"What is to come we know not. But we know That what has been was good.... Let the great winds their worst and wildest blow, Or the gold weather round us mellow slow: We have fulfilled ourselves, and we can dare And we can conquer, though we may not share In the rich quiet of the afterglow What is to come." W. E. HENLEY. While Mr. Wycherly was still sitting over his port, Mrs. Dew brought him a note that had come by hand. He opened it, and found that it was from Miss Willows. Now, Mr. Wycherly knew very little of Miss Willows. She had, it is true, been to tea with Jane-Anne on two occasions, when the child had implored him to be present. Of course, Jane-Anne was dying to "show him" to Miss Willows. That lady felt his charm, but she doubted whether he was a very safe or suitable guardian for so unusual a girl. What she had seen that afternoon convinced her that her doubts were justified, and she felt that not a moment must be lost. It was necessary to awake in him a sense of his responsibilities, therefore she wrote: "DEAR MR. WYCHERLY, "I feel sure you will acquit me of any desire to be fussily interfering if I venture to ask whether it is with your knowledge and approval that Jane-Anne walks with undergraduates in the evening after tea. I hope you know me too well to imagine that any foolish prudery or even an exaggerated sense of the importance of Mrs. Grundy’s opinion causes me to bring the subject before you. It is only that while Jane-Anne is so young, while she is working so hard, it would be wiser, I think, to discourage intimate association with the other sex except under proper auspices. Pray do not mistake me. I should like Jane-Anne to have plenty of young male society but not to saunter about the roads _tête-à-tête_ with any one youth during term time. If you can see your way to oblige me in this I shall be grateful. "Very faithfully yours, "DOROTHY WILLOWS." Mr. Wycherly read the note twice very carefully, folded it, put it back in the envelope and, without waiting to finish his port, went for his hat. He crossed the road. Mr. Gordon, seated as usual at his open window with Gantry Bill in attendance, saw him coming, turned extremely red and went himself to open the door, without waiting for his visitor to knock. Jane-Anne, seated at her studies in the parlour, also saw Mr. Wycherly’s pilgrimage across the road, and was filled with satisfaction that her debt was to be so speedily discharged. "Are you Mr. Gordon?" Mr. Wycherly asked as the door was opened before he could knock. "I am; will you come in, sir?" Mr. Wycherly accepted the invitation and came in. The experience caused his heart to beat a little faster. It was so many years since he had been in an undergraduate’s room. The past came back with a rush. What a lot of water had flowed under Magdalen Bridge since those dear, far off, happy, and, afterwards, most miserable days.