly.  He seemed to recognise
+that carriage of the body from the hips, the fling-back of the head as
+she stared towards the windows.
+
+The light of the dawn was breaking over the garden, the chorus of the
+birds was loud in the trees, and he knew that it was no dream.
+
+He glanced for a moment at his father, and then crept softly from the
+room.  He found one of the nurses making tea over a spirit-lamp in the
+dressing-room and asked her to take his place.
+
+The house was perfectly silent as he opened the French window of the
+drawing-room and stepped on to the lawn.  The grass was heavy with dew
+and the fresh air beat about his face; he had never known anything
+quite so fresh--the air, the grass, the trees, the birds' song like the
+sound of hidden waters tumbling on to some unseen rock.
+
+Her face was turned away from him and his feet made no sound on the
+grass.  He came perfectly silently towards her, and then when he saw
+that it had indeed been no imagination but that it was reality, and
+when he knew all that her coming there meant and what it implied, for
+moment his limbs shook so that he could scarcely stand.  Then he
+laughed a little and said "Mary!"
+
+She turned with a little cry, and when she saw who it was the crimson
+flooded her face, changing it as the rising sun was soon to change the
+grey of the sea and the garden.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, "I didn't know--I didn't mean.  I----"
+
+"It is going to be a lovely day," he said quietly, "the sun will be up
+in a moment.  I have been watching you from my father's window."
+
+"Oh!  You mustn't!" she cried eagerly.  "I thought that I was
+safe--absolutely; I was here quite by chance--really I was--I couldn't
+sleep, and I thought that I would watch the sunrise over the sea--and I
+went down to the beach--and then--well, there was the little wood by
+your garden, and it was so wonderfully still and silent, and I saw
+those statues gleaming through the trees, and they looked so beautiful
+that I came nearer.  I meant to come only for a moment and then go away
+again--but--I--stayed----"
+
+But he could scarcely hear what she said; he only saw her standing
+there with her dress trembling a little in the breeze.
+
+"Mary," he said, "you did not mean what you told me the other day?"
+
+She looked at him for a moment and then suddenly flung out her hands
+and touched his coat.  "No," she answered.
+
+For a moment they were utterly silent.  Then he took her into his arms.
+
+"I love you!  How I love you!"
+
+Her hair was about his face, for a moment her face was buried in his
+coat, then she lifted it and their lips met.
+
+He shook from head to foot, he crushed her to him, then he released her.
+
+She glanced up at him with her hand still touching his coat and looked
+into his eyes.
+
+"I will love you and serve you and honour you always," she said.  She
+took his arm and they passed down the lawn and watched the light
+breaking over the sea.  The sky was broken into thousands of fleecy
+clouds of mother-of-pearl--the sea was trembling as though the sun had
+whispered that it was near at hand, and, on the horizon, the first bars
+of pale gold heralded its coming.
+
+"I have loved you," he said, "since the first moment that I saw you--I
+gave you tea and muffins; I deserted the Miss Ponsonbys in order to
+serve you."
+
+"And I too!" she answered, laughing.  "I could not eat the muffin for
+love of you, and I was jealous of the Miss Ponsonbys!"
+
+"Why did you turn me out the other day?"
+
+"They had been talking--mother and the others; and I was hurt terribly,
+and I thought that you would hear what they had said and would think,
+perhaps, that it was true and would despise me.  And then after you had
+gone, I knew that nothing in the world could make any difference--that
+they could say what they pleased, but that I could not live without
+you--you see I am very young!"
+
+"Oh, and I am so old, dear!  You mustn't forget that!  Do you think
+that you could ever put up with any one as old as I am?"
+
+She laughed.  "You are just the same age as myself," she cried.  "You
+will always be the same age, and I am not sure but I think that you are
+younger----"
+
+And suddenly the sun had risen--a great ball of fire changing all the
+blue of the sky to red and gold, and they watched as the gods had
+watched the flaming ruin of Valhalla.
+
+But the daylight drove them to other thoughts.
+
+"I must go back," she said.  "I will go down to the shore and perhaps
+will meet father.  Oh! you don't know what I have suffered during these
+last few days.  I thought that perhaps I had driven you away and that
+you would never come back--and then I had a silly idea that I would
+watch your windows--and so I came----"
+
+"Why!  I have watched yours!" he cried--"often!  Oh! we will have some
+times!"
+
+"But you must remember that there will be three of us," she answered.
+"There is Robin!"
+
+"Robin!  Why, it will be splendid!  You and Robin and I!"
+
+"Poor Robin----"  She laughed.  "You don't know how I scolded him last
+night.  It was about you and I was unhappy.  He is changing fast, and
+it is because of you.  He has come round----"
+
+"We have all come round!" cried Harry.  "He and you and I!  Oh! this is
+the beginning of the world for all of us--and I am forty-five!  Will
+you write to me later in the day?  I cannot get down until to-night.
+My father is very ill--I must be here.  But write to me--a long
+letter--it will be as though you were talking."
+
+She laughed.  "Yes, I'll write," she cried; then she looked at him
+again--"I love you," she said, as though she were reciting her faith,
+"because you are good, because you are strong, because--oh! for no
+reason at all--just because you are you."
+
+For a moment they watched the sea, and then again he took her in his
+arms and held her as though he would never let her go--then she
+vanished through the trees.
+
+The house was waking into life as he re-entered it; servants were astir
+at an early hour: he had been away such a little time, but the world
+was another place.  Every detail of the house--the stairs, the hall,
+the windows, the clocks, the pot-pourri scent from the bowls of dried
+roses, the dance of the dust in the light of the rising sun, was
+presented to him now with a new meaning.  He was glad that she had
+stayed with him such a little while--it made it more precious, her
+coming with the shadows in that grey of breaking skies and a mysterious
+plunging sea, and then vanishing with the rising sun.  Oh! they would
+come down to earth soon enough!--let him keep that kiss, those few
+words, her last smile as she vanished into the wood, like the visible
+signs of the other world that had, at last, been allowed to him.  The
+vision of the Grail had passed from his eyes, but the memory of it was
+to be his most sacred possession.
+
+He went to his room, had a bath, and then returned to his father; of
+course, he could not sleep.
+
+Clare, Garrett, and Robin met at breakfast with the sense of
+approaching calamity heavy upon them.  As far as Sir Jeremy himself was
+concerned there was little real regret--how could there be?  Of course,
+there was the sentiment of separation, the breaking of a great many
+ties that had been strong and traditional; but it was better that the
+old man should go--of that there was no question.  Sir Jeremy himself
+would rather.  No, "Le roi est mort" was easy enough to say, but how
+"Vive le roi" stuck in their throats.
