ped a few insignificant remarks. No
one paid much attention to him.

"Seventy-five runs!" exclaimed Mrs. Woolstan, addressing herself as
though with keen interest to the son of the family, a high-coloured,
large-limbed young man of about Lashmar's age. "That was splendid! But
you did better still against East Croydon, didn't you?"

"Made my century, there," answered Mr. Barker, jerking out a leg in
self-satisfaction.

"How conceited you're making him, Mrs. Woolstan!" cried one of his
sisters, with a shrill laugh. "It's a rule in this house to put the
stopper on Jim when he begins to talk about cricket. If we didn't,
there'd be no living with him."

"Are you a cricketer, Mr.--Mr. Lasher?" asked materfamilias, eyeing the
visitor curiously.

"It's a long time since I played," was the reply, uttered with scarcely
veiled contempt.

Mrs. Woolstan talked on in the highest spirits, exhibiting her intimacy
with the Barker household, and her sympathy with their concerns.
Lashmar waited for her to question him about Hollingford, to give him
an opportunity of revealing his importance; but her thoughts seemed
never to turn in that direction. As soon as a movement in the company
enabled him to rise, he stepped up to her, and said in a voice audible
to those standing by:

"I want to speak to you about Leonard. Shall you be at home this
evening?"

Iris gave him a startled look.

"You haven't bad news of Len?"

"Oh no; nothing of the kind."

"Can you call at six o'clock?"

He looked into her eyes, and nodded.

"What do you say to a boat, Mrs. Woolstan?" shouted Barker the son.

This suggestion was acclaimed, and Lashmar was urged to join the party,
but he gladly seized this chance of escape. Wandering along the grassy
edge of the cliffs, he presently descried the Barkers and their friend
putting forth in two little boats. The sight exasperated him. He strode
gloomily on, ever and again turning his head to watch the boats, and
struggling against the fears that once more assailed him.

In a hollow of dry sand, where the cliffs broke, he flung himself down,
and lay still for an hour or two. Below him, on the edge of the tide,
children were playing; he watched them sullenly. Lashmar disliked
children; the sound of their voices was disagreeable to him. He
wondered whether he would ever have children of his own, and heartily
hoped not.

Six o'clock seemed very long in coming. But at length he found himself
at Sunrise Te