I'll write
myself this evening, if you'll give me his address, and explain--"

"I can't do that," said Jack. "I'm awfully sorry, but--"

"You can't give me his address?"

"No, I'm afraid I mustn't. You see, Frank's very particular in his
letter...."

"Then how can I write to him? Mr. Kirkby, you're really rather--"

"By George! I've got it!" cried Jack. "If you don't mind my waiting at
the Rectory. Why shouldn't you write to him now, and let me take the
letter away and post it? It'll go all the quicker, too, from Barham."

He glanced at her, wondering whether she were displeased. Her answer
reassured him.

"That'll do perfectly," she said, "if you're sure you don't mind
waiting."

The Rectory garden seemed more than ever a harbor from storm as they
turned into it. The sun was a little lower now, and the whole lawn lay
in shadow. As they came to the door she stopped.

"I think I'd better go and get it over," she said. "I can tell father
all about it after you've gone. Will you go now and wait there?" She
nodded towards the seat where they had sat together earlier.

* * * * *

But it was nearly an hour before she came out again, and a neat maid, in
apron and cap, had come discreetly out with the tea-things, set them
down and retired.

Jack had been thinking of a hundred things, which all centered round
one--Frank. He had had a real shock this morning. It had been
intolerable to think of Frank in prison, for even Jack could guess
something of what that meant to him; and the tone of the letter had been
so utterly unlike what he had been accustomed to from his friend. He
would have expected a bubbling torrent of remarks--wise and
foolish--full of personal descriptions and unkind little sketches. And,
indeed, there had come this sober narration of facts and requests....

But in all this there was one deep relief--that it should be a girl like
Jenny who was the heart of the situation. If she had been in the least
little bit disturbed, who could tell what it would mean to Frank? For
Frank, as he knew perfectly well, had a very deep heart indeed, and had
enshrined Jenny in the middle of it. Any wavering or hesitation on her
part would have meant misery to his friend. But now all was perfectly
right, he reflected; and really, after all, it did not matter very much
what Lord Talgarth said or did. Frank was a free agent; he was very
capable and very lovable; it couldn't possibly be lo