+
+Garrett hinted at a wretched night, and quoted Benham on the dangers of
+an arm-chair at night-time.
+
+"Of course, one had been thinking," he said vaguely, after a melancholy
+survey of eggs and bacon that developed into resignation over dry
+toast--"there was a good deal to think about.  But I certainly had
+intended to go to bed--I can't imagine what----"
+
+Robin said nothing.  His mind was busy with Mary's speech of the night
+before; his world lay crumbled about him, and, like Cato, he was
+finding a certain melancholy satisfaction in its ruins.  His thoughts
+were scarcely with his grandfather; he felt vaguely that there was
+Death in the house and that its immediate presence was one of the
+things that had helped to bring his self-content about his ears.  But
+it was of his father that he was thinking, and of a certain morning
+when he had refused a walk.  If he got a chance again!
+
+Clare looked wretched.  Robin thought that she had never seemed so ill
+before; there was, for the first time, an air of carelessness about
+her, as though she had flung on her clothes anyhow--something utterly
+unlike her.
+
+"I am going to speak to Harry this morning," she said.
+
+Garrett looked up peevishly.  "Scarcely the time, Clare.  I should say
+that it were better for us to wait until--well, afterwards.  There is,
+perhaps, something a little indecent----"
+
+"I have considered the matter carefully," interrupted Clare decisively.
+"This is the best time----"
+
+"Oh, well, of course.  Only I should have thought that I might have had
+just a little say in the matter.  I was, after all, originally
+consulted as well as yourself.  I saw the girl, and was even, I might
+venture to suggest, with her for some time.  But, of course, a mere
+man's opinion----"
+
+"Oh, don't be absurd, Garrett.  It is I that have to ask him--it is
+pretty obvious that I have every right to choose my own time."
+
+"Oh!  Please, don't let me interfere--only I should scarcely have
+thought that this was quite the moment when Harry would be most
+inclined to listen to you."
+
+"If we don't ask him now," she answered, "there's no knowing when we
+shall have the opportunity.  When poor father is gone he will have a
+great deal to settle and decide; he will have no time for anything at
+all for months ahead.  This morning is our last chance."
+
+But she had another thought.  Her great desire now was that he should
+try and fail; that he would fail she was sure.  She was eagerly
+impatient for that day when he must come to them and admit his failure.
+She looked ahead and fashioned that scene for herself--that scene when
+Robin should know and confess that his father was only as the rest of
+them; that their failure was his failure, their incapacity his
+incapacity--and then the balance would be restored and Robin would see
+as he had seen before.
+
+"Coffee, Robin?  It's quite hot still.  I saw Dr. Brady just now.  He
+says that there is no change, nor is there likely to be one for some
+hours.  You're looking tired, Robin, old boy.  Have you been sleeping
+on the floor, too?"
+
+"No!"  He looked up and smiled.  "But I was awake a good bit.  The
+house is different somehow, when----"
+
+"Oh yes, I know.  One feels it, of course.  But eating's much the best
+thing for keeping one's spirits up.  I suppose Harry is coming down.
+Just find out from Benham, will you, Wilder, whether Mr. Henry is
+coming down?"
+
+The footman left the room, returning in a moment with the answer that
+Mr. Henry was about to come down.
+
+Garrett moved to the door, but Clare stopped him.
+
+"I want you, Garrett--you can bear me out!"
+
+"I thought that my opinion was of so little importance," he answered
+sulkily, "that I might as well go."
+
+But he sat down again and buried himself in his paper.
+
+They waited, and Robin made mental comparisons with a similar scene a
+week before; there were still the silver teapot, the toast, the
+ham--they were all there, and it was only he himself who had altered.
+Only a week, and what a difference!  What a cad he had been! a howling
+cad!  Not only to his father, but to Dahlia, to every one with whom he
+had had to do.  He did not spare himself; he had at least the pluck to
+go through with it--_that_ was Trojan.
+
+At Harry's entrance there was an involuntary raising of eyebrows to
+see, if possible, how _he_ took it; _it_ being his own immediate
+succession rather than his father's death.  He was grave, of course,
+but there was a light in his eyes that Clare could not understand.  Had
+he some premonition of her request?  He apologised for being late.
+
+"I have been up most of the night.  There is no immediate danger of a
+change, but we ought, I think, to be ready.  Yes, the toast, Robin,
+please--I hope you've slept all right, Clare?"
+
+How quickly he had picked up the manner, she reflected, as she watched
+him!  But of course that was natural enough; once a Trojan, always a
+Trojan, and no amount of colonies will do away with it.  But three
+weeks was a short time for so vast a change.
+
+"No, Harry, not very well--of course, it weighs on one rather."
+
+She sighed and rose from the breakfast-table; she looked terribly tired
+and Harry was suddenly sorry for her, and, for the first time since the
+night of his return, felt that they were brother and sister; but after
+the adventure of the early morning it was as though he were related to
+the whole world--Love and Death had drawn close to him, and, with the
+sound of the beating of their wings, the world had revealed things to
+him that had, in other days, been secrets.  Love and Death were such
+big things that his personal relations with Clare, with Garrett, even
+with Robin, had assumed their true proportion.
+
+"Clare, you're tired!" he said.  "I should go and lie down again.  You
+shall be told if anything happens."
+
+"No, thanks, Harry.  I wanted to ask you something--but, perhaps, first
+I ought to apologise for some of the things that I said the other day.
+I said more than I meant to.  I am sorry--but one forgets at times that
+one has no right to meddle in other people's affairs.  But now
+I--we--all of us--want to ask you a favour----"
+
+"Yes?" he said, looking up.
+
+"Well, of course, this is scarcely the time.  But it is something that
+can hardly wait, and you can decide about acting yourself----"
+
+She paused.  It was the very hardest thing that she had ever had to do,
+and she would never forget it to the day of her death.  But it was
+harder for Robin; he sat there with flaming cheeks and his head
+hanging--he could not look at his father.
+
+"It is to do with Robin--" Clare went on; "he was rather afraid to ask
+you about it himself, because, of course, it is not a business of which
+he is very proud, and so he has asked me to do it for him.  It is a
+girl--a Miss Feverel--whom he met at Cambridge and to whom he had
+written letters, letters that gave the young woman some reasons to
+suppose that he was offering her marriage.  He saw the matter more
+wisely after a time and naturally wished Miss Feverel to restore the
+letters, but this she refused to do.  Both Garrett and myself have done
+what we could and have, I am afraid, failed.  Miss Feverel is quite
+resolute--most obstinately so.  We are afraid that she may take steps
+that would be unpleasant to all of us--it is rather worrying us, and we
+thought--it seemed--in short, I determined to ask you to help us.  With
+your wider experience you will probably know the best way in which to
+deal with such a person."
