"Gone?"

"We had a few words; he was wanting money again, and I gave him a piece
of my mind. I don't think we shall see him again."

"Poor Wilfred!" sighed Mrs. Benson. "He is always in trouble of some
sort. I hope that you were not too hard upon him."

"No more than he deserved," said her son, sternly. "Good night."


II.

The well, which had long ago fallen into disuse, was almost hidden by the
thick tangle of undergrowth which ran riot at that corner of the old
park. It was partly covered by the shrunken half of a lid, above which a
rusty windlass creaked in company with the music of the pines when the
wind blew strongly. The full light of the sun never reached it, and the
ground surrounding it was moist and green when other parts of the park
were gaping with the heat.

Two people walking slowly round the park in the fragrant stillness of a
summer evening strayed in the direction of the well.

"No use going through this wilderness, Olive," said Benson, pausing on
the outskirts of the pines and eyeing with some disfavour the gloom
beyond.

"Best part of the park," said the girl briskly; "you know it's my
favourite spot."