is chair, lost
in pleasant recollections. Some years earlier, he had by chance fallen
in with a lad named West when fishing among the Scottish hills. The
young man's sister and elder brother were staying with him at the
remote hotel in which Singleton had quarters, and somewhat to his
astonishment they soon made friends with him.

Poverty had made him reserved; he knew that he was a little awkward and
unpolished, but the Wests had not attempted to patronize him. Their
cordiality set him at his ease; he liked the careless, good-humored
lad; Ethel West, grave-eyed, direct, and candid, made a strong
impression, and he had been drawn to the quiet lawyer who was much
older than either. They spent delightful days together on the lake and
among the hills; Singleton told them something about his studies and
ambitions, and in the evenings they persuaded him to sing. Ethel was a
musician and Singleton sang well. On leaving they had invited him to
visit them; but, partly from diffidence, Singleton had not gone, though
he knew these were not the people who took a man up when he could be of
service and afterward dropped him.

Now he had received a letter from Edgar West, saying that he was
farming in western Canada and inquiring if Singleton could tell him
anything about the drought-resisting and quick-ripening properties of
certain varieties of wheat. The botanist was glad to place his
knowledge at his friend's disposal, and, taking up pen and paper, he
spent an hour on a treatise on the subject, which was to save Lansing
expense and trouble, and bring Singleton further communications from
Edgar. Then he smoked another pipe and went to bed; and a fortnight
later he sailed for the tropics.

Shortly after he had gone, Herbert heard of his departure, and the
letter containing the news arrived on a cheerless afternoon during
which his doctor had visited him. After the doctor left, Herbert
entered the room where his wife and Sylvia were, and took his place in
an easy chair by a window. Outside, the lawn was covered with
half-melted snow and the trees raised naked, dripping branches above
the drooping shrubs. Farther back the hedgerows ran somberly across
the white fields, and in the distance the hills loomed, desolate and
gray, against a leaden sky.

"Ballin says I'd better take it easy for some time yet," Herbert
informed his wife. "In fact, he recommends a trip abroad; Algiers or
Egypt, for preference." He indicated