+
+Clare paused.  She had put it as drily as possible, but it was,
+nevertheless, humiliating.
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"I am scarcely surprised," said Harry, "that Robin is ashamed of the
+affair."
+
+"Of course he is," answered Clare eagerly, "bitterly ashamed."
+
+"I suppose you made love to--ah--Miss Feverel?" he said, turning
+directly to Robin.
+
+"Yes," said Robin, lifting his head and facing his father.  As their
+eyes met the colour rushed to his cheeks.
+
+"It was a rotten thing to do," said Harry.
+
+"I have been very much ashamed of myself," answered Robin.  "I would
+make Miss Feverel any apology that is in my power, but there seems to
+be little that I can do."
+
+Harry said no more.
+
+"I am really sorry," said Clare at last, "to speak about a business
+like this just now--but really there is no time to lose.  I am sure
+that you will do something to prevent trouble in the Courts, and that
+is what Miss Feverel seems to threaten."
+
+"What do you want me to do?" he asked.
+
+"To see her--to see her and try and arrange some compromise----"
+
+"I should have thought that Robin was the proper person----"
+
+"He has tried and failed; she would not listen to him."
+
+"Then I am afraid that she will not listen to me--a perfect stranger
+with no claims on her interest."
+
+"It is precisely that.  You will be able to put it on a business
+footing, because sentiment does not enter into the question at all."
+
+"Do you want me to help you, Robin?"
+
+At the direct question Robin looked up again.  His father looked very
+stern and judicial.  It was the schoolmaster rather than the parent,
+but, after all, what else could he expect?  So he said, quite
+simply--"Yes, father."
+
+But at this moment there was an interruption.  With the hurried opening
+of the door there came the sounds of agitated voices and steps in the
+passage--then Benham appeared.
+
+"Sir Jeremy is worse, Mr. Henry.  The doctor thinks that, perhaps----"
+
+Harry hurriedly left the room.  Absolute silence reigned.  The sudden
+arrival of the long-expected crisis was terrifying.  They sat like
+statues, staring in front of them, and listening eagerly to every
+sound.  The monotonous ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece was
+terrifying--the clock on the wall by the door seemed to run a race.
+The "tick-tock" grew faster and faster--at last it was as if both
+clocks were screaming aloud.
+
+The room was filled with the clamour, and through it all they sat
+motionless and silent.
+
+In a moment Harry had returned.  "All of you," he said quickly--"he
+would like to see you--I am afraid----"
+
+After that Robin was confused and saw nothing clearly.  As he crept
+tremblingly up the stairs everything assumed gigantic and menacing
+shapes--the clock, the pot-pourri bowls, the window-curtains, and the
+brass rods on the stairs.  In the room there was that grey half-light
+that seemed so terrible, and the spurt and crackle of the fire seemed
+to fill the place with sounds.  He scarcely saw his grandfather.  In
+the centre of the bed, something was lying; the eyes gleamed for a
+moment in the light of the fire, the lips seemed to move.  But he did
+not realise that those things were his grandfather whom he had known
+for so many years--in another hour he would be dead.
+
+But the things that he saw were the shadows of the fire on the wall,
+the dancing in the air of the only lock of hair that Dr. Brady
+possessed, the way that Clare's hands were folded as she stood silently
+by the bed, Uncle Garrett's waistcoat-buttons that shot little sparks
+of light into the room as he turned, ever so slightly, from side to
+side.
+
+At a motion of the doctor's, he came forward to bid Sir Jeremy
+farewell.  As he bent over the bed panic seized him--he did not see Sir
+Jeremy but something horrible, terrible, ghoulish--Death.  Then he saw
+the old man's eyes, and they were twinkling; then he knew that he was
+speaking to him.  The words came with difficulty, but they were quite
+clear--
+
+"You'll be a good man, Robin--but listen to your father--he
+knows--he'll show you how to be a Trojan."
+
+For a moment he held the wrinkled, shrivelled hand in his own, and then
+he stepped back.  Clare bent down and kissed her father, and then
+kneeled down by the bed; Robin had a mad longing to laugh as he saw his
+uncle and aunt kneeling there, their heads made enormous shadows on the
+wall.
+
+Harry also bent down and kissed his father; the old man held his hand
+and kept it--
+
+"I've tried to be a fair man and a gentleman--I've not been a good one.
+But I've had some fun and seen life--thank God, I was born a Trojan--so
+will the rest of you.  Harry, my boy, you're all right--you'll do.  I'm
+going, but I don't regret anything--your sins are experience--and the
+greatest sin of all is not having any."
+
+His lips closed--as the fire flashed with the falling of a cavern of
+blazing coal his head rolled back on to the pillow.
+
+Suddenly he smiled--
+
+"Dear old Harry!" he said, and then he died.
+
+The shadows from the fire leapt and danced on the wall, and the
+kneeling figures by the bed flung grotesque shapes over the dead man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+It was five o'clock of the same day and Harry was asleep in front of
+his fire.  In the early hours of the afternoon the strain under which
+he had been during the past week began to assert itself, and every part
+of his body seemed to cry out for sleep.
+
+His head was throbbing, his legs trembled, and strange lights and
+figures danced before his eyes; he flung himself into a chair in his
+small study at the top of the West Tower and fell asleep.
+
+He had grown to love that room very dearly: the great stretch of the
+sea and the shining sand with the grey bending hills hemming it in;
+that view was never the same, but with the passing of every cloud held
+new colours like a bowl of shining glass.
+
+The room was bare and simple--that had been his own wish; a photograph
+of his first wife hung over the mantelpiece, a small sketch of Auckland
+Harbour, a rough drawing of the Terraces before their
+destruction--these were all his pictures.
+
+He had been trying to read since his return, and copies of "The Egoist"
+and some of Swinburne's poetry lay on the table; but the first had
+seemed incomprehensible to him and the second indecent, and he had
+abandoned them; but he _had_ made one discovery, thanks to Bethel, Walt
+Whitman's "Leaves of Grass"--it seemed to him the greatest book that he
+had ever read, the very voicing of all his hopes and ideals and faith.
+Ah! that man knew!
+
+Benham came in and drew the curtains.  He watched the sleeping man for
+a moment and nodded his head.  He was the right sort, Mr. Harry!  He
+would do!--and the Watcher of the House stole out again.
