And after a terrible conflict in his own mind, Godfrey gave up his own will and heart's desire, and came home to be the comfort and joy of his mother's life. His frank sunny nature did not alter; and though many of his college friends blamed him for having, as they said, "put his hand to the plough and looked back," Godfrey went on his way serenely, perhaps influencing more people by his personality as a landed proprietor than as a parson, for he had something in his heart and soul worth passing on, and was not ashamed to do it. But a few of his friends—and Adrienne was one of them—knew that the sacrifice of his soul's desire had been a heavy one. She had always admired his serenity and cheerfulness, as he had carried out the wishes and whims of a rather capricious mother. And now, as she met his gaze, the colour mounted into her cheeks. "You think me a selfish pig to talk or think about my own happiness. But I can't help it. I hate being unhappy. When I was a little girl I always did, and I remember saying to a governess who punished me for some impertinent remark to her: "'If I was wrong to speak rudely to you, you're much more wrong to make me miserable!' "Besides, I know your creed—it is that in making others happy, our own happiness comes. And that's what I'm doing. I know I make my uncles happy by living with them. We're all as jolly as we can be together. And they want me. They've always told me so. They paid for my schooling; my aunt never did. She was always a spoiled selfish wayward girl. Uncle Derrick told me so." Adrienne spoke eagerly, but there was a pleading tone in her voice. She added: "Oh, do tell me it wouldn't be right to leave the uncles!" Godfrey laughed. "I am not your Father Confessor. I wish I could advise you one way or the other, but it wouldn't be wise. You are old enough to judge for yourself. We must come to cross-ways in our journey when we have to decide which path is to be ours." "I hate cross-ways!" exclaimed Adrienne vehemently and childishly. "You have been in the sunshine so long, and you have so much of it in your heart," said Godfrey slowly, "that it does not follow you will lose it by going into the shade for a time. Isn't it possible that you could make the dark corner sunny?" "Now I know that you are on Aunt Cecily's side," said Adrienne; and tears were not far from her eyes as she spoke. They were now approaching the village, which lay covered in snow, and looked silent and deserted. As they came up to the little general shop next the post office, a girl came out of it. She was rather taller than Adrienne and had a fair freckled face, and reddish golden hair which was bobbed in the modern fashion. She was clad in a rough frieze coat and Russian boots reaching to her knees. A close green felt hat covered her head and ears. She waved her hand cheerily as Godfrey and Adrienne approached her.