did not seem to me to attempt to consider yours;
but it is easy, and indeed impertinent, to criticise, and I hope that,
on the next occasion of your writing, I shall hear that things are
going smoothly and that the first inevitable awkwardnesses have worn
off.

I must stop. I have let my pen wander away with me. But do consider
what I said about coming up to town; I am sure that it is bad for you
in every way--this burial. Think of your friends, old chap, and let
them see something of you.--Yours ever,

LANCELOT RANDAL.

"THE FLUTES," PENDRAGON,
_October_ 12, 1906.

My dear Lance--Thanks very much for your letter. This mustn't pretend
to be anything of a letter. I have a thousand things to do, and no
time to do them. It was very delightful seeing you, and I, too, was
extremely sorry we could not see more of you. My aunt enjoyed your
visit enormously, and told me to remind you that you are expected here,
for a long stay, on your return from Germany.

Yes, I was worried and am still. There are various things--"it never
rains but it pours"--but I cannot feel that they are in the least due
to my vegetating. I haven't the least intention of sticking here, but
my grandfather is, as you know, very ill, and it is impossible for me
to get away at present.

Resent what you said! Why, no, of course not. We are too good friends
for resentment, and I am only too grateful for your advice. The
situation here at this moment is peculiarly Meredithian--and, although
one ought perhaps to be silent concerning it, I know that I can trust
you absolutely and I need your advice badly. Besides, I must speak to
some one about it; I have been thinking it over all day and am quite at
a loss. There was battle royal this morning after breakfast, and my
father was extremely rude to my aunt, acting apparently from quite
selfish motives. I want to look at it fairly, but I can, honestly, see
it in no other light. My aunt accused him of indifference with regard
to the family good name. She, quite rightly, I think, pointed out that
his behaviour from first to last had been the reverse of courteous to
herself and her friends, and she suggested that he had, perhaps,
scarcely realised the importance of maintaining the family dignity in
the eyes of Pendragon. You remember his continual absences and the
queer friendships that he formed. She suggested that he should modify
these, and take a little more interest in the circle to