'Not in the least; you have every right to know. I am to have a hundred and twenty pounds a year—that is only thirty pounds less than I had at Rutherford. I never expected such good pay.'

'Ah! Unwin can afford it.'

'He seemed to say so. One thing—he thought I was older than I am. He seemed quite surprised when I told him I was only three-and-twenty.'

Michael looked up a little sharply. There was no denying that Cyril looked older—even these few days had worked some indefinable change in him. He was not ill, though he could not be said to be well; but there had come to him a certain settled look that one sees on the faces of middle-aged men who have a large amount of care. And there were dark circles round his eyes, as though sleep had to be wooed with some degree of difficulty.

'You are tolerably youthful still, Blake,' he said, not liking to admit that he saw this change in him.

'Am I? I should not have said so from my own feelings. I fancy youth is rather a relative term; but I must acknowledge that Mr. Unwin treated me with a great deal of consideration. I know what you have told him; but he scarcely alluded to it, except in the most distant way: indeed, I am very grateful to him for his delicacy.'

'I told you from the first that he was a good fellow. Unwin is what I call an all-round man. He is a bit fussy over his hobbies, but as long as you keep Charles the First out of your conversation I fancy it will be plain sailing. I hope you are not bursting with the subject, as the immortal Mr. Dick was, when he found himself compelled to fly his kites; but it is a fact that Unwin is a bit cranky about him.'

'Thank you for warning me,' returned Cyril, with a grave smile; 'now, my next business will be to look out for some lodgings within an easy distance of Cromwell Road. I have trespassed on your kind hospitality long enough.'

'Nonsense!' returned Michael bluntly. 'I expected you to stop on here for at least another month. I shall go back to Rutherford in a fortnight or so; but that would not make any difference to you: my old woman would be delighted to cook for you, and make you comfortable. You know, her husband was an old corporal in our regiment; but an amputated leg, and a little bit of money coming to his wife, made him fall out of the ranks. I have lodged with them for about ten years, and I have been in no hurry to change my quarters.'

'No—they are very comfortable; but the fact is, Burnett, my mother gives me no peace. She writes every day to beg me to take her away from Rutherford. She says she will never go outside the gate as long as she remains there. I imagine she has a nervous dread of meeting my father; besides, she says everyone will be talking about her.'