perforce; there
seemed no alternative; all the same he was not quite pleased. It was
all sensible enough, of course, only as he saw Julia standing at the
gate in the November afternoon, he did not quite like it.

"Look here," he said shortly, "you shut up this place here, send Mr.
Gillat to his friends, or his rooms, or wherever he came from, and
come to me. You can come and make your home with me, and welcome, till
things are settled; there's plenty of room."

This was a good deal for Mr. Ponsonby to say, considering what an
annoyance the Polkington family had been to him, how--not without
wisdom--he had set his face against letting them into his house for
more than twenty-four hours at a stretch, and how much this particular
member had thwarted and exasperated him at their last meeting. Julia
recognised this and recognised also the kindness of the brusque
suggestion. She thanked him warmly for the offer though she refused
it, assuring him that she and Johnny would be all right at the
cottage.

"We do not find it lonely," she said; "we are quite happy here,
happier than anywhere else, I think."

The banker grunted, not convinced; Mr. Frazer shook hands with Julia
and said he hoped it would not be long before he saw her; Mrs.
Polkington reiterated the remark, kissing her the while; then they
drove away and Julia went into the house. She went into the back
kitchen; Mr. Gillat was not there; the dishes were all put away and
the place was quite tidy. Julia went through to the front kitchen;
there she saw Johnny; he was kneeling by the Captain's old chair, his
arms thrown across the seat, his silly pink face buried in them, his
rounded shoulders shaking with sobs.

Johnny loved as a dog loves, without reason, without thought of
return; not for wisdom, worth or deserts, just because he did love
and, having once loved, loved always; forgiving everything, expecting
nothing--foolish, faithful, true. So he loved his friend, so he
mourned him now, be-blubbering the seat of the shabby chair which
spoke so eloquently to him of the irritable, exacting presence now
gone for ever.

"Johnny," Julia said softly; "Johnny dear."

She put a hand on the round shoulders and somehow slipped herself into
the shabby chair.

"Johnny," she said, "let us sit by the fire awhile and not talk of
anything at all."

So they sat together till twilight fell.

The next day there came another to Julia, one who knew nothing of what
had befall