'll be higher next time, Fa, won't it?" he had murmured, still
evidently fighting a keen disappointment.

And Dion had caught him up, given him a hug, whispered "My boy!" to him,
put him down and gone straight out of the room with Rosamund, who had
not spoken a word.

And that had been the last of Robin for his father.

In the evening, when Robin was asleep, Dion had said good-by to
Rosamund. The catastrophe of the tower of bricks had haunted his mind.
As he had chosen to make of the tower an omen, in its destruction he had
found a presage of evil which depressed him, which even woke in him ugly
fears of the future. He had had a great deal out of life, not all he had
wanted, but still a great deal. Perhaps he was not going to have
much more. He had not spoken of his fears to Rosamund, but had been
resolutely cheerful with her in their last conversation. Neither of them
had mentioned the possibility of his not coming back. They had talked
of what probably lay before him in South Africa, and of Robin, and
presently Rosamund had said:

"I want to make a suggestion. Will you promise to tell me if you dislike
it?"

"Yes. What is it?"

"Would you mind if I succeeded in letting this house and went into the
country with Robin to wait for your coming back?"

"Letting it furnished, do you mean?"

"Yes."

"But won't you be dull in the country, away from mother, and Beattie,
and godfather, and all our friends?"

"I could never be dull with Robin and nature, never, and I wouldn't go
very far from London. I thought of something near Welsley."

"So that you could go in to Cathedral service when 'The Wilderness' was
sung!"

He had smiled as he had said it, but his own reference to Rosamund's
once-spoken-of love of the wilderness had, in a flash, brought the hill
of Drouva before him, and he had faced man's tragedy--remembered joys of
the past in a shadowed present.

"Go into the country, Rose. I only want you to be happy, but"--he had
hesitated, and then had added, almost in spite of himself--"but not too
happy."

Not too happy! That really was the great fear at his heart now that
he was voyaging towards South Africa, that Rosamund would be too happy
without him. He no longer deceived himself. This drastic change in his
life had either taught him to face realities, or simply prevented him
from being able to do anything else. He told himself the truth, and it
was this, that Rosamund did not love him at all as he loved