h him on the box. It doesn't seem--the same man, does
it?"

Brooks smiled a little bitterly.

"The same man," he repeated. "No!"

They were silent for a few moments. Then Sybil turned towards him with
a little impetuous movement.

"Come," she said, "let us talk about yourself now. What are you going
to do?"

"To do?" he repeated, vaguely. "Why--"

"About your health, of course. You admitted a few minutes ago that you
had been to see your doctor."

"Why--I suppose I must ease up a little."

"Of course you must. When will you come and dine quietly with us in
Berkeley Square, and go to the theatre?"

He shook his head.

"It is kind of you," he said, "but--"

"When will you come and have tea with me, then?"

He set his teeth. He had done his best.

"Whenever you choose to ask me," he answered, with a sort of dogged
resignation.

She looked at him half curiously, half tenderly.

"You are so much changed," she murmured, "since those days at Enton.
You were a boy then, although you were a thoughtful one--now you are a
man, and when you speak like that, an old man. Come, I want the other
Mr. Brooks."

He sat quite still. Perhaps at that moment of detachment he realized
more keenly than ever the withering nature of this battle through which
he had passed. Indeed, he felt older. Those days at Enton lay very far
back, yet the girl by his side made him feel as though they had been but
yesterday. He glanced at her covertly. Gracious, fresh, and as
beautiful as the spring itself. What demon of mischief had possessed
her that she should, with all her army of admirers, her gay life, her
host of pleasures, still single him out in this way and bring back to
his memory days which he had told himself he had wholly forgotten? She
was not of the world of his adoption, she belonged to the things which
he had forsworn.

"The other Mr. Brooks," he murmured, "is dead. He has been burned in
the furnace of this last wonderful year. That is why I think--I fear it
is no use your looking for him--and you would not wish to have a
stranger to tea with you."

"That," she said, "is ingenious, but not convincing. So you will please
come to-morrow at four o'clock. I shall stay in for you.

"At four o'clock," he repeated, helplessly.

Lady Caroom waved to them from the path.

"Sybil, come here at once," she exclaimed, "and bring Mr. Brooks with
you. Dear me, what troublesome people you have been to find. I am very
glad indeed t