William had made progress at Mr. Ashley's, and now earned thirty shillings a week. Frank and Gar had not left the college school. Frank's time was out, and more than out: but when a scholar advanced in the manner that Frank Halliburton had done, Mr. Keating was not in a hurry to intimate to him that his time had expired. So Frank remained on, studying hard, one of the most finished scholars Helstonleigh Collegiate School had ever turned out. There sat one great desire in Frank's heart; it had almost grown into a passion; it coloured his dreams by night and his thoughts by day--that of matriculating at one of the two Universities. The random and somewhat dim idea of Frank's early days--studying for the Bar--had become the fixed purpose of his life. That he was especially gifted with the tastes and qualifications necessary to make a good pleader, there could be no doubt about; therefore, Frank had probably not mistaken his vocation. Persevering in study, keen in perceptive intellect, equable in temper, fluent and persuasive in speech, a true type was he of an embryo barrister. He did not quite see his way yet to getting to college. Neither did Gar; and Gar had set _his_ mind upon the Church. One cold January evening, bright, clear, and frosty, Samuel Lynn stopped away from the manufactory. He had received a letter by the evening post saying that a friend, on his way from Birmingham to Bristol, would halt for a few hours at his house and go on by the Bristol mail, which passed through the city at eleven o'clock. The friend arrived punctually, was regaled with tea and other good things in the state parlour, and he and Samuel Lynn settled themselves to enjoy a pleasant evening together, Patience and Anna forming part of the company. Anna's luxuriant curls and her wondrous beauty--for, in growing up, that beauty had not belied the promise of her childhood--were shaded under the demure Quaker's cap. Something else had not belied the promise of her childhood, and that was her vanity. Apparently, she did not find the evening or the visitor to her taste. He was old, as were her father and Patience: every one above thirty Anna was apt to class as "old." She fidgeted, was restless, and, just as the clock struck seven--as if the sound rendered any further inaction unbearable--she rose and was quietly stealing from the room. "Where are thee going, Anna?" asked her father. Anna coloured, as if taken by surprise. "Friend Jane Halliburton promised to lend me a book, father: I should like to fetch it." "Sit thee still, child; thee dost not want to read to-night when friend Stanley is with us. Show him thy drawings. Meanwhile, I will get the chessmen. Thee'd like a game?" turning to his visitor. "Ay, I should," was the ready answer. "Remember, friend Lynn, I beat thee last time." "Maybe my skill will redeem itself to-night," nodded the Quaker, as he rose for the chessboard. "It shall try its best."