Mr. Don is looking so glum that the moment they are alone Dick has to cry warningly, 'Face!' He is probably looking glum himself, for he says candidly, 'Pretty awful things, these partings. Father, don't feel hurt though I dodge the good-bye business when I leave you.' 'That's so like you, Dick!' 'I'll have to go soon.' 'Oh, Dick! Can't you--' 'There's something I want not to miss, you see.' 'I'm glad of that.' 'I'm not going yet; but I mean that when I do I'll just slip away.' 'What I am afraid of is that you won't come back.' 'I will--honest Injun--if you keep bright.' 'But, if I do that, Dick, you might think I wasn't missing you so much.' 'We know better than that. You see, if you're bright, I'll get a good mark for it.' 'I'll be bright.' Dick pops him into the settle again. 'Remember your pipe.' 'Yes, Dick.' 'Do you still go to that swimming-bath, and do your dumb-bell exercises?' 'No, I--' 'You must.' 'All right, Dick, I will.' 'And I want you to be smarter next time. Your hair's awful.' 'I'll get it cut, Dick.' 'Are you hard at work over your picture of those three Graces?' 'No. I put that away. I'm just doing little things nowadays. I can't--' 'Look here, sonny, you've got to go on with it. You don't seem to know how interested I am in your future.' 'Very well, Dick; I'll bring it out again.' Mr. Don hesitates. 'Dick, there is something I have wanted to ask you all the time.' Some fear seems to come into the boy's voice. 'Don't ask it, father.' 'I shall go on worrying about it if I don't--but just as you like, Dick.' 'Go ahead, father; ask me.' 'It is this. Would you rather be--here--than there?' After a pause the boy says, 'Not always.' 'What is the great difference, Dick?' 'Well, down here one knows he has risks to run.' 'And you miss that?' 'It must be rather jolly.' 'Did you know that was what I was to ask?' 'Yes. But, remember, I'm young at it.' 'And your gaiety, Dick; is it all real, or only put on to help me?' 'It's--it's half and half, father.' 'Face!' he cries, next moment. Then cajolingly, 'Father, K.C.M.G.!' 'When will you come again, Dick?' 'There's no saying. One can't always get through. They keep changing the password.' His voice grows troubled. 'It's awfully difficult to get the password.' 'What was it to-night?' 'Love Bade Me Welcome.' Mr. Don rises; he stares at his son. 'How did you get it, Dick?' 'I'm not sure.' Dick seems to go closer to his father, as if for protection. 'There are lots of things I don't understand yet.' 'There are things I don't understand either. Dick, did you ever try to send messages--from there---to us?' 'Me? No.' 'Or get messages from us?' 'No. How could we?' 'Is there anything in it?' Mr. Don is not speaking to his son. He goes to the little table and looks long at it. Has it taken on a sinister aspect? Those chairs, are they guarding a secret? 'Dick, this table--your mother--how could they----' He turns, to find that Dick has gone.