Evan had scarcely shut his door before it was open again, but in that moment he had cast his cap, and he stood bareheaded against the dark background of his tiny den, in a frame of cropped ivy. It was an effective change, and an effective setting, in his case. His hair was not red, but it was a pale auburn, and peculiarly fine in quality. In a flash Jan remembered it in long curls, and somebody saying, “What a pity he’s not a girl!” And with this striking hair there had always been the peculiarly delicate and transparent skin which is part of the type; there had nearly always been laughing eyes, and a merry mouth; and here they all were in his study doorway, with hardly any difference that Jan could see, though he had dreaded all the difference in the world. And yet, the smile was not quite the old smile, and a flush came first; and Evan looked past Jan into the quad, before inviting him in; and even then he did not shake hands, as he had often done on getting home for the holidays, when Jan’s hand was not fit to shake. But he laughed quite merrily when the door was shut. And Jan, remembering that ready laugh of old, and how little had always served to ring a hearty peal, saw nothing forced or hurtful in it now, but joined in himself with a shamefaced chuckle. “It is funny, isn’t it?” he mumbled. “Me being here!” “I know!” said Evan, with laughing eyes fixed none the less curiously on Jan. “When did you get back?” inquired Jan, speedily embarrassed by the comic side. “Only just this afternoon. I went and had mumps at home.” “That was a bad job,” said Jan, solemnly. “It must have spoilt your holidays.” “It did, rather.” “You wouldn’t expect to find me here, I suppose?” “Never thought of it till I heard your name called over and saw it was you. I hear you’re in Bob’s house?” “In Mr. Heriot’s,” affirmed Jan, respectfully. “We don’t 'mister’ ’em behind their backs,” said Evan, in tears of laughter. “It’s awfully funny,” he explained, “but I’m awfully glad to see you.” “Thanks,” said Jan. “But it’s not such fun for me, you know.” “I should have thought you’d like it awfully,” remarked Evan, still looking the new Jan merrily up and down. “After the stables, I suppose you mean?” Evan was more than serious in a moment. “I wasn’t thinking of them,” he declared, with an indignant flush. “But I was!” cried Jan. “And I’d give something to be back in them, if you want to know!” “You won’t feel like that long,” said Evan, reassuringly. “Won’t I!” “Why should you?” “I never wanted to come here, for one thing.” “You’ll like it well enough, now you are here.” “I hate it!” “Only to begin with; lots of chaps do at first.” “I always shall. I never wanted to come here; it wasn’t my doing, I can tell you.”