might be valuable, for although he seemed to
have no passion to create, he was sure his judgment was good. How Guy
would appreciate Manon; and perhaps like so many classics he had taken
it as read, nor knew yet what depths of pity, what profundities of
beauty awaited his essay.

Michael made up his mind that instead of going to London this afternoon
he would ride over to Wychford and either stay with Guy or in any case
announce his speedy return to stay with him for at least the rest of the
summer. Alan would escort his mother and Stella home. It would be easier
for Alan that way. His mother would be so charming to him, and
everything would soon be arranged. With this plan to unfold, Michael
hurried across to Ninety-nine. Alan was already up. Everything was
packed. Michael realized he could already regard the digs without a pang
for the imminence of final departure. Perhaps the Abbe Prevost had
deprived him of the capacity for a merely sentimental emotion, at any
rate for the present.

Alan looked rather doubtful over Michael's proposal.

"I hate telling things in the train," he objected.

"You haven't got to tell anything in the train," Michael contradicted.
"My mother is sure to invite you to dinner to-night, and you can tell
her at home. It's much better for me to be out of it. I shall be back in
a few days to pack up various things I shall want for Plashers Mead."

"It's a most extraordinary thing," said Alan slowly, "that the moment
you think there's a chance of my marrying your sister, you drop me like
a hot brick."

Michael touched his shoulder affectionately.

"I'm more pleased about you and her than about anything that has ever
happened," he said earnestly. "Now are you content?"

"Of course, I oughtn't to have spoken to her," said Alan. "I really
don't know, looking back at last night, how on earth I had the cheek. I
expect I said a lot of rot. I ought certainly to have waited until I was
in the Home Civil."

"You must chuck that idea," said Michael. "Stella would loathe the Civil
Service."

"I can't marry ..." Alan began.

"You've got to manage her affairs. She has a temperament. She also has
land." Then Michael explained about Prescott, and so eloquent was he
upon the need for Stella's happiness that Alan began to give way.

"I always thought I should be too proud to live on a woman," he said.

"Don't make me bring forward all my arguments over again," Michael
begged. "I'm already feeling ver