of seathistle, the poor pale reformer began to draw out
the details of his scheme on its material side. Three floors of rooms
brightly furnished, well lit and warmed; a large hall for the Sunday
lectures, concerts, entertainments, and story-telling; rooms for
the boys' club; two rooms for women and girls, reached by a separate
entrance; a library and reading-room open to both sexes, well stored
with books, and made beautiful by pictures; three or four smaller rooms
to serve as committee rooms and for the purposes of the Naturalist Club
which had been started in May on the Murewell plan; and, if possible, a
gymnasium.

'_Money!_' he said, drawing up with a laugh in mid-career. 'There's the
rub, of course. But I shall manage it.'

To judge from the past, Flaxman thought it extremely likely that he
would. He studied the cabalistic lines Elsmere's stick had made in the
sand for a minute or two; then he said dryly, 'I will take the first
expense; and draw on me afterward up to five hundred a year, for the
first four years.'

Robert turned upon him and grasped his hand.

'I do not thank you,' he said quietly, after a moment's pause; 'the work
itself will do that.'

Again they strolled on, talking, plunging into details, till Flaxman's
pulse beat as fast as Robert's; so full of infectious hope and energy
was the whole being of the man before him.

'I can take in the women and girls now,' Robert said at once. 'Catherine
has promised to superintend it all.'

Then suddenly something struck the mobile mind, and he stood an instant
looking at his companion. It was the first time he had mentioned
Catherine's name in connection with the North R---- work. Flaxman could
not mistake the emotion, the unspoken thanks in those eyes. He turned
away, nervously knocking off the ashes of his cigar. But the two men
understood each other.

CHAPTER XLIX.

Two days later they were in London again. Robert was a great deal
better, and beginning to kick against invalid restraints. All men have
their pet irrationalities. Elsmere's irrationality was an aversion to
doctors, from the point of view of his own ailments. He had an unbounded
admiration for them as a class, and would have nothing to say to them
as individuals that he could possibly help. Flaxman was sarcastic;
Catherine looked imploring in vain. He vowed that he was treating
himself with a skill any professional might envy, and went his way.
And for a time the stimulus of Lond