"She is not at her ease," Malcolm thought bitterly. "She seems afraid of me somehow; she will not meet my eyes, and she has scarcely spoken a dozen words to me." And he sighed, for it seemed the saddest thing to him that she should suffer, and that he should be powerless to help her; and in his fanciful way he said to himself, "We are like two travellers walking along stony paths with a high wall between us, so that no helping hand can be stretched out, and no voices of comfort can be heard." And then he added, "I dare not even tell her that I am sorry for her, and for him too." Malcolm was alone when he paid his visit to the White Cottage. There was no doubt that the change in David Carlyon shocked him greatly, though he strove to hide this from the invalid. David welcomed him with his old cordiality; but Malcolm, who was exceedingly nervous, could only stammer out a few commonplaces. The bright, eager young face that Elizabeth so loved was shrunken and wasted, the lips seemed drawn from the teeth, and yet at times the old cheery smile played round them; but the voice was weak and toneless, and every now and then the hard, dry cough seemed to rack him cruelly. "If you knew how sorry I am to see you like this," observed Malcolm kindly. "Well, I am rather a poor specimen just now," returned David with a feeble laugh; "but what can't be cured must be endured--eh, Herrick? I told Elizabeth" (here a shade came over Malcolm's face) "that I should like to shake hands with you. When a fellow is going a long journey"--and here David's hollow eyes grew a little sad and wistful--"it seems natural to bid one's friends good-bye. We did not know each other much, Herrick, but I always wanted to see more of you." "You are very good to say so"--but if his life had depended on it Malcolm could not have brought himself to say more at that moment. He wished himself a hundred miles away. A quaint, sweet smile flitted across David's face; he could read Malcolm's thoughts. "You have been such a good fellow, Herrick, and have done so much for them all. That was a bad business with Cedric, but at his age he will get over it--you and I know that." "We do indeed," returned Malcolm gravely. "Dinah comes and talks to me sometimes," went on David. "She says that if you had been their own brother you could not have done more; she is so grateful to you, Herrick." Perhaps he would have said more, but Malcolm checked him. "Never mind that, Carlyon; it was a great pleasure to me to do it. Now let us talk of something more interesting." And then for a short time they talked of Oxford and the boat-race; and then of Ventnor, which Malcolm knew well--he had even spent an evening at Red Brae when the Godfreys were staying there. "The house is charming," he said quite enthusiastically; "I know the rooms you will have, Carlyon, and they are delightful." David did not respond, and he was evidently getting tired, so Malcolm rose to take his leave.