"Well, I hardly know, but I spoke to Mr. Armstrong first; he invited me to dinner, and made me believe it was all right, and the next morning came a letter from him, advising me to wait a few months, and then write to Miss Armstrong. Oh, I say, old fellow, writing that letter was the worst bother, and no mistake. I declare I'd rather face the enemy on the field of battle than write another." "Of course the young lady answered you?" "Oh, yes; but I almost wish she hadn't, for her letter made me more wretched than ever; I knew it was all over then. It is a kind letter, though, and she tells me how sorry she is, and all that. You may read it if you like, if only to show you how clever she is." And as he spoke he took the letter from his pocket-book. Horace Wilton would have refused to avail himself of similar confidence from most of his young men acquaintances, but Reginald Fraser was associated with many of his youthful memories, and he could not grieve him by refusing. He therefore held out his hand for the letter which had caused Mary Armstrong so much pain to write, as well as tears of regret. The character of the young girl with whom he had associated during that week at Oxford three years before presented itself clearly to his mind as he read--kind and regretful was the tone; yet the refusal, though couched in gentle and courteous words, was too plainly expressed and too decisive to admit of future change. "Well," said Horace, as he folded the letter and returned it to its owner, "nothing can more completely destroy all hope of winning Miss Armstrong than this letter, kindly as it is written. But, Reginald, take my advice--do not grieve over what is inevitable. You are still young, and the change you contemplate to a foreign land may eradicate a little of that _mauvaise honte_ which places you at such a disadvantage in society, in spite of your wealth and position. But come," he added, rising from the seat they had occupied in Christ Church meadows, and looking at his watch, "we had better wend our way homewards, it is nearly five o'clock." For some little distance the gentlemen were silent. Reginald spoke first. "Wilton, I'm so glad I've told you all; I feel more easy on the subject already, and I hope, as you say, that going abroad will drive the nervousness out of me. But please don't ask me to stay; I'm awfully afraid of meeting any one acquainted with Miss Armstrong, for if her name should be mentioned I am certain to betray myself." "You shall go to-morrow or the next day, if you wish, but on condition that you neither think nor speak of the subject again while you stay with me. When you were a little frightened boy at Eton, Reggie, you always did as I bid you!" "Ah! yes, no wonder," he replied. "I have not forgotten the great boy who pretended to make me his fag because the other fellows shouldn't ill-use me. You were my best friend then, Wilton, and so you are now, and I mean to take your advice."