+
+Harry slept on, a great, dreamless sleep, grey and formless as sleep of
+utter exhaustion always is; then he suddenly woke to the dim twilight
+of the room, the orange glow of the dying fire, and the distant
+striking of the hour--it was six o'clock!
+
+As he lay back in his chair, dreamily, lazily watching the fire, his
+thoughts were of his father.  He had not known that he would regret him
+so intensely, but he saw now that the old man had meant everything to
+him during those first weeks of his return.  He thought of him very
+tenderly--his prejudices, his weaknesses, his traditions.  It was
+strange how alike they all were in reality, the Trojans!  Sir Jeremy,
+Clare, Garrett, Robin, himself, the same bedrock of traditional pride
+was there, it was only that circumstances had altered them
+superficially.  Three weeks ago Clare and he had seemed worlds apart,
+now he saw how near they were!  But for that very reason, they would
+never get on--he saw that quite clearly.  They knew too well the weak
+spots in each other's armour, and their pride would be for ever at war.
+
+He did not want to turn her out--she had been there for all those years
+and it was her home; but he thought that she herself would prefer to
+go.  There was a charming place in Norfolk, Wrexhall Pogis, that had
+been let for years, and there was quite a pleasant little place in
+town, 3 Southwick Crescent--yes, she would probably prefer to go, even
+had he not meant to marry Mary.  The announcement of that little affair
+would be something in the nature of a thunderbolt.
+
+It was impossible for him to go--the head of the House must always live
+at "The Flutes."  But he knew already how much that House was going to
+mean to him, and so he guessed how much it must mean to Clare.
+
+And to Robin?  What would Robin do?  Three weeks ago there could have
+been but one answer to that question--he would have followed his aunt.
+Now Harry was not so sure.  There was this affair of Miss Feverel;
+probably Robin would come to him about it and then they would be able
+to talk.  He had had that very day a letter from Dahlia Feverel.  He
+looked at it again now; it said:--
+
+
+"DEAR MR. TROJAN--Mother and I are leaving Pendragon to-morrow--for
+ever, I suppose--but before I go I thought that I should like to send
+you a little line to thank you for your kindness to me.  That sounds
+terribly formal, doesn't it? but the gratitude is really there, and
+indeed I am no letter-writer.
+
+"You met a girl at the crisis in her life when there were two roads in
+front of her and you helped her to choose the right one.  I daresay
+that you thought that you did very little--it cannot have seemed very
+much, that short meeting that we had; but it made just the difference
+to me and will, I know, be to me a white stone from which I shall date
+my new life.  I am not a strong woman--I never shall be a strong
+woman--and it was partly because I thought that love for Robin was
+going to give me that strength that it hurt so terribly when I found
+that the love wasn't there.  The going of my love hurt every bit as
+much as the going of his--it had been something to be proud of.
+
+"I relied on sentiment and now I am going to rely on work; those are
+the only two alternatives offered to women, and the latter is so often
+denied to them.
+
+"I hope that it may, one day, give you pleasure to think that you once
+helped a girl to do the strong thing instead of the weak one.  Of
+course, my love for Robin has died, and I see him clearly now without
+exaggeration.  What happened was largely my fault--I spoilt him, I
+think, and helped his self-pride.  I know that he has been passing
+through a bad time lately, and I am sure that he will come to you to
+help him out of it.  He is a lucky fellow to have some one to help him
+like that--and then he will suddenly see that he has done a rather
+cruel thing.  Poor Robin! he will make a fine man one day.
+
+"I have got a little secretaryship in London--nothing very big, but it
+will give me the work that I want; and, because you once said that you
+believed in me, I will try to justify your belief.  There! that is
+sentiment, isn't it!--and I have flung sentiment away.  Well, it is the
+last time!
+
+"Good-bye--I shall never forget.  Thank you.--
+
+Yours sincerely,
+  DAHLIA FEVEREL."
+
+
+So perhaps, after all, Robin's mistakes had been for the good of all of
+them.  Mistake was, indeed, a slight word for what he had done, and,
+thinking of it even now, Harry's anger rose.
+
+And she had been a nice girl, too, and a plucky one.
+
+He had answered her:--
+
+
+"MY DEAR MISS FEVEREL--I was extremely pleased to get your letter.  It
+is very good of you to speak as you have done about myself, but I
+assure you that what I did was of the smallest importance.  It was
+because you had pluck yourself that you pulled through.  You are quite
+right to fling away sentiment.  I came back to England three weeks ago
+longing to call every man my brother.  I thought that by a mere smile,
+a bending of the finger, the world was my friend for life.  I soon
+found my mistake.  Friendship is a very slow and gradual affair, and I
+distrust the mushroom growth profoundly.  Life isn't easy in that kind
+of way; you and I have found that out together.
+
+"I wish you every success in your new life; I have no doubt whatever
+that you will get on, and I hope that you will let me hear sometimes
+from you.
+
+"Things have been happening quickly during the last few days.  My
+father died this morning; he was himself glad to go, but I shall miss
+him terribly--he has been a most splendid friend to me during these
+weeks.  Then I know that you will be interested to hear that I am
+engaged to Miss Bethel--you know her, do you not?  I hope and believe
+that we shall be very happy.
+
+"As to Robin, he has, as you say, been having a bad time.  To do him
+justice it has not been only the fear of the letters that has hung over
+him--he has also discovered a good many things about himself that have
+hurt and surprised him.
+
+"Well, good-bye--I am sure that you will look back on the Robin episode
+with gratitude.  It has done a great deal for all of us.  Good luck to
+you!--Always your friend,
+
+HENRY TROJAN."
+
+
+He turned on the lights in his room and tried to read, but he found
+that that was impossible.  His eyes wandered off the page and he
+listened: he caught himself again and again straining his ears for a
+sound.  He pictured the coming of steps up the stairs and then sharp
+and loud along the passage--then a pause and a knock on his door.
+Often he fancied that he heard it, but it was only fancy and he turned
+away disappointed; but he was sure that Robin would come.
+
+They had decided not to dine downstairs together on that evening--they
+were, all of them, overwrought and the situation was strained; they
+were wondering what he was going to do.  There were, of course, a
+thousand things to be done, but he was glad that they had left him
+alone for that night at any rate.  He wanted to be quiet.
+
+He had written a letter of enormous length to Mary, explaining to her
+what had happened and telling her that he would come to her in the
+morning.  It was very hard, even then, not to rush down to her, but he
+felt that he must keep that day at least sacred to his father.
