feels the same. It is such a weight off my mind. You know, I am
going to Cornwall myself; one of our Keble men has invited me. His
father has a nice place near Truro.'

'That will be a pleasant change for you,' she observed sympathetically.

'Oh, I always turn up trumps,' he replied brightly. 'Last Christmas, and
again at Easter, I had heaps of invitations. I was only bothering myself
about Kester: he looked so seedy, you know, and it seemed such hard
lines for him, poor boy! to see me go off and enjoy myself.'

'Well, you see, Kester means to enjoy himself too.'

'Don't I know that? He is a lucky fellow!' and Cyril sighed--a good
honest sigh it was, too, for Audrey heard it. 'Just fancy seven weeks in
paradise!'

'Well, it is very lovely there,' she answered demurely; and then she
discovered the stray lock, and pinned it up hastily.

'Oh, I was not meaning the place--though, of course, everyone knows
Braemar has its advantages. I think one's happiness depends more on the
society one has. Don't you think so too, Miss Ross?'

'I daresay you are right. Well, we shall have my sister and her husband,
and Kester and Captain Burnett; so we shall be a nice party.'

'Oh yes, of course Captain Burnett is going?' returned Cyril, in a
dubious tone.

'Yes; and I suppose you think he is lucky too?' and there was a gleam of
fun in Audrey's eyes.

'Not more so than usual; the gate of paradise is never shut on Captain
Burnett.'

But though Cyril laughed as he made this little speech, there was no
expression of mirth in his eyes. But Audrey chose to consider it a joke.

'If you talk in this manner, I shall think you envy Kester his treat.'

'I am afraid I do envy him, Miss Ross. If Kester and I could only change
places----'

He checked himself as though he had said too much, and turned to the
window.

'You will find them all on the circular bench,' she said, sitting down
to her desk again. 'When I have finished my letter I will join you.' And
Cyril took the hint.

'I wish he would not say such things; but, of course, he is only
joking,' thought Audrey. But in her heart she knew he was not joking.
Could she be ignorant that on all possible occasions Mr. Blake followed
her like a shadow--a very quiet, unobtrusive shadow; but, nevertheless,
he seemed always near. Could she be blind to the wistful looks that
seemed to watch her on all occasions, and that interpreted her every
wish? Perhaps no one else noticed them--Audr