s like a
searchlight on the events of the past week, and they revealed much that
had been very dark and confused. But he was thinking of her. Their
acquaintance seemed to have grown into intimacy already.

"I can't thank you enough," he said again.

"It is so nice of you," she said laughing, "not to have thought it
presumptuous of me. But Robin is a very good friend of mine. Of
course you will find out what a sterling fellow he is--under all that
superficiality. He is one of my best friends here!"

He got up to go. As he held out his hand, he said: "I will tell you
frankly, Miss Bethel, that Pendragon hasn't received me with open arms.
I don't know why it should--and twenty years in New Zealand knocks the
polish off. But it has been delightful this evening--more than you
know."

"It has been nice for us too," Mary answered. "I don't know that
Pendragon is exactly thronging our door night and day--and a new friend
is worth having. You see I've claimed you as a friend because you
listened so patiently to my sermon--that's a sure test."

She had spoken lightly but he had felt the bitterness in her voice.
Life was hard for her too, then? He knew that he was glad.

"I shall come back," he said.

"Please," she answered.

He said good-bye to Mrs. Bethel and she pressed his hand very warmly.
"You are very kind to take pity on us," she said, ogling him under the
gas in the hall; "I hope you will come often."

Bethel said very little. He walked with him to the gate and laughed.
"We're absurd, aren't we, Trojan?" he said. "But don't neglect us
altogether. Even absurdity is refreshing sometimes."

But Harry went up the hill with a happier heart than he had had since
he entered Pendragon.

That promise of adventure had been fulfilled.

CHAPTER VI

Randal was only at "The Flutes" two days, but he effected a good deal
in that time. He did nothing very active--called on Mrs. le Terry and
rode over the Downs once with Robin--but he managed to leave a flock of
very active impressions behind him. That, as he knew well, was his
strong point. He could not be with you a day without vaguely, almost
indistinctly, but nevertheless quite certainly, influencing your
opinions. He never said anything very definite, and, on looking back,
you could never assert that he had positively taken any one point of
view; but he had left, as it were, atmosphere--an assurance that this
was the really right thing to do, th