Then he went swiftly to meet that stumbling, laughing pair, and he spoke as gently as he had done to the poor wife.
"Mrs. Gray is sitting down in that summer-house," he said, "I think she wants you. Will you stay with her while I run to the house for something?"
The Bank Manager laughed foolishly.
"He! He! Reggie! Looking after the ladies, as usual! Bring some champagne, my lad, and we'll have a nice little spree on the quiet."
But Reggie had not waited for directions.
He walked swiftly towards the house, but he did not wish to appear hurried or to be on any secret errand, and as he went his thoughts flew hither and thither bewilderingly.
For this man was his master. This man whom he had been asked to help, had much of the making or marring of Reggie's prospects in his hand, and to interfere, especially in such a delicate matter, was almost certainly to incur more anger, more abiding, unredeemable displeasure, than for any other misdemeanour.
And yet, for four months Reggie had been praying for this very man!
Three years before, when Charlie Henchman had come to the engineering college in the town, he had sought out the loneliest fellow that he knew and for Christ's sake had endeavoured to cheer and uplift and help him by just being companionable to him. And the loneliest fellow that Charlie knew was Reggie Alston, and after they had been companions for quite a long time they found out that they both knew the Brougham family, a link which drew them to be more than companions,—to be friends.
Now Charlie was gone, and Reggie had promised him to seek out some lonely fellow too, and try to help him and cheer him and lead him nearer to Christ. He had prayed to be shown the right fellow, but among all his acquaintances there was no one lonely; one name, and one name only, seemed laid upon his heart, the name of Mr. Gray, his own Manager and master!