"In the school of—The Craggs. I shall be your very close neighbour. Mary McClure is not flitting away from you. Combes and his tender-hearted fellows should worry very considerably, I fancy."
"Mary, Mary!" was the elated cry. "I am sorry for you but riotously happy for myself."
She looked down upon him a moment with eyes brimmingly glad, then a shadow crept into them.
"I am spending this year with Mother and Dad," she said simply.
Looking earnestly at her he caught the shine of tears. Stifling the gay words leaping to his lips he rose and stepping to her drew her head to his breast.
"Mary," said he gently, "our work is planned for a year ahead. Home is the only place for us just now."
"We'll make it a great year, Ned," was the hopeful reply. "When I was a little girl, everything good for Mother and Dad was described as 'bestest.' This is to be the 'bestest' year for our loved ones that they have ever known. Can we make it so?"
"You are only a little girl yet," said Ned, kissing the face turned up to him. "And this is to be their 'bestest' year. We shall see to that. Now for my trouble, the thing that drove me out to find you. These last moments have made it deepen rather than vanish. On Thursday afternoon, a short time before I saw you, I had an adventure. Have you heard of it?"
"Not even a rumour, Ned. Mother and I are not as intimate with Pellawa life as we should be."
"I am glad you have not heard," said Ned earnestly. "There was an encounter in the pool-room. Your father was involved."