+
+Would Robin come?  It was quarter to seven and that terrible sleep was
+beginning to overcome him again.  The fire, the walls, the pictures,
+danced before his eyes ... the stories of the fishermen in the Cove
+came back to him ... the Four Stones and the man who had lost his way
+... the red tiles and the black rafters of "The Bended Thumb" ... and
+then Mary's beauty above it all.  Mary on the moors with the wind
+blowing through her hair; Mary in the house with the firelight on her
+face, Mary ... and then he suddenly started up, wide awake, for he
+heard steps on the stair.
+
+He knew them at once--he never doubted that they were Robin's.  The
+last two steps were taken slowly and with hesitation.
+
+Then he hurried down the passage as though he had suddenly made up his
+mind; then, again, there was a long pause before the door.  At last
+came the knock, timidly, and then another loudly and almost violently.
+
+Harry shouted "Come in," and Robin entered, his face pale and his hands
+twisting and untwisting.
+
+"Ah, Robin--do you want anything?  Come in--sit down.  I've been
+asleep."
+
+"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?  No, thanks, I won't sit down.  I've
+got some things I want to say.  I'd rather say them standing up."
+
+There was a long pause.  Harry said nothing and stared into the fire.
+
+"I've got a good lot to say altogether."  Robin cleared his throat.
+"It's rather hard.  Perhaps this doesn't seem quite the time--after
+grandfather--and--everything--but I couldn't wait very well.  I've been
+a bit uncomfortable."
+
+"Out with it," said Harry.  "This time will do excellently--there's a
+pause just now, but to-morrow everything will begin again and there's a
+terrible lot to do.  What is it?"
+
+Was it, he wondered, Robin's fault or his own that there was that
+barrier so strangely defined between them even now?  He could feel it
+there in the room with them now.  He wondered whether Robin felt it as
+well.
+
+"It is about what my aunt said to you this morning--and other
+things--other things right from the beginning, ever since you came
+back.  I'm not much of a chap at talking, and probably I shan't say
+what I mean, but I will try.  I've been thinking about it all lately,
+but what made me come and speak to you was this morning--having to ask
+you a favour after being so rude to you.  A chap doesn't like doing
+that, and it made me think--besides there being other things."
+
+"Oh, there's no need to thank me about this morning," Harry said drily;
+"I shall be very pleased to do what I can."
+
+"Oh, it isn't that," Robin said quickly.  "It isn't about that somehow
+that I mind at all now; I have been worrying about it a good bit, but
+that isn't what I want to speak about.  I'll go through with it--Breach
+of Promise--or whatever it is--if only you wouldn't think me--well,
+quite an utter rotter."
+
+"I wish," said Harry quietly, "that you would sit down.  I'm sure that
+you would find it easier to talk."
+
+Robin looked at him for a moment and then at the chair--then he sat
+down.
+
+"You see, somehow grandfather's dying has made things seem different to
+one--it has made one younger somehow.  I used to think that I was
+really very old and knew a lot; but his death has shown me that I know
+nothing at all--really nothing.  But there have been a lot of things
+all happening together--your coming back, that business with
+Dahlia--Miss Feverel, you know--a dressing down that I got from Miss
+Bethel the other evening, and then grandfather's dying----"
+
+He paused again and cleared his throat.  He looked straight into the
+fire, and, every now and again, he gave a little choke and a gasp which
+showed that he was moved.
+
+"A chap doesn't like talking about himself," he went on at last; "no
+decent chap does; but unless I tell you everything from the beginning
+it will never be clear--I must tell you everything----"
+
+"Please--I want to hear."
+
+"Well, you see, before you came back, I suppose that I had really lots
+of side.  I never used to think that I had, but I see now that what
+Mary said the other night was perfectly right--it wasn't only that I
+'sided' about myself, but about my set and my people and everything.
+And then you came back.  You see we didn't any of us very much think
+that we wanted you.  To begin with, you weren't exactly like my
+governor; not having seen you all my life I hadn't thought much about
+you at all, and your letters were so unlike anything that I knew that I
+hadn't believed them exactly.  We were very happy as we were.  I
+thought that I had everything I wanted.  And then you didn't do things
+as we did; you didn't like the same books and pictures or anything, and
+I was angry because I thought that I must know about those things and I
+couldn't understand you.  And then you know you made things worse by
+trying to force my liking out of me, and chaps of my sort are awfully
+afraid of showing their feelings to any one, least of all to a man----"
+Robin paused.
+
+"Yes," said Harry, "I know."
+
+"But all this isn't an excuse really; I was a most awful cad, and
+there's no getting away from it.  But I think I began to see almost
+from the very beginning that I hadn't any right to behave like that,
+but I was obstinate.
+
+"And then I began to get in a fright about Miss Feverel.  She wouldn't
+give my letters back, although I went to her and Uncle Garrett and Aunt
+Clare--all of us--but it was no good--she meant to keep them and of
+course we knew why.  And then, too, I saw at last that I'd behaved like
+an utter cad--it was funny I didn't see it at the time.  But I'd seen
+other chaps do the same sort of thing and the girls didn't mind, and
+I'd thought that she ought to be jolly pleased at getting to know a
+Trojan--and all that sort of thing.
+
+"But when I saw that she wasn't going to give the letters back but
+meant to use them I was terribly frightened.  It wasn't myself so much,
+although I hated the idea of my friends knowing about it all and
+laughing at me--but it was the House too--my letting it down so.
+
+"I'd been thinking about you a good bit already.  You see you changed
+after Aunt Clare spoke to you that morning and I began to be rather
+afraid of you--and when a chap begins to be afraid of some one he
+begins to like him.  I got Aunt Clare and Uncle Garrett to go and speak
+to Dahlia, and they couldn't get anything out of her at all; so, then,
+I began to wonder whether you could do anything, and as soon as I began
+to wonder that I began to want to talk to you.  But I never got much
+chance; you were always in grandfather's room, and you didn't give me
+much encouragement, did you? and then--I began to be awfully miserable.
+I don't want to whine--I deserved it all right enough--but I didn't
+seem to have a friend anywhere and all my things that I'd believed in
+seemed to be worth nothing at all.  Then I wanted to talk to you
+awfully, and when grandfather was worse and was dying I began to see
+things straight--and then I saw Mary and she told me right out what I
+was, and I saw it all as clear as daylight.
+
+"And so; well, I've come--not to ask you to help me about Dahlia--but
+whether you'll help me to play the game better.  I wasn't always slack
+and rotten like I am now.  When I was in Germany I thought I was going
+to do all sorts of things ... but anyhow I can't say exactly all that I
+mean.  Only I'm awfully lonely and terribly ashamed; and I want you to
+forgive me for being so beastly to you----"
+
+He looked wretched enough as he sat there facing the fire with his lip
+quivering.  He made a strong effort to control himself, but in a moment
+he had broken down altogether and hid his head in the arm of the chair,
+sobbing as if his heart would break.
