gs you have to care for."

"From cocklight to the dim, Harry, there is always something needing my
care. Must house and farm and John and all our dumb fellow creatures go
to the mischief for pretty Lucy Lugur? My dear, I'm saying these things
to you, because nobody else has a right to say them; but oh, Harry, it
breaks my heart to say them!"

"Mother, forgive me. I did not think of anything but the fact that you
have always stood by me through thick and thin."

"In all things right, I will stand by you. In whatever is wrong I will
be against you. You have fallen into the net of bad company, and you
can't mend that trouble--you can only run away from it. Take John's
advice, and get out of the reach of that Naylor influence."

"I never saw anything wrong with Frank Naylor. He did not drink, he
never touched a card, and he was always respectful to the women we met."

"Harry, you would not dare to repeat to me all that Frank Naylor _said_
to you. Oh, my dear, there it is! When you can shut your _ears_, as
easily as your _eyes_, you can afford to be less particular about the
company you keep--not until."

At this moment John entered, and the conversation became general and
impersonal. But the influence of uncertain and unlooked-for anxiety was
over all, and Harry was eager to escape it. He said the young men would
be expecting him at their association hall, as he had promised to
explain to them the mysteries of golf, which he wished them to favor
above cricket.

He had, indeed, a promised obligation on this subject, but the exact
time was as yet within his own decision. Yet he was ready to fulfill it
that evening, rather than listen to the conversation about himself and
his future, which he knew would ensue whether he was present or not. And
the promise John had given him of a year's holiday was so satisfactory
that he longed to be alone and at liberty to follow it out and fit it
into his life.

He felt that John had been generous to him, but he also felt that the
proposed manner of rest and recreation was in one respect altogether
unsatisfactory--he was to be sent away from Lucy Lugur. He was sure that
was John's real and ultimate motive, whatever other motive was virtually
put in its place. Mother and brother would agree on that point and he
thought of this agreement with a discontent that rapidly became anger.
Then he determined to marry Lucy, and so have a right to her company on
land or sea, at home or abroad.