LITMIR.BIZ

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have decided not to go in at all.'

      'Indeed; I'm sorry to hear that.'

      'I have half made up my mind not to return to Whitelaw.'

      Observing his hearer's look of surprise, Godwin asked himself whether it signified a knowledge of his footing at Whitelaw. The possibility of this galled him; but it was such a great step to have declared, as it were in public, an intention of freeing himself, that he was able to talk on with something of aggressive confidence.

      'I think I shall go in for some practical work of a scientific kind. It was a mistake for me to pursue the Arts course.'

      Christian looked at him earnestly.

      'Are you sure of that?'

      'Yes, I feel sure of it.'

      There was silence. Christian beat the ground with his stick.

      'Your state of mind, then,' he said at length, 'is more like my own than I imagined. I, too, have wavered for a long time between literature and science, and now at last I have quite decided--quite--that scientific study is the only safe line for me. The fact is, a man must concentrate himself. Not only for the sake of practical success, but--well, for his own sake.'

      He spoke lazily, dreamily, propped upon his elbow, seeming to watch the sheep which panted at a few yards from him.

      'I have no right,' he pursued, with a shadow of kindly anxiety on his features, 'to offer you advice, but--well, if you will let me insist on what I have learned from my own experience. There's nothing like having a special line of work and sticking to it vigorously. I, unfortunately, shall never do anything of any account,--but I know so well the conflict between diverging tastes. It has played the deuce with me, in all sorts of ways. At Zurich I utterly wasted my time, and I've done no better since I came back to England. Don't think me presumptuous. I only mean--well, it is so important to--to go ahead in one line.'

      His air of laughing apology was very pleasant. Godwin felt his heart open to the kind fellow.

      'No one needs the advice more than I,' he replied. 'I am going back to the line I took naturally when I first began to study at all.'

      'But why leave Whitelaw?' asked Christian, gently.

      'Because I dislike it--I can't tell you why.'

      With ready tact Moxey led away from a subject which he saw was painful.

      'Of course there are many other places where one can study just as well.'

      'Do you know anything of the School of Mines in London?' Godwin inquired, abruptly.

      'I worked there myself for a short time.'

      'Then you could tell me about the--the fees, and so on?'

      Christian readily gave the desired information, and the listener mused over it.

      'Have you any friends in London?' Moxey asked, at length.

      'No. But I don't think that matters. I shall work all the harder.' 'Perhaps so,' said the other, with some hesitation. And he added thoughtfully, 'It depends on one's temperament. Doesn't answer to be too much alone--I speak for myself at all events. I know very few people in London--very few that I care anything about. That, in fact, is one reason why I am staying here longer than I intended.' He seemed to speak rather to himself than to Godwin; the half-smile on his lips expressed a wish to disclose circumstances and motives which were yet hardly a suitable topic in a dialogue such as this. 'I like the atmosphere of a--of a comfortable home. No doubt I should get on better--with things in general--if I had a home of my own. I live in lodgings, you know; my sister lives with friends. Of course one has a sense of freedom, but then'--

      His voice murmured off into silence, and again he beat the ground with his cane. Godwin was strongly interested in this broken revelation; he found it difficult to understand Moxey's yearning for domesticity, all his own impulses leading towards quite a contrary ideal. To him, life in London lodgings made rich promise; that indeed would be freedom, and full of all manner of high possibilities!

      Each communed with his thoughts. Happening to glance at Christian, Godwin was struck with the graceful attitude in which the young man reclined; he himself squatted awkwardly on the grass, unable to abandon himself in natural repose, even as he found it impossible to talk with the ease of unconsciousness. The contrast, too, between his garments, his boots, and those of the Londoner was painful enough to him. Without being a dandy, Christian, it was evident, gave a good deal of thought to costume. That kind of thing had always excited Godwin's contempt, but now he confessed himself envious; doubtless, to be well dressed was a great step towards the finished ease of what is called a gentlemanly demeanour, which he knew he was very far from having attained.

      'Well,' exclaimed Christian, unexpectedly, 'if I can be of ever so little use to you, pray let me. I must get back to town in a few days, but you know my address. Write to me, I beg, if you wish for any more information.'

      The talk turned to less difficult topics. Godwin made inquiries about Zurich, then about Switzerland in general.

      'Did you see much of the Alps?'

      'Not as a climber sees them. That sort of thing isn't in my way; I haven't the energy--more's the pity. Would you like to see a lot of good photographs I brought back? I have them here; brought them to show the girls.'

      In spite of the five Miss Moxeys and Christian's sister, Peak accepted the invitation to walk back with his companion, and presently they began to stroll towards Twybridge.

      'I have an absurd tendency to dream--to lose myself amid ideals--I don't quite know how to express it,' Christian resumed, when both had been silent for some minutes. 'That's why I mean to go in earnestly for science--as a corrective. Fortunately, I have to work for my living; otherwise, I should moon my life away--no doubt. My sister has ten times as much energy--she knows much more than I do already. What a splendid thing it is to be of an independent character! I had rather be a self-reliant coal-heaver than a millionaire of uncertain will. My uncle--there's a man who knows his own mind. I respect those strong practical natures. Don't be misled by ideals. Make the most of your circumstances. Don't aim at--but I beg your pardon; I don't know what right I have to lecture you in this way.' And he broke off with his pleasant, kind-hearted laugh, colouring a little.

      They reached Mr. Moxey's house. In a garden chair on the lawn sat Miss Janet, occupied with a book. She rose to meet them, shook hands with Godwin, and said to her cousin:

      'The postman has just left a letter for you--forwarded from London.'

      'Indeed? I'm going to show Mr. Peak my Swiss photographs. You wouldn't care to come and help me in the toil of turning them over?'

      'O lazy man!'

      Her laugh was joyous. Any one less prejudiced than Peak would have recognised the beauty which transformed her homely features as she met Christian's look.

      On the hall table lay the letter of which Janet had spoken. Christian took it up, and Godwin, happening at that moment to observe him, caught the tremor of a sudden emotion on lip and eyelid. Instantly, prompted by he knew not what perception, he turned his gaze to Janet, and in time to see that she also was aware of her cousin's strong interest in the letter, which was at once put away in Christian's pocket.

      They passed into the sitting-room, where a large portfolio stood against the back of a chair. The half-hour which ensued was to Godwin a time of uneasiness. His pleasure in the photographs suffered disturbance from a subtle stress on his nerves, due to something indeterminable in the situation, of which he formed a part. Janet's merry humour seemed to be subdued. Christian was obviously forcing himself to entertain the guest whilst his thoughts were elsewhere. As soon as possible, Godwin rose to depart. He was just saying good-bye to Janet, when Marcella entered the room. She stood still, and Christian said, hurriedly:

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