m Arundel of
yore.

They walked about Lady Linden's model farm together, Tom acting as
showman with no little pride, and yet behind even the enthusiasm there
was a weariness that Hugh detected.

"And the wedding, Tom?" Hugh asked him presently. "When is it to be?"

Tom looked up. "I don't know, Alston, sometimes I think never. Alston,
you--you've seen her. You remember her as she was, the sweetest, dearest
girl in the world, her eyes and her heart filled with sunshine, and
now..." The lad's voice trailed off miserably.

"Hugh, I can't make her out; it worries me and puzzles me and--and hurts
me. She is so different, she takes me up so sharply. I--I know I am a
fool, I know I am not fit to touch her little hand. I know that I am not
a man--like you, a man a girl could look up to and respect, but I've
always loved her, Hugh, and I've kept straight. There are things I might
have done and didn't do--for her sake. I just thought of her, Hugh, and
so--so I've lived a decent life!"

Hugh's eyes kindled, for he knew that what the boy said was truth.

Thursday afternoon saw Hugh back at Hurst Dormer. It was a week now
since he had left Starden. She had asked him to leave, and he had left,
yet not exactly for that reason. His coming here had done no good, had
only given him fresh worry and anxiety, and now he realised that all his
sympathy was for Tom and not for Marjorie.

"Oh, my Lord! Uncertain, coy and hard to please is correct, and I
suppose some of them can be ministering angels--yes, God bless them!
I've seen them!" His face softened, his thoughts flew back to other
days, days of strife and bloodshed, of misery and death, days when men
lay helpless and in pain, and in memory Hugh saw the gentle,
soft-footed girls at their work of mercy. Ministering angels--God's own!

"Mrs. Morrisey, I am going to London."

"Very good, sir!" Mrs. Morrisey was giving up all hopes of this restless
young master of hers. "Very good, sir!"

"I shall be back"--he paused--"eventually, if not sooner!"

"Certainly, sir!" said Mrs. Morrisey, who had no sense of humour.

"Meanwhile, send on any letters to the Northborough Hotel. I shall catch
the seven-thirty," said Hugh.

"I'll order the car round, sir," said Mrs. Morrisey.

And this very day at Starden pride broke down; the need was so great. It
was not the money that the man demanded, but the bonds that paying it
would forge about her, bind her for all time.

"Please come to