+
+Harry waited.  The moment for which he had longed so passionately had
+come at last; all those weary weeks had now received their reward.  But
+he was very tired and he could not remember anything except that his
+boy was there and that he was crying and wanted some one to help
+him--which was very sentimental.
+
+He got up from his chair and put his hand on Robin's shoulder.
+
+"Robin, old boy--don't; it's all right really.  I've been waiting for
+you to come and speak to me; of course, I knew that you would come.
+Never mind about those other things--we're going to have a splendid
+time, you and I."
+
+He put his arm round him.  There was a moment's silence, then the boy
+turned round and gripped his father's coat--then he buried his head in
+his father's knees.
+
+
+Benham entered half an hour later with Harry's evening meal.
+
+"I will have mine here, too, Benham," said Robin, "with my father."
+
+"There is one thing, Robin," said Harry a little later, laughing--"what
+about the letters?"
+
+"Oh, I know!"  Robin looked up at his father appealingly.  "I don't
+know what you must think of me over that business.  But I suppose I
+believed for a time in it all, and then when I saw that it wouldn't do
+I just wanted to get out of it as quickly as I could.  I never seem to
+have thought about it at all--and now I'm more ashamed than I can say.
+But I think I'll go through with it; I don't see that there's anything
+else very much for me to do, any other way of making up--I think I'd
+rather face it."
+
+"Would you?" said Harry.  "What about your friends and the House?"
+
+Robin flinched for a moment; then he said resolutely, "Yes, it would be
+better for them too.  You see they know already--the House, I mean.
+All the chaps in the dining-hall and the picture-gallery, they've known
+about it all day, and I know that they'd rather I didn't back out of
+it.  Besides--" he hesitated a moment.  "There's another thing--I have
+the kind of feeling that I can't have hurt Dahlia so very much if she's
+the kind of girl to carry that sort of thing through; if, I mean, she
+takes it like that she isn't the sort of girl that would mind very much
+what I had done----"
+
+"Is she," said Harry, "that sort of girl?"
+
+"No, I don't think she is.  That's what's puzzled me about it all.  She
+was worth twenty of me really.  But any decent sort of girl would have
+given them back----"
+
+"She has----"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Given them back."
+
+"The letters?"
+
+Harry went to his writing-table and produced the bundle.  They lay in
+his hand with the blue ribbon and the neat handwriting, "For Robert
+Trojan," outside.
+
+Robin stared.  "Not _the_ letters?"
+
+"Yes--the letters; I have had them some days."
+
+But still he did not move.  "_You've_ had them?--several days?"
+
+"Yes.  I went to see Miss Feverel on my own account and she gave me
+them----"
+
+"You had them when we asked you to help us!"
+
+"Yes--of course.  It was a little secret of my own and Miss
+Feverel's--our--if you like--revenge."
+
+"And we've been laughing at you, scorning you; and we tried--all of
+us--and could do nothing!  I say, you're the cleverest man in England!
+Score!  Why I should think you have!" and then he added, "But I'm
+ashamed--terribly.  You have known all these days and said nothing--and
+I!  I wonder what you've thought of me----"
+
+He took the letters into his hand and undid the ribbon slowly.  "I'm
+jolly glad you've known--it's as if you'd been looking after the family
+all this time, while we were plunging around in the dark.  What a
+score!  That we should have failed and you so absolutely succeeded--"
+Then again, "But I'm jolly ashamed--I'll tell you everything--always.
+We'll work together----"
+
+He looked them through and then flung them into the fire.
+
+"I've grown up," he suddenly cried; "come of age at last--at last I
+know."
+
+"Not too fast," said Harry, smiling; "it's only a stage.  There's
+plenty to learn--and we'll learn it together."  Then, after a pause,
+"There's another thing, though, that will astonish you a bit--I'm
+engaged----"
+
+"Engaged!" Robin stared.  Quickly before his eyes passed visions of
+terrible Colonial women--some entanglement that his father had
+contracted abroad and had been afraid to announce before.  Well,
+whatever it might be, he would stand by him!  It was they two against
+the world whatever happened!--and Robin felt already the anticipatory
+glow of self-sacrificing heroism.
+
+Harry smiled.  "Yes--Mary Bethel!"
+
+"Mary!  Hurrah!"
+
+He rushed at his father and seized his hand--"You and Mary!  Why, it's
+simply splendid!  The very thing--I'd rather it were she than any
+one!--she told me what she thought of me the other night, I can tell
+you--fairly went for me.  By Jove!  I'm glad--we'll have some times,
+three of us here together.  When was it?"
+
+"Oh! only this morning!  I had asked her before, but it was only
+settled this morning."
+
+Then Robin was suddenly grave.  "Oh! but, I say, there's Aunt
+Clare--and Uncle Garrett!"  He had utterly forgotten them.  What would
+they say?  The Bethels of all people!
+
+"Yes.  I've thought about it.  I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid Aunt
+Clare won't want to stay.  I don't see what's to be done.  I haven't
+told her yet----"
+
+Robin saw at once that he must choose his future; it was to be his aunt
+or his father.  His aunt with all those twenty years of faithful
+service behind her, his aunt who had done everything for him--or his
+father whom he had known for three weeks.  But he had no hesitation;
+there was now no question it was his father for ever against the world!
+
+"I'm sorry," he said slowly.  "Perhaps there will be some arrangement.
+Poor Aunt Clare!  Did you--tell grandfather?"
+
+"No.  I wanted to, but I had no opportunity.  But he knows--I am sure
+that he knows."
+
+Their thoughts passed to the old man.  It was almost as if he had been
+there in the room with them, and they felt, curiously, as though he had
+at that moment handed over the keys of the House.  For an instant they
+saw him; his eyes like diamonds, his wrinkled cheeks, his crooked
+fingers--and then his laugh.  "Harry, my boy, you'll do."
+
+"It's almost as if he was here," said Robin.  He turned round and put
+his hand in his father's.
+
+"I know he's pleased," he said.
+
+And so it was during the next week, through the funeral, and the
+gathering of relatives and the gradual dispersing of them again, and
+the final inevitable seclusion when the world and the relations and the
+dead had all joined in leaving the family alone.  The gathering of
+Trojans had shown, beyond a doubt, that Harry was quite fitted to take
+his place at the head of the family.  He had acted throughout with
+perfect tact and everything had gone without a hitch.  Many a Trojan
+had arrived for the funeral--mournful, red-eyed Trojans, with black
+crape and an air of deferential resignation that hinted, also, at
+curiosity as regards the successor.  They watched Harry, ready for
+anything that might gratify their longing for sensational failure; a
+man from the backwoods was certain to fail, and their chagrined
+disappointment was only solaced by their certainty of some little
+sensation in the announcement of his surprising success.
