“The light behind her, and the dark before,” said the old pastor to himself as he walked home wearily enough. “It is like her life, poor child. And yet I am somehow not much afraid for her. It is for Frithiof I am afraid.” CHAPTER IX. When Frithiof found that instead of addressing a stranger at Hyde Park Corner, he had actually spoken to Roy Boniface, his first feeling had been of mere blank astonishment. Then he vehemently wished himself alone once more, and cursed the fate which had first brought him into contact with the little child by the Serpentine, and which had now actually thrown him into the arms of a being who would talk and expect to be talked to. Yet this feeling also passed; for as he looked down the unfamiliar roads, and felt once more the desolateness of a foreigner in a strange country, he was obliged to own that it was pleasant to him to hear Roy’s well-known voice, and to feel that there was in London a being who took some sort of interest in his affairs. “I wish I had seen you a minute or two sooner; my mother and my sister were in that carriage,” said Roy, “and they would have liked to meet you. You must come and see us some day, or are you quite too busy to spare time for such an out-of-the-way place as Brixton?” “Thank you. My plans are very uncertain,” said Frithiof. “I shall probably only be over here for a few days.” “Have you come across the Morgans?” asked Roy, “or any of our other companions at Balholm?” In his heart he felt sure that the young Norwegian’s visit was connected with Blanche Morgan, for their mutual liking had been common property at Balholm, and even the semiengagement was shrewdly guessed at by many of the other tourists. Frithiof knew this, and the question was like a sword-thrust to him. Had it not been so nearly dark Roy could hardly have failed to notice his change of color and expression. But he had great self-control, and his voice was quite steady, though a little cold and monotonous in tone, as he replied: “I have just been to call on the Morgans, and have only just learned that their business relations with our firm are at an end. The connection is of so many years’ standing that I am afraid it will be a great blow to my father.” Roy began to see daylight, and perceived, what had first escaped his notice, that some great change had passed over his companion since they parted on the Sogne Fjord; very possibly the business relations might affect his hopes, and make the engagement no longer possible. “That was bad news to greet you,” he said with an uneasy consciousness that it was very difficult to know what to say. “Herr Falck would feel a change of that sort keenly, I should think. What induced them to make it?”