they interrupt him by comment or question until he had finished. Then
Mrs. Godfrey said softly--"You have done a good work there, Mr.
Herrick."

"Who, I?--pooh--nonsense," but Malcolm flushed a little at her
appreciative look. "I have done nothing--it is all Miss Jacobi's
generosity."

"I think we should hear a different version from her," returned Mrs.
Godfrey with a smile, "and I can see Alick agrees with me," nodding to
her husband. "Must you really go to Staplegrove to-night? Suppose
Cedric goes to Cheyne Walk?"

"That is quite possible," returned Malcolm; "nay, more, it is extremely
probable; and I pencilled a line to Verity in the train. She is to tell
him where I have gone; but my only fear is that he will not follow
me--Saul Jacobi will keep too tight a hold of him. By the bye, Colonel,
I wonder what infernal lies that fellow has induced him to tell the
authorities. If he has taken French leave of absence, they will
rusticate him."

"I think he had better leave the university," returned Colonel Godfrey
grimly, "for he is only bent on mischief, and will never pass his
examination. Let him go abroad a bit with some reliable person and get
over his folly, and then see if he will not settle down better. Dinah
could afford to give him a year's travelling, and I know she would
never begrudge the money."

"No, indeed, she is only too generous by nature," returned his wife;
and then after a little more conversation Malcolm took leave of Mrs.
Godfrey, and he and the Colonel walked down to the station.

CHAPTER XXXII

STORM AND STRESS

And yet, because I love thee, I obtain
From that same love this vindicating grace--
To live on still in love, and yet in vain;
To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face.
--ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.

"C'est le premier pas qui coute," and Malcolm proved the truth of the
old French proverb, as he dismissed his fly and walked up the dark
drive towards the Wood House.

He no longer felt the hot and cold fits that had shaken him as though
with inward ague on his previous visit. He had seen Elizabeth again,
had at least retained his outward calmness, and now he felt more sure
of himself.

"The pains and penalties of life," Leah had said to him once, and he
had thought the expression a strange one on the lips of so beautiful a
woman; but he knew better now, and how such pains and penalties fall to
the share of ma