Laura showed an astonished glance. New sides of the lad seemed to be revealing themselves. She inquired after his music. But he declared he was too busy to think of it. By-and-by in the winter he would have lessons. There was a violin class at the Institute--perhaps he'd join that. Then abruptly, staring down upon her with his wide blue eyes-- "And how have you been getting on with the Squire?" He thought she started, but couldn't be quite sure. "Getting on with the Squire? Why, capitally! Whenever he's there to get on with." "What--he's been away?" he said eagerly. She raised her shoulders. "He's always away----" "Why, I thought they'd have made a Papist of you by now," he said. His laugh was rough, but his eyes held her with a curious insistence. "Think something more reasonable, please, next time! Now, where are we going to lunch?" "We've got it all ready. But we must see the yard first.... Miss Fountain--Laura--I've got that flower you gave me." His voice was suddenly hoarse. She glanced at him, lifting her eyebrows. "Very foolish of you, I'm sure.... Now do tell me, how did you get off so early?" He sulkily explained to her that work was unusually slack in his own yard; that, moreover, he had worked special overtime during the week in order to get an hour or two off this Saturday, and that Seaton was on night duty at a large engineering "works," and lord therefore of his days. But she paid small attention. She was occupied in looking at the new buildings and streets, the brand new squares and statues of Froswick. "How can people build and live in such ugly places?" she said at last, standing still that she might stare about her--"when there are such lovely things in the world; Cambridge, for instance--or--Bannisdale." The last word slipped out, dreamily, unaware. The lad's face flushed furiously. "I don't know what there is to see in Bannisdale," he said hotly. "It's a damp, dark, beastly hole of a place." "I prefer Bannisdale to this, thank you," said Laura, making a little face at the very ample bronze gentleman in a frock coat who was standing in the centre of a great new-built empty square, haranguing a phantom crowd. "Oh! how ugly it is to succeed--to have money!" Mason looked at her with a half-puzzled frown--a frown that of late had begun to tease his handsome forehead habitually. "What's the harm of having a bit of brass?" he said angrily. "And what's the beauty o' livin in an old ramshackle place, without a sixpence in your pocket, and a pride fit to bring you to the workhouse!" Laura's little mouth showed amusement, an amusement that stung. She lifted a little fan that hung at her girdle. "Is there any shade in Froswick?" she said, looking round her. Mason was silenced, and as Polly and Mr. Seaton joined them, he recovered his temper with a mighty effort and once more set himself to do the honours--the slighted honours--of his new home.