s walks and talks with
Elsmere, had never as yet broken down. He would talk of other men and
other men's' labors by the hour, but not of his own. Elsmere reflected
on the fact, mingling with the reflection a certain humorous scorn of
his own constant openness and readiness to take counsel with the world.

'However, _his_ book isn't a mere excuse, as Langham's is,' Elsmere
inwardly remarked. 'Langham, in a certain sense, plays even with
learning; Mr. Wendover plays at nothing.'

By the way, he had a letter from Langham in his pocket much more
cheerful and human than usual. Let him look through it again.

Not a word, of course, of that National Gallery experience!--a
circumstance, however, which threw no light on it either way.

'I find myself a good deal reconciled to life by this migration of
Mine,' wrote Langham, 'Now that my enforced duties to them are all
done with, my fellow-creatures seem to me much more decent fellows than
before. The great stir of London, in which, unless I please, I have no
part whatever, attracts me more than I could have thought possible. No
one in these noisy streets has any rightful claim upon me. I have
cut away at one stroke lectures, and Boards of Studies, and tutors'
meetings, and all the rest of the wearisome Oxford make-believe, and
the creature left behind feels lighter and nimbler than he has felt
for years. I go to concerts and theatres; I look at the people in
the streets; I even begin to take an outsider's interest in social
questions, in the puny dikes, which well-meaning people are trying to
raise all round us against the encroaching, devastating labor-troubles
of the future. By dint of running away from life, I may end by cutting
a much more passable figure in it than before. Be consoled, my dear
Elsmere; reconsider your remonstrances.'

There, under the great cedar by the gate, stood Mr. Wendover. Illumined
as he was by the spring sunshine, he struck Elsmere as looking unusually
shrunken and old. And yet under the look of physical exhaustion there
was a now serenity, almost a peacefulness of expression, which gave the
whole man a different aspect.

'Don't take me far,' he said abruptly, as they started. 'I have not got
the energy for it. I have been over-working and must go away.'

'I have been sure of it for some time,' said Elsmere warmly. 'You ought
to have a long rest. But mayn't I know, Mr. Wendover, before you take
it, what this great task is you have been toili