ly before him, while Max
watched him curiously.

"And I hope--I shall see you there often," said Max.

"Eh? what?" said Kenneth, flushing and frowning. "No, no, it's well
meant, Max, old chap, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't go there again."

There was another silence, and, to Kenneth's great relief, Max rose and
left the room without a word.

"Poor old chap!" said Kenneth; "I've offended him, I suppose. I did not
mean to. It was very blundering and foolish of him, though, to propose
such a thing."

He sat gazing before him sternly.

"Poor old Dunroe!" he said sadly. "How I can see the dear old place
again, with its rocks all golden-ruddy weed, its shimmering sea, and the
distant blue mountains. Ah, what days those were! I should like to see
the dear old place again. But no, no! I couldn't go and stay there
now."

He leaped up, and strode once or twice up and down the room.

"Here, what a pretty host I am! I must fetch him down. I've hurt him,
and he always was such a sensitive chap."

He was half across the room when Max returned, with a large leather
lock-up folio under his arm.

"Oh, you needn't have fetched that down," said Kenneth. "Plenty of
writing materials here. But you are not going to write to-night?"

"No, not to-night," said Max quietly, taking a little silver key from
off his watch-chain, and opening the folio, which was made with a couple
of very large pockets. "Do you take any interest in old writings?"

"Not a bit, my boy. I've had enough to do to study up and pass my
exams. But what have you got there?"

"The old mortgage and the title-deeds of Dunroe," said Max quietly.

"But--I say, old fellow, don't do that. I'm pretty hard, but the name
of Dunroe always gives me a choky feeling in the throat."

"So it does me, Ken, old fellow!" cried Max, with his voice trembling.

"Then why--?"

"Wait a moment. Do you remember how we two were gradually drawn
together up there in the north?"

"Yes, of course," said Kenneth huskily.

"I never had a brother, Ken, and I used to feel at last that I had found
one in you."

"And I used to think something of the kind, but--"

"Why not, Ken?"--Max was holding out his hand.

Kenneth stood a moment looking in his eyes, and then grasped the
extended hand firmly.

"Yes," he cried; "why not? It's the same old Max after all."

"Then you'll act as a brother to me if I ever ask you to help me in some
critical point of my life?"