side of the wall across which some men can step. And he did take a
roundabout way. It is my opinion, for instance, that he wrote his book
in order to make a beginning with the ladies.

That as it may be, at all events he is on the right side of the wall
now, and here is even Grizel looking wistfully at him. Had she admired
him for something he was not (and a good many of them did that) he
would have been ill satisfied. He wanted her to think him splendid
because he was splendid, and the more he reflected the more clearly
he saw that he had done a big thing. How many men would have had the
courage to wrick their foot as he had done? (He shivered when he
thought of it.) And even of these Spartans how many would have let the
reward slip through their fingers rather than wound the feelings of a
girl? These had not been his thoughts when he made confession; he had
spoken on an impulse; but now that he could step out and have a look
at himself, he saw that this made it a still bigger thing. He was
modestly pleased that he had not only got Grizel's admiration, but
earned it, and he was very kind to her when next she came to see him.
No one could be more kind to them than he when they admired him. He
had the most grateful heart, had our Tommy.

When next she came to see him! That was while his ankle still nailed
him to the chair, a fortnight or so during which Tommy was at his
best, sending gracious messages by Elspeth to the many who called to
inquire, and writing hard at his new work, pad on knee, so like a
brave soul whom no unmerited misfortune could subdue that it would
have done you good merely to peep at him through the window. Grizel
came several times, and the three talked very ordinary things, mostly
reminiscences; she was as much a plain-spoken princess as ever, but
often he found her eyes fixed on him wistfully, and he knew what they