for the glow of the fire. They would be at
tea; probably his father would not be there--the present would be a
good time to choose. He pulled his courage together and went
downstairs.

As he had expected, Garrett was having tea with Clare in her own
room--the Castle of Intimacy, as Randal had once called it. Garrett
was reading; Clare was sitting by the fire, thinking.

"She will soon have more to think about," thought Robin wretchedly.

She looked up as he came in. "Ah, Robin, that's splendid! I was just
going to send up for you. Come and sit here and talk to me. I've
hardly seen you to-day."

She had been very affectionate during the last three days--rather too
affectionate, Robin thought. He liked her better when she was less
demonstrative.

"Where have you been all the afternoon?"

"In my room. I've been busy."

"Tea? You don't mind it strong, do you, because it's been here a good
long time? Gingerbread cake especially for you."

But gingerbread cake wasn't in the least attractive. Beddoes suited
him much better:--

Is that the wind dying? Oh no;
It's only two devils, that blow
Through a murderer's bones, to and fro,
In the ghost's moonshine.

"Do you know Beddoes, aunt?"

"No, dear. What kind of thing is it? Poetry?"

"Yes. You wouldn't like it, though----only I've been reading him this
afternoon. He suited my mood."

"Boys of your age shouldn't have moods." This from Garrett. "I never
had."

Robin took his tea without answering, and sat down on the opposite side
of the fire to his aunt. How was he to begin? What was he to say?
There followed an awful pause--life seemed to have been full of pauses
lately.

Clare was watching him anxiously. How had his father's outbreak
affected him? She was afraid, from little things that she had seen,
that he had been influenced. Harry had been so different those last
three days--she could not understand it. She watched him eagerly,
hungrily. Why was he not still the baby that she could take on her
knees and kiss and sentimentalise over? He, too, she fancied, had been
different during these last days.

"More tea, Robin? You'd better--it's a long while before dinner."

"No, thanks, aunt. I--that is--well, I've something I wanted to say."

He turned round in his chair and faced the fire. He would rather not
look at her whilst he was speaking. Garrett put down his book and
looked up. Was there going to be more wo