" said Henry.

They were silent for a while, and before they spoke again, the train
backed into the station, and they passed through the barriers so that
Marsh could secure his seat.

"Well, what do _you_ propose to do for Ireland?" Marsh asked again, when
he had entered his carriage.

"The best I can, I suppose. I don't know yet!..."

Marsh turned quickly to Henry and put his hand on his shoulder. "Henry,"
he said, "I hope you don't mind ... I know about Sheila Morgan and
you!..."

"You know?..."

"Yes. I'm sorry about that. I don't think you should let it upset you!"

Henry did not reply for a few moments, but sat still staring in front of
him. In a sub-conscious way, he was wondering why it was that the
carriages were not cleaner....

"I'm frightfully miserable, John," he said at last.

"But why, Henry?"

"Oh, because of everything. I don't know. I'm a fool, I suppose!"

"You're not going to pieces just because you've fallen in love with a
girl and it's turned out wrong? My dear Henry, that's a poor sort of a
spirit!"

"I know it is, but I'm a sloppy fellow!..."

"This affair with Sheila Morgan is all the more reason why you should
think of something big to do. I wish you were coming to Dublin with me
now. Dublin's very beautiful in the summer, and we could go up into the
mountains and talk about things."

"Oh, well, we shall meet in Dublin fairly soon," Henry replied, smiling
at Marsh. It had been settled that he was to enter Trinity a little
earlier than his father had previously planned.

"Yes, that's true!"

The hour at which the train was due to depart came, and Henry got out of
the carriage and stood on the platform while Marsh, his head thrust
through the window, talked to him.

"You might write to me," he said. "We ought not to drift away from each
other, Henry!..."

"We won't do that. We'll see each other in Dublin."

"Yes, of course. You must meet Galway when you come back. He's a
schoolmaster and a barrister and a poet and heaven knows what not. He's
a splendid fellow. Perhaps he'll persuade you to take more interest in
Irish things!"

"Perhaps!"

The guard blew his whistle, and the train began to move out of the
station.

"Don't get too English, Henry!" Marsh shouted, waving his hand in
farewell.

Henry smiled at him, but did not answer.

"Good-bye!" Marsh called to him.

"Good-bye!" Henry answered.

The train swung round a bend and disappeared on its way south, and
H