piece of orange peel off the pavement. He has been nourished on
copy-book headings and 'Sanford and Merton.' Ever read 'Sanford and
Merton'?"

"I--I tried to once," said Joan.

"There was no 'trying' with Bassett," said Mr. Vyner, rather severely.
"He took to it as a duck takes to water. By modelling his life on
its teaching he won a silver medal for never missing an attendance at
school."

"Father has seen it," said Joan, with a smile.

"Even the measles failed to stop him," continued Robert. "Day by day, a
little more flushed than usual, perhaps, he sat in his accustomed
place until the whole school was down with it and had to be closed in
consequence. Then, and not till then, did Bassett feel that he had saved
the situation."

"I don't suppose he knew it, poor boy," said Joan.

"Anyway, he got the medal," said Robert, "and he has a row of prizes for
good conduct. I never had one; not even a little one. I suppose you had
a lot?"

Miss Hartley maintained a discreet silence.

"Nobody ever seemed to notice my good conduct," continued Mr. Vyner,
still bent on making conversation. "They always seemed to notice the
other kind fast enough; but the 'good' seemed to escape them."

He sighed faintly, and glancing at the girl, who was looking out of the
window again, took up his pen and signed his blotting-paper.

"I suppose you know the view from that window pretty well?" he said,
putting the paper aside with great care.

"Ever since I was a small girl," said Joan, looking round. "I used to
come here sometimes and wait for father. Not so much lately; and now, of
course--"

Mr. Vyner looked uncomfortable. "I hope you will come to this room
whenever you want to see him," he said, earnestly. "He--he seemed to
prefer being in the general office."

Miss Hartley busied herself with the window again. "Seemed to prefer,"
she said, impatiently, under her breath. "Yes."

There was a long silence, which Mr. Vyner, gazing in mute consternation
at the vision of indignant prettiness by the window, felt quite unable
to break. He felt that the time had at last arrived at which he might
safely fetch Mr. Hartley without any self-upbraidings later on, and
was just about to rise when the faint tap at the door by which Bassett
always justified his entrance stopped him, and Bassett entered the room
with some cheques for signature. Despite his habits, the youth started
slightly as he saw the visitor, and then, placing the cheques be