At which Frank observed his friend give one of his peculiar smiles which might mean so little and might mean so much, but whatever it meant had that touch of bittersweet in it which at once hurts and attracts. "You like your profession?" Frank abruptly asked. Edgar turned, surveyed the other questioningly for a moment, then remarked: "Not as you like yours. Law seems to be a passion with you." Frank laughed. "Why not? I have no other love, why not give all my heart to that?" Edgar did not answer; he was looking straight before him at the lights in the village they were now rapidly approaching. "How strange it is we should have met in this way," exclaimed the young lawyer. "It is mighty fortunate for me, whatever it may be for you. You know all the people in town, and perhaps can tell me what will shorten my stay into hours." "Do you call that fortunate?" interrogated the other with one of his quiet smiles. "Well, no, only from a business view. But you see, Edgar, it is so short a time since I have thought of anything but business, that I have hardly got used to the situation. I should be sorry, now I come to think of it, to say good-by to you before I heard how you had enjoyed life since we parted on a certain Commencement day. You look older, while I----" He laughed. How merry the sound, and how the growing twilight seemed to brighten at it! Edgar looked for a moment as if he envied him that laugh, then he said: "You are not tripped up by petty obstacles. You have wings to your feet and soar above small disappointments. My soles cling to the ground and encounter there difficulty after difficulty. Hence the weariness with which I gain anything. But your business here,--what is it? You say I can aid you. How?" "Oh, it is a long story which will help to enliven our evening meal. Let us wait till then. At present I am interested in what I see before me. Snug homes, Edgar, and an exquisite landscape." The other, whose face for the last few minutes had been gradually settling into sterner and sterner lines, nodded automatically but did not look up from the horse he was driving. "Who lives in these houses? Old friends of yours?" Frank continued. Edgar nodded again, whipped his horse and for an instant allowed his eyes to wander up and down the road. "I used to know them all," he acknowledged, "but I suppose there have been changes." His tone had altered, his very frame had stiffened. Frank looked at him curiously. "You seem to be in a hurry," he remarked. "I enjoy this twilight drive, and--haloo! this is an odd old place we are coming to. Suppose you pull up and let me look at it."