"

They talked of the problems of the underworld and Michael was encouraged
by what he fancied was a much greater breadth in her point of view
nowadays to speak of things that formerly would have made her gray eyes
harden in fastidious disapproval.

"I feel happier about you since this talk," she said. "As long as you
won't be content to let your great gift of humanity be wasted, as long
as you won't be content to think that in marrying your Lily you have
done with all your obligations."

"Oh, no, I shan't feel that. In fact, I shall be all the more anxious to
justify myself."

Kenneth came back to importune Michael for a walk as far as Grogg's
Folly.

"It's such fun for Kenneth to have you here!" Mrs. Ross exclaimed. "I've
never seen him so boisterously happy."

"I used to enjoy myself here just as much as he does," said Michael.
"Though perhaps I didn't show it. I always think of myself as rather a
dreary little beast when I was a kid."

"On the contrary, you were a most attractive boy; such a wide-eyed
little boy," said Mrs. Ross softly, looking back into time. "I've seldom
seen you so happy as just before I blew out your candle the first night
of your first stay here."

"I say, do come up the hill," interrupted Kenneth despairingly.

"A thousand apologies, my lord," said Michael. "We'll go now."

They did not stop until they reached the tower on the summit.

"When I was your age," Michael told him, "I used to think that I could
see the whole of England from here."

"Could you really?" said Kenneth, in admiration. "Could you see any of
France, too?"

"I expect so," Michael answered. "I expect really I thought I could see
the whole world. Kenneth, what are you going to be when you grow up? A
soldier?"

"Yes, if I can--or what is a philosopher?"

"A philosopher philosophizes."

"Does he really? Is that a difficult thing to do, to philosopherize?"

"Yes; it's almost harder to do than to pronounce."

Soon they were tearing down the hill, frightening the larks to right and
left of their progress.

The weather grew warmer every day, and at last Mrs. Carthew came out in
a wheel-chair to see the long-spurred columbines, claret and gold,
watchet, rose and white.

"Really quite a display," she said to Michael. "And so you're to get
married?"

He nodded.

"What for?" the old lady demanded, looking at him over her spectacles.

"Well, principally because I want to," Michael answered, after a short