skin was dark with constant shaving, and there were new lines in his
face. This was a man indeed. The boy had disappeared for ever.

"I don't think I should advertise my loneliness even to Gerard," he said
slowly. Then, leaning forward and opening a drawer in the dressing-
table, "How is Cynthia?" he queried abruptly.

"Better!" replied Betty, so quietly that no one would have guessed the
leap of excitement which her heart had given at the sound of her
friend's name uttered in this connection. "Very delicate still, but
certainly better. They live entirely in the country for her sake, and
the doctors think that in a year or two she will probably be quite well
again. Meantime she is treated like an invalid, and we can seldom meet.
It isn't good for her to chatter, and it isn't supposed to be good for
my health to be there. I _ache_ for her, Miles! No one will ever know
what it has meant for me to be separated like this."

Miles sat silently staring at his stockinged feet. His eyes were
hidden, the heavy moustache covered the lines of his mouth, yet as Betty
looked at him she felt a stab of reproach, as if, while pitying herself,
she had inadvertently probed a deeper wound. Had Miles also ached for
Cynthia? Had the separation from her been the hardest part of his long
exile? She longed to question him on the subject, but the stern, set
face gave no encouragement to curiosity, however affectionate.

"We are to go down to see her some day soon. She was almost as much
excited about your coming home as we were ourselves, and we can run down
to Franton and back quite easily in the day. You won't be occupied with
business every day while you are at home, will you, Miles? You will be
able to give up some of your time to us?"

"Oh dear, yes. This is by way of being a holiday, and I mean to take
you girls about, and the mater too, if she will come. We must see the
mining business in train first, and then we'll go off somewhere and have
a good time. I haven't worked for nothing all these years, and the best
chance of enjoying myself is to see your enjoyment. Things don't always
work out as we expect--but we must make the best of what remains--"

He sighed, and rose from his chair with a gesture which somehow made
Betty conscious that he wished to be alone. It had been a very short
chat, and the impression left was rather sad than cheerful. She put her
arms round Miles' neck, kissed him fervently, but in sil