William ceased to growl, for far down the road he had heard a footstep that he knew. He still strained at his collar, but it was in a direction that led away from Mr. Walter Brooke. Meg let go and William swung off down the road. "Shall we all have a lide in loo ghalli?" little Fay asked--it seemed to her sheer waste of time to stand arguing in the road when a good car was waiting empty. The children called every form of conveyance a "gharri." "We shall meet again," said this persistent man. "You can't put me off like this." He raised his voice, for he was angry, and its clear tones carried far down the quiet road. "There's Captain Middleton with William," Tony said suddenly. "Perhaps _he_ has some money." Meg paled and crimsoned, and with hands that trembled started to push the pram at a great pace. The man went back to his car, and Tony, regardless of Meg's call to him, ran to meet William and Miles. The back wheels of the car had sunk deeply into the soft wet turf. It refused to budge. Miles came up. He was long-sighted, and he had seen very well who it was that was talking to Meg in the road. He had also heard Mr. Brooke's last remark. Till lately he had only known Walter Brooke enough to dislike him vaguely. Since his interview with Mrs. Trent this feeling had intensified to such an extent as surprised himself. At the present moment he was seething with rage, but all the same he went and helped to get the car up the bank, jacking it up, and setting his great shoulders against it to start it again. All this Tony watched with deepest interest, and Meg waited, fuming, a little way down the road, for she knew it was hopeless to get Tony to come till the car had once started. Once on the hard road again, it bowled swiftly away and to her immense relief passed her without stopping. She saw that Miles was bringing Tony, and started on again with little Fay. Fury was in her heart at Tony's disobedience, and behind it all a dull ache that Miles should have heard, and doubtless misunderstood, Walter Brooke's last remark. Tony was talking eagerly as he followed, but she was too upset to listen till suddenly she heard Miles say in a tone of the deepest satisfaction, "Good old William." This was too much. She stopped and called over her shoulder: "He isn't good at all; he's a thoroughly tiresome, disobedient, badly-trained dog." They came up with her at that, and William rolled over on his back, for he knew those tones portended further punishment. "He's an ass in lots of ways," Miles allowed, "but he is an excellent judge of character." And as if in proof of this William righted himself and came cringing to Meg to try and lick the hand that a few minutes ago had thumped him so vigorously. Meg looked up at Miles and he looked down at her, and his gaze was pained, kind and grave. _His_ eyes were large and well-opened and set wide apart in his broad face. Honest, trustworthy eyes they were.