"I think I will," said Howard, "and I have another reason why I
should like to go. You know Jack Sandys, your cousin, now my pupil.
He is rather a fascinating youth. His father is parson there, isn't
he?"

"Yes," said Monica; "there are two hamlets, Windlow and Windlow
Malzoy, both in the same parish. The church and vicarage are at
Malzoy; but Frank is rather a terror--my word, how that man talks!
But I like Jack, though I have only seen him half a dozen times--
that reminds me that I must have him to dinner or something--and I
like his sister even better. But I am afraid that Jack may turn out
a bore too--he is rather charming at present, because he says
whatever comes into his head; and it's all quite fresh; but that is
what poor Cousin Frank does--only it's not at all fresh! However,
there's nothing like living with a bore to teach one the merits of
holding one's tongue. Poor old Frank! I thought he would be the
death of us all one evening at Windlow. He simply couldn't stop,
and he had a pathetic look in his eye, as if he was saying, 'Can't
anyone assist me to hold my tongue?'"

Howard laughed and got up. "Well," he said, "I'll take your advice.
I don't know anyone like you, Monnie, for making up one's mind. You
crystallise things. I shall like to see Aunt Anne, and I shall like
to see Jack at home; and meanwhile will you think the matter over,
and give me a lead? I don't want to leave Cambridge at all, but I
would rather do that than go sour, as some people do!"

"Yes," said Monica, "when you get beneath the surface, Cambridge is
rather a sad place. There are a good many disappointed men here--