rent language once more, he had demanded why Frank had done this.

"Because it's the true religion," said Frank. "Are you coming to mass or
are you not?"

Jack had gone then, and had come away more bewildered than ever as to
what it was all about. He had attempted to make a few inquiries, but
Frank had waved his hands at him, and repeated that obviously the
Catholic religion was the true one, and that he couldn't be bothered.
And now here they were at tea in Jesus Lane for the last time.

* * * * *

Of course, there was a little suppressed excitement about Frank. He
drank three cups of tea and took the last (and the under) piece of
buttered bun without apologies, and he talked a good deal, rather fast.
It seemed that he had really no particular plans as to what he was going
to do after he had walked out of Cambridge with his carpet-bag early
next morning. He just meant, he said, to go along and see what happened.
He had had a belt made, which pleased him exceedingly, into which his
money could be put (it lay on the table between them during tea), and he
proposed, naturally, to spend as little of that money as possible....
No; he would not take one penny piece from Jack; it would be simply
scandalous if he--a public-school boy and an University man--couldn't
keep body and soul together by his own labor. There would be hay-making
presently, he supposed, and fruit-picking, and small jobs on farms. He
would just go along and see what happened. Besides there were always
casual wards, weren't there? if the worst came to the worst; and he'd
meet other men, he supposed, who'd put him in the way of things. Oh!
he'd get on all right.

Would he ever come to Barham? Well, if it came in the day's work he
would. Yes: certainly he'd be most obliged if his letters might be sent
there, and he could write for them when he wanted, or even call for
them, if, as he said, it came in the day's work.

What was he going to do in the winter? He hadn't the slightest idea. He
supposed, what other people did in the winter. Perhaps he'd have got a
place by then--gamekeeper, perhaps--he'd like to be a gamekeeper.

At this Jack, mentally, threw up the sponge.

"You really mean to go on at this rotten idea of yours?"

Frank opened his eyes wide.

"Why, of course. Good Lord! did you think I was bluffing?"

"But ... but it's perfectly mad. Why on earth don't you get a proper
situation somewhere--land-agent or so