But to Nigel, this moment made up for all the long months of absence. He held her hand tightly for three seconds, how tightly he did not know; and the touch of those little fingers scattered to the winds all his previous resolutions. He stepped into the house. "Nigel himself! Yes, I found him outside the garden gate. Actually protesting that he had come for a look, and didn't mean to be seen. Here, Lance, my boy, help me off with this coat. That's it. Come, Nigel, come and be inspected. My dear, I've brought an old friend, but you'll hardly recognise him. Eh?" Mrs. Elvey, knitting slowly in an easy-chair, was a contrast to her sunny-tempered husband and daughter. Her face offered as good a specimen of the bony "long oval" as Ethel's of the shorter and more rounded type; and there was about it a somewhat unhappy look of self-pity and of discontented invalidism. No doubt she was not strong and often did suffer much. But no doubt also many in Mrs. Elvey's place would have been brighter, braver, less of a weight upon others' spirits, more ready to respond to others' interests. She welcomed Nigel kindly, but with the limp and listless air of one who really had so many trials of her own that she could not be expected to care much whom she did or did not see. "Hardly up to the mark to-day you see—tired-out, poor dear!" explained the Rector, himself a hard-worked and often weary man; but he was counted strong, and few gave him a word of sympathy on that score. He looked solicitously at his wife and then turned to the young man. "Come; I must see what has been the effect upon you of it all—Japan, Timbuctoo, and the rest! Eh, Ethel? Is he the better or the worse?" "Pollard thinks it a matter for congratulation that I have not become food for cannibals," laughed Nigel. He was standing on the rug—a young fellow of good height and muscular make, a wonderful development from the overgrown reedy youth who had gone away more than twelve months earlier. The sickly white complexion of those days had given place to a healthy tan; and the face was strong, bright, good-looking. The eyes showed penetration and thought; the mouth spoke of firmness; the nose had that indefinable line, seen in side-face, which almost invariably denotes a sweet temper. "He'll do," thought Mr. Elvey, after a moment's survey. "Successful experiment!" "But you didn't go to the South Sea Islands," Ethel said, in answer to Nigel's last remark, while the three boys, varying in ages from sixteen to thirteen, stood admiringly round the returned traveller. "No, we had not time. I should have liked it. But I didn't want to be longer away." "And now—College?" asked Mr. Elvey. "I hope so. After Christmas." "And then?" "If my father is willing, the Bar." "He knows your wish." "Has known it for years. I never could understand the reasons for his hesitation." Mr. Elvey might have answered, "Nor anybody else," but did not.