ld
make him thirty-two now--and Stephen could hardly imagine what "Wings"
would have developed into at thirty-two. They had not met since
Stephen's last year at Oxford, for Caird had gone to live abroad, and if
he came back to England sometimes, he had never made any sign of wishing
to pick up the old friendship where it had dropped. But here was this
letter.

Stephen knew that Caird had inherited a good deal of money, and a house
in Paris, from an uncle or some other near relative; and a common friend
had told him that there was also an Arab palace, very ancient and very
beautiful, in or near Algiers. Several years had passed since Nevill
Caird's name had been mentioned in his hearing, and lately it had not
even echoed in his mind; but now, the handwriting and the neat seal on
this envelope brought vividly before him the image of his friend: small,
slight, boyish in face and figure, with a bright, yet dreamy smile, and
blue-grey eyes which had the look of seeing beautiful things that nobody
else could see.

"DEAR LEGS,"

began the letter ("Legs" being the name which Stephen's skill as a
runner, as well as the length of his limbs, had given him in
undergraduate days).

"Dear Legs,

"I've often thought about you in the last nine years, and hope
you've occasionally thought of me, though somehow or other we
haven't written. I don't know whether you've travelled much, or
whether England has absorbed all your interests. Anyhow, can't you
come out here and make me a visit--the longer it is, the more I
shall be pleased. This country is interesting if you don't know it,
and fascinating if you do. My place is rather nice, and I should
like you to see it. Still better, I should like to see you. Do come
if you can, and come soon. I should enjoy showing you my garden at
its best. It's one of the things I care for most, but there are
other things. Do let me introduce you to them all. You can be as
quiet as you wish, if you wish. I'm a quiet sort myself, as you may
remember, and North Africa suits me better than London or Paris. I
haven't changed for the worse I hope, and I'm sure you haven't, in
any way.

"You can hardly realize how much pleasure it will give me if you'll
say 'yes' to my proposal.

"Yours as ever

"NEVILL CAIRD, alias 'Wings,'"