The self-denying little Altruist proved that no meetings were necessary to hold her to the accepted motto of her Society. Hardly a day passed without the appearance at Rowdon of her bright face and helpful hands. Jim’s heart grew lighter directly he heard “Miss Fane’s” voice. It was good to hear for its own sake, and then it meant the best of comradeship for Frances. The Society sent another delegate to do its work at the smithy. Max and Florry frequently travelled the three miles together, arguing as they went with a vivacity learned at the school “symposia”. They never convinced one another, but it was all the better to be able to look forward to a fresh bout of disagreeing next time. Sometimes they walked, sometimes they rode with a friendly farmer or begged a lift in the Doctor’s trap. Journey as they might, they always turned up smiling, contented, and in hot dispute. It was Max’s fair season at Woodend; the season when his many public concerns made least demand on him, and he was most free to remember private interests. His invalids were at their best; his poor folk were recovering from the effects of the burning heat in their stuffy rooms, and were still independent of warm clothing. Moreover, a wealthy valetudinarian had bought Elveley, and was demanding a daily visit from Dr. Brenton. Max ventured to anticipate the consequent fees, and on his own responsibility borrowed from the “Examinations” fund the wherewithal to present the dog-cart with a new rug and its owner with a new overcoat. Dr. Brenton retaliated by ordering for Max a trim Eton suit--challenging the chancellor of the exchequer to refuse to pay for it, and in so doing to ruin his father’s credit. Then the unconventional pair attired themselves festively, and beamed at each other in the joy of their reciprocal liberality. Max and Austin were always merry at the smithy, and they did their best to make Jim merry likewise. With fervent good-will they wielded the hammer, and smote the anvil, and practised horse-shoeing until their teacher pronounced them adepts. Sometimes they dragged Jim off to the common, where they had cut and rolled a decent pitch for their cricket. Jim could play, of course, but his science was behind theirs. It seemed to the boys a fair return for lessons in horse-shoeing when their hints, added to natural quickness of eye and hand, had made of Jim a most respectable bowler.