+
+Of course, Clare had been useful; it was on such an occasion that she
+appeared at her best.  She was kind to them all, but at the same time
+impressed the dignity of her position upon them, so that they went away
+declaring that Clare Trojan knew how to carry herself and was young for
+her years.
+
+The funeral was an occasion of great ceremony, and the town attended in
+crowds.  Harry realised in their altered demeanour to himself their
+appreciation of the value of his succession, and he knew that Sir Henry
+Trojan was something very different from the plain Harry.  But he had,
+from the beginning, taken matters very quietly.  Now that he was
+assured of the affection of the only two people who were of importance
+to him he could afford to treat with easy acquiescence anything else
+that Fate might have in store for him.  His diffidence, had, to some
+extent, left him, and he took everything that came with an ease that
+had been entirely foreign to him three weeks before.
+
+Clare might indeed wonder at the change in him, for she had not the key
+that unlocked the mystery.  The week seemed to draw father and son very
+closely together.  Years seemed to have made little difference in their
+outlook on things, and in some ways Robin was the elder of the two.
+They said nothing about Mary--that was to wait until after the funeral;
+but the consciousness of their secret added to the bond between them.
+
+Clare herself regarded the future complacently.  She was, she felt,
+absolutely essential to the right ruling of the House, and she
+intended, gradually but surely, to restore her command above and below
+stairs.  The only possible lion in her path was Harry's marrying, but
+of that there seemed no fear at all.
+
+She admired him a little for his conduct during their father's funeral;
+he was not such an oaf as she had thought--but she would bide her time.
+
+At last, however, the thunderbolt fell.  It was a week after the
+funeral, and they had reached dessert.  Clare sometimes stayed with
+them while they smoked, and, as a rule, conversation was not very
+general.  To-night, however, she rose to go.  Her black suited her; her
+dark hair, her dark eyes, the dark trailing clouds of her dress--it was
+magnificently sombre against the firelight and the shine of the
+electric lamps on the silver.  But Harry's "Wait a moment, Clare, I
+want to talk," called her back, and she stood by the door looking over
+her shoulder at him.
+
+Then when she saw from his glance that it was a matter of importance,
+she came back slowly again towards him.
+
+"Another family council?" said Garrett rather impatiently.  "We have
+had a generous supply lately."
+
+"I'm afraid this is imperative," said Harry.  "I am sorry to bother
+you, Clare, but this seems to me the best time."
+
+"Oh, any time suits me," she said indifferently, sitting down
+reluctantly.  "But if it's household affairs, I should think that we
+need hardly keep Garrett and Robin."
+
+"It is something that concerns us all four," said Harry.  "I am going
+to be married!"
+
+It had been from the beginning of things a Trojan dictum that the
+revealing of emotion was the worst of gaucheries--Clare, Garrett, and
+Robin himself had been schooled in this matter from their respective
+cradles; and now the lesson must be put into practice.
+
+For Robin, of course, it was no revelation at all, but he dared not
+look at his aunt; he understood a little what it must mean to her.  To
+those that watched her, however, nothing was revealed.  She stood by
+the fire, her hands at her side, her head slightly turned towards her
+brother.
+
+"Might I ask," she said quietly, "the name of the fortunate lady?"
+
+"Miss Bethel!"
+
+"Miss Bethel!"  Garrett sprang to his feet.  "Harry, you must be
+joking!  You can't mean it!  Not the daughter of Bethel at the
+Point--the madman!--the----"
+
+"Please, Garrett," said Harry, "remember that she has promised to be my
+wife.  I am sorry, Clare----"
+
+He turned round to his sister.
+
+But she had said nothing.  She pulled a chair from the table and sat
+down, quietly, without obvious emotion.
+
+"It is a little unexpected," she said.  "But really if we had
+considered things it was obvious enough.  It is all of a piece.  Robin
+tried for Breach of Promise, the Bethels in the house before father has
+been buried for three days--the policy and traditions of the last three
+hundred years upset in three weeks."
+
+"Of course," said Harry, "I could scarcely expect you to welcome the
+change.  You do not know Miss Bethel.  I am afraid you are a little
+prejudiced against her.  And, indeed, please--please, believe me that
+it has been my very last wish to go counter in any way to your own
+plans.  But it has seemed almost unavoidable; we have found that one
+thing after another has arisen about which we could not agree.  Is it
+too late now to reconsider the position?  Couldn't we pull together
+from this moment?"
+
+But she interrupted him.  "Come, Harry," she said, "whatever we are,
+let us avoid hypocrisy.  You have beaten me at every point and I must
+retire.  I have seen in three weeks everything that I had cared for and
+loved destroyed.  You come back a stranger, and without knowing or
+caring for the proper dignity of the House, you have done what you
+pleased.  Finally, you are bringing a woman into the House whose
+parents are beggars, whose social position makes her unworthy of such a
+marriage.  You cannot expect me to love you for it.  From this moment
+we cease to exist for each other.  I hope that I may never see you
+again or hear from you.  I shall not indulge in heroics or melodrama,
+but I will never forgive you.  I suppose that the house at Norfolk is
+at my disposal?"
+
+"Certainly," he answered.  Then he turned to his brother.  "I hope,
+Garrett," he said, "that you do not feel as strongly about the matter
+as Clare.  I should be very glad if you found it possible to remain."
+
+That gentleman was in a difficult position; he changed colour and tried
+to avoid his sister's eyes.  After a rapid survey of the position, he
+had come to the conclusion that he would not be nearly as comfortable
+in Norfolk--he could not write his book as easily, and the house had
+scarcely the same position of importance.  He had grown fond of the
+place.  Harry, after all, was not a bad chap--he seemed very anxious to
+be pleasant; and even Mary Bethel mightn't turn out so badly.
+
+"You see, Clare," he said slowly, "there is the book--and--well, on the
+whole, I think it would be almost better if I remained; it is not, of
+course, that----"
+
+Clare's lip curled scornfully.
+
+"I understand, Garrett, you could scarcely be expected to leave such
+comforts for so slight a reason.  And you, Robin?"
+
+She held the chair with her hand as she spoke.  The fury at her heart
+was such that she could scarcely breathe; she was quite calm, but she
+had a mad desire to seize Harry as he sat there at the table and
+strangle him with her hands.  And Garrett!--the contemptible coward!
