It was the first afternoon of the Easter term, and from his position beside the window of his study Rouse was staring steadfastly towards the distant boundaries of Harley. Presently he turned and looked towards Terence, who sat buried to the chin in a basket chair, with his feet upon the mantelpiece. “I find myself to-day,” said he, “in a mood of the most blissful content. You, sir, can you tell me why that is?” “No,” said Terence. “Unless somebody has mended that hole in your trouser pocket for you during the holidays and your locker key doesn’t fall through into your sock any longer. That used to irritate you a good deal last term, I remember.” “That is not the correct answer,” responded Rouse. “And you will, moreover, be awarded one bad mark for your stupidity. If you are going to have another shot, I think you had better stand half-way, with the ladies and the little boys.” Terence turned away and snuggled deeper into the recesses of his chair. “It leaves me cold,” said he. “Then I will speak with more warmth,” snapped Rouse, “you poor frozen piece of fish. Let me tell you that you are what our American cousins would term a boob or bone-head. If you were to unhook your heels from my mantelpiece and come and balance yourself beside me for a minute, you would perhaps understand what I mean. Just now the Grey Man passed along the top road going towards Mainwright’s. When he had gone I found myself casting my eye around the old estate, and I may assure you, young Nicholson, the place did not seem the same.” “You were looking at it from a different angle,” explained Terence. “It’s that squint of yours. You never know _where_ you’re looking half the time.” A brief silence followed. At last Rouse came over to the fire and, standing beside Terence, placed his hands on his hips and began to explain. “The Grey Man has come back and the good sun is shining once more over the old homeside. That’s what I mean, you flat,” said he. “When I look back,” he added after a moment, “it seems to me that two things stand out from amongst the events of last term. Passing over those bad times when we heard that Toby was to go and that house footer was to stop, and such good times as the Rainhurst match, the two things that I always remember first are the moment when I first knew that I was not to be captain of Rugger, and the moment when I realised that Coles was giving me a licking.” “It is of some interest to me to know,” said Terence, “that you are actually able to think of two things at once. I was not previously aware that you could.” Rouse took no notice. “The fact that I am responsible for the dud year Harley has had at Rugger,” said he, “worried me a good deal until I had a chow-chow with your brother, and then I began to look forward to this term as I have never looked forward to any term before. Now I am really back again, and the Grey Man has returned. I tell you, Nick, my son, I feel good. In other words, I am chock full of beans.”