er what the
underlying reason might be, or how much she might disagree with it, if
only the reason were explained to her once and for all.

It was the one thing that Rigden would not explain.

He entreated her to trust him. His voice broke and the words failed him.
But on the crucial point he was firm. And so was she.

"You said you were unreasonable and exacting," he groaned. "I didn't
believe it. Now I see that it is true."

"But this is neither one nor the other," cried Moya. "Goodness! If I
were never to exact more than your confidence! It's my right. If you
refuse----"

"I do refuse it, in this instance, Moya."

"Then here's your ring!"

There was a wrench, a glitter, and something fell hot into his palm.

"I only hope you will think better of this," he said.

"Never!"

"I own that in many ways I have been quite in the wrong----"

"In every way!"

"There you are unreasonable again. I can't help it. I am doing what I
honestly believe----"

His voice died away, for a whip was cracking in the darkness, with the
muffled beat of unshod hoofs in the heavy sand. They sat together
without a word, each waiting for the other to rise first; and thus
Theodore found them, though Moya's dress was all he could descry at
first.

"That you, Moya? Well, what price the bush? I've been shooting turkeys;
they call it sport; but give me crows to-morrow! What, you there too,
Rigden? Rum coincidence! Sorry I didn't see you sooner, old chap; but
I'm not going to retract about the turkeys."

He disappeared in the direction of the barracks, and Moya held out her
hand.

"Lend me that ring," she said. "There's no reason why we should give
ourselves away to-night."

"I think the sooner the better," said Rigden.

But he returned the ring.

IV

BETHUNE OF THE HALL

Theodore Bethune was a young man of means, with the brains to add to
them, and the energy to use his brains. As the eldest of his family he
had inherited a special legacy in boyhood; had immediately taken himself
away from the Church of England Grammar School, and booked his passage
to London by an early boat. On the voyage he read the classics in his
deck chair, asked copious questions in the smoking-room, and finally
decided upon Cambridge as the theatre of his academical exploits.

Jesus was at that time the College most favoured by Australasian youth:
this was quite enough for Theodore Bethune. He ultimately selected
Trinity Hall, as appearing