t seemed almost as if the old man had been trying
how far he could push his son, and had recoiled when he had learned the
effect of his pushing.

"I think he is frightened," said the lad gravely. "He had never thought
that I could be a priest."

Mrs. Manners considered this in silence.

"And it may be autumn before Dr. Allen's letter comes back?" she asked
presently.

Robin said that that was so.

"It may even be till winter," he said. "The talk among the priests, Mr.
Simpson tells me, is all about the removal from Douay. It may be made at
any time, and who knows where they will go?"

Mrs. Manners glanced across at her daughter, who sat motionless, with
her hands clasped. Then she was filled with the spirit of reasonableness
and sense: all this tragic to-do about what might never happen seemed to
her the height of folly.

"Nay, then," she burst out, "then nothing may happen after all. Dr.
Allen may say 'No;' the letter may never get to him. It may be that you
will forget all this in a month or two."

Robin turned his face slowly towards her, and she saw that she had
spoken at random. Again, too, it struck her attention that his manner
seemed a little changed. It was graver than that to which she was
accustomed.

"I shall not forget it," he said softly. "And Dr. Allen will get the
letter. Or, if not he, someone else."

There was silence again, but Mrs. Manners heard her daughter draw a long
breath.

III

It was an hour later that Marjorie found herself able to say that which
she knew must be said.

Robin had lingered on, talking of this and that, though he had said half
a dozen times that he must be getting homewards; and at last, when he
rose, Mistress Manners, who was still wholly misconceiving the
situation, after the manner of sensible middle-aged folk, archly and
tactfully took her leave and disappeared down towards the house,
advancing some domestic reason for her departure.

Robin sighed, and turned to the girl, who still sat quiet. But as he
turned she lifted her eyes to him swiftly.

"Good-bye, Mr. Robin," she said.

He pulled himself up.

"You understand, do you not?" she said. "You are to be a priest. You
must remember that always. You are a sort of student already."

She could see him pale a little; his lips tightened. For a moment he
said nothing; he was taken wholly aback.

"Then I am not to come here again?"

Marjorie stood up. She showed no sign of the fierce self-control she