He continued hesitating--faltering. ‘It is not for that only, my darling. This letter--I am afraid I shall have to go: a--a friend of mine has got into trouble. I--can’t exactly tell what it is; but wants me to go.’ ‘Oh, how sorry I am!’ said Grace. ‘Dear Oliver, it is natural people should turn to you when they are in trouble. Who is he? Do I know him? Has he written to you about--’ ‘I don’t suppose--he--knows anything about it. It is a friend I haven’t heard of for a long time. Not one for you to know, but in great trouble. Dying, the letter says.’ ‘Oh, Oliver, go--go at once. Not for the world would I keep you from a dying man. Don’t tell me any more than you wish, dear. But can I do anything--can I send anything? Is he--oh, Oliver, forgive me--is he poor?’ ‘Forgive you?’ he said. He held her close to him with a strain which was almost violent, as if he could not let her go. Then he said, ‘No, my darling, you can do nothing. I may have helped to make things worse, and I am at the height of happiness, while this poor creature--this poor--’ ‘Oh, Oliver, go and comfort him,’ she said, ‘Don’t lose a train; don’t come back to any good-bye. Go--go!’ Then while he hold her in his arms she said, smiling, ‘It need not be a very long parting, I suppose?’ ‘Any parting is long that takes me from you, Grace.’ ‘But it is for love’s sake. Good-bye. I’ll do all I can do, Oliver. I’ll pray for you--and him.’ ‘God bless you, my dear love--not good-bye--till we meet again.’ And then the door closed, and he was gone. The day had grown dark, surely, all at once. It was a day in early spring, and very cloudy. A mass of dark vapour had blown up over the sweet sky; and what a change it was all in a moment, from that pretty fooling about himself and his other self to this sudden parting! But, then, it was an errand of mercy on which he was going. God be with him! And it could not be for long. Nothing, neither trouble nor suffering, nor death of friends, nor any created thing could separate them long. CHAPTER III. Trix was not so quickly satisfied as Grace had been. ‘Going away!’ she cried; ‘going to leave Grace! I thought you could not bear to have her out of your sight.’ ‘I hope I was not such an ass as to say so, but I cannot help myself--it is an old friend--’ ‘Who is he? Do I know him?’ she said, as Grace had said. ‘You men are so ridiculous about your friends. Probably somebody that did you nothing but harm, and whom you would be thankful never to hear of again.’ ‘You speak like an oracle. Trix; but I must go all the same.’ ‘And why don’t you say who he is? Ah, it was a great deal better for you, Oliver, when you had no friends that your sister didn’t know of. Tell me who he is--at least, tell me his name.’ ‘You would not be a bit the wiser. You know nothing whatever about--him. Trix, take great care of her while I am away.’