"Oh, I'm studying medicine," he replied, with a grimace. "It was always a whim of dad's to make a doctor of me; and I hate it. It isn't what I was cut out for somehow; it's beastly work. Besides, when I'd finished boyhood I thought I'd left books behind; and here I am grinding away at them harder than ever, and trying for examinations--and--and failing," he added ruefully. "Oh, Charlie!" The dark eyes regarded him not unkindly, but still with some reproach in their depths. And yet in a sense it was like Charlie to fail, and to laugh at the failure. "Yes, it's true," he went on. "There seem to be so many things to be done in London, outside the work--such a fine gay life to be lived; so many people calling me here or calling me there--jolly fellows everyone. No day is long enough for all that one can crowd into it; and then the next day comes, and the work hasn't been done. But I won't talk about that to-night; there's so much else that's pleasanter to talk about. What have you been doing, the pair of you, all this time? How have you been living?" "Our lives have been quiet ones," said Patience, a little stiffly. "I am living the life I hoped to live years ago; a life of comfort and of--of ease." Charlie glanced at the girl quickly; then back again to the old woman. "And Moira?" he asked, "what has Moira been doing?" "Living here--quietly," replied the girl, with a half smile at him. "And being a bit dull, I'll be bound," he exclaimed, getting up and looking about the room impatiently. "But to-night you shan't be dull; to-night you shall taste what London is; I'll look after you." Patience had risen swiftly to her feet; she seemed in that small room to set herself against the door, as though she would keep the girl back--as though she would keep out the roar of the great London that was calling to Moira. "She can't go!" she breathed, looking from one to the other of the eager faces. "Can't she? Why not?" demanded Charlie, with his bright laugh. "Do you think anyone will steal her? I'll look after her; we'll go and have a little quiet dinner somewhere, and then--well, then we'll see things afterwards." "She can't go," breathed Patience again, but in a feebler tone. "Leave her with me." "Don't be silly, Patience; I'll bring her back safely. Why, I know every inch of this London you're so much afraid of," he went on; "I've explored places that would make you shudder even to hear about. Moira, get ready; to-night you belong to me and to me only." Moira slipped out of the room, after hesitating for but a moment; then Patience faced the young man with a whispered question. "Where are you going to take her?" she demanded. "The Lord only knows!" exclaimed Charlie, with a laugh. "If you're so much afraid, why don't you come yourself? Put on your bonnet, Patience, and we'll make a night of it; and you shall wear your bonnet sideways by the time you come back, I'll warrant!"