r night. There
was nothing now but a vast airiness of mist damascening the blades of
light with which the street-lamps pierced the darkness.

"Pretty wet," said Alan distastefully patting the seat.

"We needn't stay long, but it's rather ripping, don't you think?"
Michael urged. "Alan, do you remember once we sat here on a night before
exams at the end of a summer term?"

"Yes, but it was a jolly sight warmer than it is now," said Alan.

"I know. We were in 'whites,'" said Michael pensively. "Alan, I'm in
love. I am really. You mustn't laugh. I was a fool over that first girl,
but now I am in love. Alan, she's only seventeen, and she has hair the
colour of that rather thick honey you get at chemists. Only it isn't
thick, but as foamy as a lemon-sponge. And her mouth is truly a bow and
her voice is gloriously deep and exciting, and her eyes are the most
extraordinary blue--as blue as ink in a bottle when you hold it up to
the light--and her chin is in two pieces rather like yours, and her
ankles--well--her ankles are absolutely divine. The extraordinary luck
is that she loves me, and I want you to meet her. I'm describing her
very accurately like this because I don't want you to think I'm raving
or quoting poetry. You see, you don't appreciate poetry, or I could
describe her much better."

"I do appreciate poetry," protested Alan.

"Oh, I know you like Kipling and Adam Lindsay Gordon, but I mean real
poetry. Well, I'm not going to argue about that. But, Alan, you must be
sympathetic and believe that I really am in love. She has a sister
called Doris. I haven't met her yet, but she's sure to be lovely, and I
think you ought to fall in love with her. Now wouldn't that be splendid?
Alan, you do believe I'm in love this time?"

Michael paused anxiously.

"I suppose you must be," said Alan slowly.

"And you're glad?" asked Michael a little wistfully.

"What's going to happen?" Alan wondered.

"Well, of course not much can happen just now. Not much can happen while
one is still at school," Michael went on. "But don't let's talk about
what is going to be. Let's talk about what is now."

Alan looked at him reproachfully.

"You used to enjoy talking about the future."

"Because it used always to be more interesting," Michael explained.

Alan rose from the seat and taking Michael's arm drew him down the hill.

"And will you come and meet her sister?" Michael asked.

"I expect so," said Alan.

"Hurrah!" cried