Jack smiled. "And Aunt Mabel, have you seen her lately?"
"Oh, yes! she's very well, and doesn't seem to alter at all. She often talks of you, and is always sad because you never write. Why have you never been to see her?"
"I have seen her once. I passed her in the street in Melchester; but I was in uniform, and she didn't notice me."
"But why didn't you go over to Brenlands?"
"Oh, I couldn't do that! I struck out a path for myself. It may be a bit rough, like the way of transgressors always is; but it suits me well enough. I've been in it now for three years, and mean to stick to it; but it'll never bring me to Brenlands again."
"Oh, yes, it will," answered the other cheerily, "At the end of the long lane comes the turning."
There was another pause; the conversation had been running more freely, but now Jack fell back again into his former manner.
"I beg pardon, sir, but I should like to ask if you'll be good enough not to mention my name in any of your letters home."
"Why not?"
"I should be glad, sir, if you wouldn't. I've managed hitherto to keep my secret."