rs. He seemed to be, all in a moment, in high spirits, and when
he saw Connie coming back through the garden gate, with a shy,
hesitating step, he sprang up eagerly to greet her. But there was
another figure behind her. It was Sorell; and at sight of him "something
sealed" the boy's lips. He looked round at Falloden, and dropped back
into his chair.

Falloden rose from his seat abruptly. A formal and scarcely perceptible
greeting passed between him and Sorell. All Falloden's irritable
self-consciousness rushed back upon him as he recognised the St. Cyprian
tutor. He was not going to stay and cry _peccavi_ any more in the
presence of a bloodless prig, for whom Oxford was the world. But it was
bitter to him all the same to leave him in possession of the garden and
Connie Bledlow's company.

"Thank you--I must go," he said brusquely, as Connie tried to detain
him. "There is so much to do nowadays. I shall be leaving Flood next
week. The agent will be in charge."

"Leaving--for good?" she asked, in her appealing voice, as they stood
apart.

"Probably--for good."

"I don't know how to say--how sorry I am!"

"Thank you. But I am glad it's over. When you get back to Oxford--I
shall venture to come and call."

"That's a promise," she said, smiling at him. "Where will you be?"

"Ask Otto Radowitz! Good-bye!"

Her start of surprise pleased him. He approached Radowitz. "Shall I hear
from you?" he said stiffly.

"Certainly!" The boy looked up. "I will write to-morrow."

* * * * *

The garden door had no sooner closed on Falloden than Radowitz threw
himself back, and went into a fit of laughter, curious, hollow laughter.

Sorell looked at him anxiously.

"What's the meaning of that, Otto?"

"You'll laugh, when you hear! Falloden and I are going to set up house
together, in the cottage on Boar's Hill. He's going to read--and I'm to
be allowed a piano, and a piano-player. Queer, isn't it?"

"My dear Otto!" cried Sorell, in dismay. "What on earth do you mean?"

"Well, he offered it--said he'd come and look after me. I don't know
what possessed him--nor me either. I didn't exactly accept, but I shall
accept. Why shouldn't I?"

"Because Falloden's the last person in the world to look after
anybody--least of all, you!" said Sorell with indignant energy. "But of
course it's a joke! You mean it for a joke. If he proposed it, it was
like his audacity. Nobody would, who had a shred of deli