+But if only Robin would come with her, then the rest mattered little.
+After all, it had only been a fortnight ago when he had stood at her
+side and rejected his father.  The scene now was parallel--her voice
+grew soft and trembled a little as she spoke to him.
+
+"Robin, dear, what will you do?  Will you come with me?"
+
+For a moment father and son looked at each other, then Robin answered--
+
+"I shall be very glad to come and stay sometimes, Aunt
+Clare--often--whenever you care to have me.  But I think that I must
+stay here.  I have been talking to father and I am going up to London
+to try, I think, for the Diplomatic.  We thought----"
+
+But the "we" was too much for her.
+
+"I congratulate you," she said, turning to Harry.  "You have done a
+great deal in three weeks.  It looks," she said, looking round the
+room, "almost like a conspiracy.  I----"  Then she suddenly broke down.
+She bent down over Robin and caught his head between her hands--
+
+"Robin--Robin dear--you must come, you must, dear.  I brought you up--I
+have loved you--always--always.  You can't leave me now, old boy, after
+all that I have done--all, everything.  Why, he has done
+nothing--he----"
+
+She kissed him again and again, and caught his hands: "Robin, I love
+you--you--only in all the world; you are all that I have got----"
+
+But he put her hands gently aside.  "Please--please--Aunt Clare, I am
+dreadfully sorry----"
+
+And then her pride returned to her.  She walked to the door with her
+head high.
+
+"I will go to the Darcy's in London until that other house is ready.  I
+will go to-morrow----"
+
+She opened the door, but Harry sprang up--
+
+"Please, Clare--don't go like that.  Think over it--perhaps
+to-morrow----"
+
+"Oh, let me go," she answered wearily; "I'm tired."
+
+She walked up the stairs to her room.  She could scarcely see--Robin
+had denied her!
+
+She shut the door of her bedroom behind her and fell at the foot of her
+bed, her face buried in her hands.  Then at last she burst into a storm
+of tears--
+
+"Robin!  Robin!" she cried.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+It was Christmas Eve and the Cove lay buried in snow.  The sea was grey
+like steel, and made no sound as it ebbed and flowed up the little
+creek.  The sky was grey and snowflakes fell lazily, idly, as though
+half afraid to let themselves go; a tiny orange moon glittered over the
+chimneys of "The Bended Thumb."
+
+Harry came out of the Inn and stood for a moment to turn up the collar
+of his coat.  The perfect stillness of the scene pleased him; the world
+was like the breathless moment before some great event: the opening of
+Pandora's box, the leaping of armed men from the belly of the wooden
+horse, the flashing of Excalibur over the mere, the birth of some
+little child.
+
+He sighed as he passed down the street.  He had read in his morning
+paper that the Cove was doomed.  The word had gone forth, the Town
+Council had decided; the Cove was to be pulled down and a street of
+lodging-houses was to take its place.  Pendragon would be no longer a
+place of contrasts; it would be all of a piece, a completely popular
+watering-place.
+
+The vision of its passing hurt him--so much must go with it; and
+gradually he saw the beauty and the superstition and the wonder being
+driven from the world--the Old World--and a hard Iron and Steel
+Materialism relentlessly taking its place.
+
+But he himself had changed; the place had had its influence on him, and
+he was beginning to see the beauty of these improvements, these
+manufactures, these hard straight lines and gaunt ugly squares.
+Progress?  Progress?  Inevitable?--yes!  Useful?--why, yes, too!  But
+beautiful?--Well, perhaps ... he did not know.
+
+At the top of the hill he turned and saluted the cold grey sky and sea
+and moor.  The Four Stones were in harmony to-day: white, and
+pearl-grey, with hints of purple in their shadows--oh beautiful and
+mysterious world!
+
+He went into the Bethels' to call for Mary.  Bethel appeared for a
+moment at the door of his study and shouted--
+
+"Hullo!  Harry, my boy!  Frightfully busy cataloguing!  Going out for a
+run in a minute!"--the door closed.
+
+His daughter's engagement seemed to have made little difference to him.
+He was pleased, of course, but Harry wondered sometimes whether he
+realised it at all.
+
+Not so Mrs. Bethel.  Arrayed in gorgeous colours, she was blissfully
+happy.  She was at the head of the stairs now.
+
+"Just a minute, Harry--Mary's nearly ready.  Oh! my dear, you haven't
+been out in that thin waistcoat ... but you'll catch your death--just a
+minute, my dear, and let me get something warmer?  Oh do!  Now you're
+an obstinate, bad man!  Yes, a bad, bad man"--but at this moment
+arrived Mary, and they said good-bye and were away.
+
+During the few weeks that they had been together there had been no
+cloud.  Pendragon had talked, but they had not listened to it; they had
+been perfectly, ideally happy.  They seemed to have known each other
+completely so long ago--not only their virtues but their faults and
+failures.
+
+With her arm in his they passed through the gate and found Robin
+waiting for them.
+
+"Hullo! you two!  I've just heard from Macfadden.  He suggests Catis in
+Dover Street for six months and then abroad.  He thinks I ought to pass
+easily enough in a year's time--and then it will mean Germany!"
+
+His face was lighted with excitement.
+
+"Right you are!" cried Harry.  "Anything that Macfadden suggests is
+sure to be pretty right.  What do you say, Mary?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know anything about men's businesses," she said, laughing.
+"Only don't be too long away, Robin."
+
+They passed down the garden, the three of them, together.
+
+
+In Norfolk a woman sat at her window and watched the snow tumbling
+softly against the panes.  The garden was a white sea--the hills loomed
+whitely beyond--the sky was grey with small white clouds, hanging like
+pillows heavily in mid-air.
+
+The snow whirled and tossed and danced.
+
+Clare turned slowly from the windows and drew down the blinds.
+
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+_Printed by_ R. & R. Clark, Limited, _Edinburgh_
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY HUGH WALPOLE
+
+
+_NOVELS_
+
+  THE WOODEN HORSE
+  MR. PERRIN AND MR. TRAILL
+  THE GREEN MIRROR
+  THE DARK FOREST
+  THE SECRET CITY
+
+_ROMANCES_
+
+  MARADICK AT FORTY
+  THE PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE
+  FORTITUDE
+  THE DUCHESS OF WREXE
+
+
+_BOOKS ABOUT CHILDREN_
+
+  THE GOLDEN SCARECROW
+  JEREMY
+
+
+_BELLES-LETTRES_
+
+  JOSEPH CONRAD: A Critical Study
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wooden Horse, by Hugh Walpole
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOODEN HORSE ***
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