once that he'd a lot rather have got it himself--so you can
everlastingly bank on him!"

Gerald gave a terrible little gasp. "I--I knew he'd feel like that," he
got out. "We've always cared such a lot for each other." And then he
pressed his face harder than ever into the grass, and his long body
quivered all over. But not for long. In a moment he took fierce hold on
himself, muttering, "Well, one must carry on, whatever happens," and
apologized disjointedly. "What a fearful fool you must think me!
And--and this isn't very pippy for you, old chap." Presently, after
that, he sat up, and said, brushing it all aside, "We're facing the old
moat, aren't we? There's an interesting bit of tradition about it that I
must tell you."

And there you were, Cary thought: no matter how much Gerald might be
suffering from his misfortune, he must carry on just the same, and see
that his visitor had a pleasant time. It made the Virginian feel like
an outsider and very young as if he were not old enough for them to show
him their real feelings.

Another thing that he noticed was that they did not seem to want him to
meet people. They never took him anywhere to call and if visitors came
to the house, they showed an almost panicky desire to get him out of the
way. That again hurt his pride. What in heaven's name was the matter
with him anyway!


III

However on the last afternoon of his stay at Bishopsthorpe, he told