question of recall. It happened also that within that short space a
considerable change had come over Vellacott. The subtle influence of a
country life, and possibly the low, peaceful song of the distant sea,
were already beginning to make themselves felt. He actually detected a
desire to sit still and do nothing--a feeling of which he had not
hitherto been conscious. He was distinctly averse to leaving St. Mary
Western just yet. But there is one task-master who knows no mercy and
makes no allowances. Some of us who serve him know it to our cost, and
yet we would be content to serve no other. That task-master is the
Public.

Vellacott was a public servant, and he knew his position.

Somewhat later in the morning Molly and Hilda found him still seated at
the table, writing with that concentrated rapidity which only comes with
practice.

"I am sorry," he said, looking up, "but I must send off a telegram. I
shall walk in to the station."

"I was just coming," said Hilda, "to ask if you would drive me in. I
want to get some things."

"And," added Molly, "there are some domestic commissions--butcher,
baker, &c."

Vellacott expressed his entire satisfaction with the arrangement, and by
the time he had finished his letter the dog-cart was waiting at the
door.