“I’m catching the eleven-forty,” replied Malcolm. “Are you goin’ down wi’ th’ trap, Joe?” “Yes, I’ve told you I’m going down wi’ th’ trap, haven’t I?” “We’d better be getting her in then.—So long, Jack, if I don’t see you before I go,” said Malcolm, shaking hands. He went out, followed by Joe, who seemed to have his tail between his legs. “Well, this is the devil’s own,” exclaimed the doctor, when he was left alone with Fred Henry. “Going before Wednesday, are you?” “That’s the orders,” replied the other. “Where, to Northampton?” “That’s it.” “The devil!” exclaimed Fergusson, with quiet chagrin. And there was silence between the two. “All settled up, are you?” asked Fergusson. “About.” There was another pause. “Well, I shall miss yer, Freddy, boy,” said the young doctor. “And I shall miss thee, Jack,” returned the other. “Miss you like hell,” mused the doctor. Fred Henry turned aside. There was nothing to say. Mabel came in again, to finish clearing the table. “What are _you_ going to do, then, Miss Pervin?” asked Fergusson. “Going to your sister’s, are you?” Mabel looked at him with her steady, dangerous eyes, that always made him uncomfortable, unsettling his superficial ease. “No,” she said. “Well, what in the name of fortune _are_ you going to do? Say what you mean to do,” cried Fred Henry, with futile intensity. But she only averted her head, and continued her work. She folded the white table-cloth, and put on the chenille cloth. “The sulkiest bitch that ever trod!” muttered her brother. But she finished her task with perfectly impassive face, the young doctor watching her interestedly all the while. Then she went out. Fred Henry stared after her, clenching his lips, his blue eyes fixing in sharp antagonism, as he made a grimace of sour exasperation. “You could bray her into bits, and that’s all you’d get out of her,” he said, in a small, narrowed tone. The doctor smiled faintly. “What’s she _going_ to do, then?” he asked. “Strike me if I know!” returned the other. There was a pause. Then the doctor stirred. “I’ll be seeing you tonight, shall I?” he said to his friend. “Ay—where’s it to be? Are we going over to Jessdale?” “I don’t know. I’ve got such a cold on me. I’ll come round to the Moon and Stars, anyway.” “Let Lizzie and May miss their night for once, eh?” “That’s it—if I feel as I do now.” “All’s one—” The two young men went through the passage and down to the back door together. The house was large, but it was servantless now, and desolate. At the back was a small bricked house-yard, and beyond that a big square, gravelled fine and red, and having stables on two sides. Sloping, dank, winter-dark fields stretched away on the open sides.