with a finality that is acknowledged by
himself,--is unwilling to speak or hear a word upon the subject,
and would willingly wash the episode out from his heart if it were
possible.

But not on that his first night would he begin to speak of Clara
Amedroz. He would not let his sister believe that his heart was too
full of the subject to allow of his thinking of other matters. Mary
was still up, waiting for him when he arrived, with tea, and cream,
and fruit ready for him. "Oh, Mary!" he said, "why are you not in
bed? You know that I would have come to you up-stairs." She excused
herself, smiling, declaring that she could not deny herself the
pleasure of being with him for half an hour on his first return from
his travels. "Of course I want to know what they are like," she said.

"He is a nice-looking old man," said Will, "and she is a nice-looking
young woman."

"That is graphic and short, at any rate."

"And he is weak and silly, but she is strong and--and--and--"

"Not silly also, I hope?"

"Anything but that. I should say she is very clever."

"I'm afraid you don't like her, Will."

"Yes, I do."

"Really?"

"Yes; really."

"And did she take your coming well?"

"Very well. I think she is much obliged to me for going."

"And Mr. Amedroz?"

"He liked my coming too,--very much."

"What;--after that cold letter?"

"Yes, indeed. I shall explain it all by degrees. I have taken a lease
of all the land, and I'm to go back at Christmas; and as to the old
gentleman,--he'd have me live there altogether if I would."

"Why, Will?"

"Is it not odd? I'm so glad I didn't make up my mind not to go when I
got that letter. And yet I don't know." These last words he added
slowly, and in a low voice, and Mary at once knew that everything was
not quite as it ought to be.

"Is there anything wrong, Will?"

"No, nothing wrong; that is to say, there is nothing to make me
regret that I went. I think I did some good to them."

"It was to do good to them that you went there."

"They wanted to have some one near them who could be to them as one
of their own family. He is too old,--too much worn out to be capable
of managing things; and the people there were, of course, robbing
him. I think I have put a stop to that."

"And you are to go again at Christmas?"

"Yes; they can do without me at my uncle's, and you will be there. I
have taken the land, and already bought some of the stock for it, and
am going to buy mo