Then she added that she had brought an invitation from the Aunts La
Sarthe that Mr. Carlyon's guest should accompany him when he dined with
them on the Saturday. It had become the custom for him to partake of
this repast on the same occasions that Mr. Miller did--once a month.

John Derringham frowned under his straw hat which he had pulled over his
eyes. He had not come into the country to be dragged out to bucolic
dinner parties. But upon some points he knew his old master was obdurate
and from his firm acceptance of the invitation this appeared to be one
of them.

Then Halcyone asked politely if he would have a second cup of tea, but
he refused and again addressed Cheiron, ignoring her. Their conversation
now ran into philosophical questions, some of them out of her depth, but
much of the subject interested her deeply and she listened absorbed.

At last there was a pause and her fresh young voice asked:

"What, then, is the aim of philosophy--is it only words, or does it
bring any good?"

And both men looked at her, staggered for a moment, and John Derringham
burst into a ringing laugh.

"Upon my word, I don't know," he said. "It was invented so that the
Master here and I should pull each other's theories to pieces; that
evidently was its aim from the beginning of time. I do not know if it
has any other good."

"Everything is so very simple," said Halcyone. "To have to argue about