utile,--such a crying waste."

"If anyone can do it, you can," said Piers.

"Ah! I wonder. It won't be easy, but I know their temptations so awfully
well. I've seen scores go under, I've been under myself. And that makes a
lot of difference."

"Life is infernally difficult for most of us," said Piers.

They rode in silence for awhile, and then he changed the subject.

It was not till they returned that Crowther announced his intention of
leaving on the following day.

"I've no time for slacking," he said. "I didn't come Home to slack. And
there's the mother waiting for me."

"Oh, man," Piers said suddenly, "how I wish I had a mother!"

And then half-ashamed, he turned and went in search of his grandfather.

Again that evening Crowther accepted Sir Beverley's invitation to dine at
their table. The old man seemed to regard Piers' friend with a kind of
suspicious interest. He asked few questions but he watched him narrowly.

"If you and the boy want to go to the Casino again, don't mind me!" he
said, at the end of dinner.

"We don't, sir," said Piers promptly. "Can't we sit out on the terrace
all together and smoke?"

"I don't go beyond the lounge," said Sir Beverley, with decision.

"All right, we'll sit in the lounge," said Piers.

His grandfather frowned at him. "Don't be a fool, Piers! Can't you see
you're not wanted?" He thrust out an abrupt hand to Crowther. "Good-night
to you! I shall probably retire before you come in."

"He is leaving first thing in the morning," said Piers.

Sir Beverley's frown was transferred to Crowther. He looked at him
piercingly. "Leaving, are you? Going to England, eh? I suppose we shall
meet again then?"

"I hope so," said Crowther.

Sir Beverley grunted. "Do you? Well, we shan't be moving yet. But--if
you care to look us up at Rodding Abbey when we do get back--you can;
eh, Piers?"

"I tell him, he must, sir," said Piers.

"You are very kind," said Crowther. "Good-bye sir! And thank you!"

He and Piers went out together, and walked to and fro in the garden above
the sea. The orchestra played fitfully in the hotel behind them, and now
and then there came the sounds of careless voices and wandering feet.
They themselves talked but little. Piers was in a dreamy mood, and his
companion was plainly deep in thought.

He spoke at length out of a long silence. "Did your grandfather say
Rodding Abbey just now?"

"Yes," said Piers, waking up.

"It's near a place calle