“Right you are,” said Anthony. “I’ll go ahead. The only thing that worries me is that you’re all of you making it so easy for me. It’s spoiling my character.” He looked up with a smile. Edward was sitting on a corner of his father’s desk swinging his legs. “You’ve been a ripping friend to me ever since you first spoke to me in Bull Lane, the day I fought young Penlove.” He spoke with an emotion unusual to him. Edward flushed. “There are only two people I really care for,” he said, “you and Betty. But it isn’t only of you I’m thinking. If I come into the business it’ll be jolly our being together. And if not----” He paused. “What do you mean?” asked Anthony. “You’re not thinking of chucking it? Your father’s reckoning on you. That’s why he’s never taken a partner; he told me so.” “Of course I shall come into it,” Edward answered, “bar accidents.” He was looking out of the window. Anthony followed his gaze, but the cold grey square was empty save for a couple of cabs that stood there on the rank. “But what could happen?” persisted Anthony. “Oh, nothing,” Edward answered. “It’s only another way of saying ‘_Deo volente_.’ It used to be added to all public proclamations once upon a time. We’re not as pious as we were.” He took up his hat and stick and held out his hand. “Don’t forget about the books,” he said. “They’re expensive to buy, and I’ve done with most of them.” Anthony thanked him and they shook hands. They never met again. CHAPTER IX It was just before Easter that Edward wrote his father and Betty that he had developed diabetes and was going for a few weeks to a nursing home at Malvern. The doctor hoped that with care he would soon be much better. In any case he should return to Oxford sometime during the summer term. He expected to be done with it by Christmas. To Anthony he wrote a different letter. The doctor had, of course, talked cheerfully; it was the business of a doctor to hold out hope; but he had the feeling himself that his chance was a poor one. He should return to Oxford, if the doctor did not absolutely forbid it, for Betty’s sake. He did not want to alarm her. And, of course, he might pull through. If not, his idea was that Anthony should push on with his studies at high speed and become as soon as possible a junior partner in the firm. It was evident from his letter that he and Betty were in agreement on this matter and that she was preparing the way with her father. Mr. Mowbray’s appetite for old port was increasing. He was paying less and less attention to the business. It would soon need some one to pull it together again.