ds to people who have
nothing in common with you? I hate all this interfering. For God's sake
let us go our way; and if we can get a little pleasure out of dross and
tinsel, let us keep it."

"I want to give the poor high ideals," said Mary.

"I should have thought bread and cheese would be more useful."

"My dear Jamie," said Mary, good-naturedly, "I think you're talking of
things you know nothing about."

"You must remember that Miss Clibborn has worked nobly among the poor
for many years."

"My own conscience tells me I'm right," pursued Mary, "and you see Mr.
Dryland agrees with me. I know you mean well, Jamie; but I don't think
you quite understand the matter, and I fancy we had better change the
conversation."

VII

Next day Mary went into Primpton House. Colonel Parsons nodded to her as
she walked up the drive, and took off his spectacles. The front door was
neither locked nor bolted in that confiding neighbourhood, and Mary
walked straight in.

"Well, my dear?" said the Colonel, smiling with pleasure, for he was as
fond of her as of his own son.

"I thought I'd come and see you alone. Jamie's still out, isn't he? I
saw him pass our house. I was standing at the window, but he didn't look
up."

"I daresay he was thinking. He's grown very thoughtful now."

Mrs. Parsons came in, and her quiet face lit up, too, as she greeted
Mary. She kissed her tenderly.

"Jamie's out, you know."

"Mary has come to see us," said the Colonel. "She doesn't want us to
feel neglected now that she has the boy."

"We shall never dream that you can do anything unkind, dear Mary,"
replied Mrs. Parsons, stroking the girl's hair. "It's natural that you
should think more of him than of us."

Mary hesitated a moment.

"Don't you think Jamie has changed?"

Mrs. Parsons looked at her quickly.

"I think he has grown more silent. But he's been through so much. And
then he's a man now; he was only a boy when we saw him last."

"D'you think he cares for me any more?" asked Mary, with a rapid tremor
in her voice.

"Mary!"

"Of course he does! He talks of you continually," said Colonel Parsons,
"and always as if he were devoted. Doesn't he, Frances?"

The old man's deep love for Mary had prevented him from seeing in
Jamie's behaviour anything incongruous with that of a true lover.

"What makes you ask that question, Mary?" said Mrs. Parsons.

Her feminine tact had led her to notice a difference in Jamie's feeli