road that the friends now walked, Mary setting a brisk
pace. "When once you've turned your back on the Avenue, it's heaps
better," she said. "Might be real country, looking this way, mightn't it?
Except the Naylors' place--Oh, and Tower Cottage--there are no houses
between this and Sprotsfield."

The wind blew shrewdly, with an occasional spatter of rain; the withered
bracken lay like a vast carpet of dull copper-color under the cloudy sky;
scattered fir-trees made fantastic shapes in the early gloom of a
December day. A somber scene, yet wanting only sunshine to make it flash
in a richness of color; even to-day its quiet and spaciousness, its
melancholy and monotony, seemed to bid a sympathetic and soothing welcome
to aching and fretted hearts.

"It really is rather nice out here," Cynthia admitted.

"I come almost every afternoon. Oh, I've plenty of time! My round in the
morning generally sees me through--except for emergencies, births and
deaths, and so on. You see, my predecessor, poor Christian Evans, never
had more than the leavings, and that's all I've got. I believe the real
doctor, the old-established one, Dr. Irechester, was angry at first with
Dr. Evans for coming; he didn't want a rival. But Christian was such a
meek, mild, simple little Welshman, not the least pushing or ambitious;
and very soon Dr. Irechester, who's quite well off, was glad to leave him
the dirty work, I mean (she explained, smiling) the cottages, and the
panel work, National Insurance, you know, and so on. Well, as you know, I
came down as _locum_ for Christian, he was a fellow-student of mine, and
when the dear little man was killed in France, Dr. Irechester himself
suggested that I should stay on. He was rather nice. He said, 'We all
started to laugh at you, at first, but we don't laugh now, anyhow, only
my wife does! So, if you stay on, I don't doubt we shall work very well
together, my dear colleague,' Wasn't that rather nice of him, Cynthia?"

"Yes, dear," said Cynthia, in a voice that sounded a good many
miles away.

Mary laughed. "I'm bound to be interested in you, but I suppose
you're not bound to be interested in me," she observed resignedly.
"All the same, I made a sensation at Inkston just at first. And they
were even more astonished when it turned out that I could dance and
play lawn tennis."

"That's a funny little place," said Cynthia, pointing to the left side
of the road.

"Tower Cottage, that's called."

"But wh