ces.

"Well, then I _will_ succeed," retorted Guy. "Moreover, I will succeed
in my own way. It seems a pity that we should argue acrimoniously. I
shall say no more. I accept the responsibility. For what you've done for
me I'm very much obliged. Would you care for a hand at piquet?"

"Oh, certainly," said his father.

Guy hugged himself with another minor triumph. At least it was he who
had determined when the discussion should be closed.

The next day, as Guy stood on the Shipcot platform and watched the slow
train puffing away into the unadventurous country, he had a brief
sentiment of regret for the failure of his father's visit, and made up
his mind to write to him a letter to-morrow, which would sweeten a
little of the bitterness between them. The bees buzzing round the
wine-dark dahlias along the platform were once again audible; and close
at hand was the hum of a reaper-and-binder. But as he drove back to
Wychford his father passed from his mind, and mostly Guy thought of
walking with Pauline under the pale and ardent blue of this September
sky that was reflected in the chicory flowers along the sparse and dusty
hedgerow.

OCTOBER

"My dears, he frightened me to death," Pauline declared to her family
when Mr. Hazlewood had left the Rectory. "Only I expect, you know, that
really he's rather sweet."

"I don't think he approved of us very much," said Margaret.

"I didn't approve of him very much," said Monica.

"And where was Francis?" asked Mrs. Grey.

"Francis was a naughty boy," said Pauline.

Since they were sitting in the nursery, her mother allowed the christian
name to pass without reproof.

"He was so exactly like Guy," said Margaret.

"Like Guy?" Pauline echoed, incredulously.

"Yes, of course. Didn't you notice that?" Margaret laughed.

"You're quite right, Margaret," said Mrs. Grey. "How clever of you to
see. Now, of course, I realize how much alike they were ... how clever
you are!"

"Without Pauline," Margaret went on, "Guy might easily become his father
all over again."

"But, my dears," said Pauline, "that would be terrible. I remember how
frightened I was of Guy the first day he came to the Rectory, and if he
grows more like his father, I don't think I shall ever be anything else
but frightened of him, even if we live for ever. For, though I'm sure
he's really very sweet, I don't believe one would ever get _quite_ used
to Mr. Hazlewood."

Yet when Pauline was alone and