uld be shocked by the confidence
which he longed to impose upon him, and it was disquieting to realize
that these last summer holidays of school, however complete with the
quiet contentment of familiar pleasures, would for himself grow slowly
irksome with deferred excitement.

But as the green miles slowly unfolded themselves, as the dauntless
yellow amoret still swung from a lissome stem, as Alan spoke of the
river and the grey tower on the hill, Michael saw the fretful colours of
the Exhibition grow dim; and when dreaming in the haze of the slumberous
afternoon they perceived the village and heard the mysterious murmur of
human tranquillity, Michael's heart overflowed with gratitude for the
sight of Alan by his side. Then the church-clock that struck a timeless
hour sounded for him one of those moments whose significance would
resist eternally whatever lying experience should endeavour to assail
the truth which had made of one flashing scene a revelation.

Michael was ineffably refreshed by his vision of the imperishable
substance of human friendship, and he could not but jeer at himself now
for having a little while back put Alan into the domain of objects
inanimate.

"There's your cottage," said Alan. "It's practically next door to Cobble
Place. Rather decent, eh?"

Michael could not say how decent he thought it, nor how decent he
thought Alan.

"I vote we go up the river after tea," he suggested.

"Rather," said Alan. "I expect you'll come round to tea with us. Don't
be long unpacking."

"I shan't, you bet," said Michael.

Nor was he, and after a few minutes he and his mother were sitting in
the drawing-room at Cobble Place, eating a tea that must have been very
nearly the same as an unforgettable tea of nine years ago. Mrs. Carthew
did not seem quite so old; nor indeed did anybody, and as for Joan and
May Carthew, they were still girls. Yet even when he and Alan had stayed
down here for the wedding only four years ago, Michael had always been
conscious of everybody's age. And now he was curiously aware of
everybody's youth. He supposed vaguely that all this change of outlook
was due to his own remarkable precocity and rapid advance; but
nevertheless he still ate with all the heartiness of childhood.

After tea Mrs. Ross with much tact took up Michael by himself to see her
son and, spared the necessity of comment, Michael solemnly regarded the
fair-haired boy of two who was squeaking an india-rubber hors