minutes each time? I have decided to cut
Scotland and pass August at Folkestone instead, just lounging on
the beach and reading novels. Please say 'yes.'

"P. P. S. I don't like the idea of my role being limited to
writing you amusing letters. Won't you allot me a more active and
satisfying part? Would it not be a good idea for you to appoint
me your 'London agent?' Suppose you give me the list of your
creditors and remit me your money as soon as you have a decent
instalment put by. You could leave the distribution to me. The
workmen should be paid first, of course. I shall arrange to
ferret them out, which, I think, will not be difficult, as most
of them are, no doubt, attached to the theatre. It would make me
so happy if you said 'yes.' After all, one's life, when once its
conditions are settled, and its allotted tasks performed, really
reduces itself to inter-relations with a few chosen personalities,
and everything else becomes a mere background against which one
lives. It is the few who occupy one's central consciousness and
make one happy or miserable. You will see, therefore, how
important to me this apparently little thing will be."

His father's reply was brief and to the point. He thanked his dear son
for listening to his prayer, and was happy to hear that everything was
now well. As to the irreparable mistake, that, of course, must be
faced and lived down. He would respect Morgan's wishes and not seek to
see him for the present. Directly he had received Morgan's letter he
had sent a long telegram to the Medhursts, which he was now
supplementing by a letter. They had telegraphed back, asking him to
convey to Morgan their love and hoping they might hear about him from
time to time. "You have made me understand a good deal to which I have
been blind," he went on. "You were never an ordinary lad; you had
special needs, as has every lad of any individuality. I should have
sought to comprehend them, instead of trying to drive you along the
ordinary lines. No wonder there was a discord--a jarring and a
clashing. God speed you, my dear son, and with all my heart do I wish
you success in doing that which you feel to be right. For the present,
good-bye!"

When Morgan wrote again to Helen he prayed her not to come just yet.
His mood was desperately set on isolation, till he could feel he had
tackled the task before him and mad