caught the eye of Philip, who was watching him with solicitous
attention. Maurice put his hand on the arm of his friend, and led him
away.

"Why did you look at me that way, Phil?" he asked. "Does it seem to you
that spiritual calm is the best thing in life?"

Ashe was silent a moment. Maurice noted that he looked thinner than of
old, and reproached himself that he had seen so little of his friend
during their absence from the Clergy House.

"I was thinking," Philip replied at length, hesitating and dropping his
voice, "that I feared both you and I had discovered that something more
than seclusion is needed to give it, however good it may be."

Maurice laid his hand on the back of Philip's, grasping it tightly.

"You too?" was his response.

They stood in silence for some moments, looking out of a window over
the dingy back yards which formed the prospect from the rear of the
house. Wynne was wondering how it was that for the first time in his
life it was impossible to be frankly confidential with Philip, and how
far it was probable that his friend would be in sympathy with him in
his trouble. He longed for counsel, and the force of old habit pressed
him to tell everything.

"Phil," he said, "will you go out with me for a walk this afternoon?"

"Of course," Ashe answered. "Don't we always go together?"