downs. There--"

Mr. Taynton got up and came toward him.

"My dear fellow," he said, "I have walked out from Brighton on this
divine afternoon, and was going to take the train back. But will you give
me the pleasure of driving back with you instead?"

Morris looked at him a moment as if he hardly thought he was real.

"Why, of course," he said.

Mr. Taynton was all beams and smiles.

"And you have seen Mills?" he asked. "You have been convinced that he
was innocent of the terrible suspicion? Morris, my dear boy, what is
the matter?"

Morris had looked at him for a moment with incredulous eyes. Then he had
sat down and covered his face with his hands.

"It's nothing," he said at length. "I felt rather faint. I shall be
better in a minute. Of course I'll drive you back."

He sat huddled up with hidden face for a moment or two. Mr. Taynton said
nothing, but only looked at him. Then the boy sat up.

"I'm all right," he said, "it was just a dream I had last night. No, I
have not seen Mills; they tell me he left yesterday afternoon for
Brighton. Shall we go?"

For some little distance they went in silence; then it seemed that Morris
made an effort and spoke.

"Really, I got what they call 'quite a turn' just now," he said. "I had a
curiously vivid dream last night about that corner, and you suddenly
appeared in my dream quite unexpectedly, as you did just now."

"And what was this dream?" asked Mr. Taynton, turning up his coat collar,
for the wind of their movement blew rather shrilly on to his neck.

"Oh, nothing particular," said Morris carelessly, "the vividness was
concerned with your appearance; that was what startled me."

Then he fell back into the train of thought that had occupied him all the
way down from London.

"I believe I was half-mad with rage last night," he said at length, "but
this afternoon, I think I am beginning to be sane again. It's true Mills
tried to injure me, but he didn't succeed. And as you said last night I
have too deep and intense a cause of happiness to give my thoughts and
energies to anything so futile as hatred or the desire for revenge. He is
punished already. The fact of his having tried to injure me like that was
his punishment. Anyhow, I am sick and tired of my anger."

The lawyer did not speak for a moment, and when he did his voice was
trembling.

"God bless you, my dear boy," he said gently.

Morris devoted himself for some little time to the guiding of the