John met Merivale at the Phyllis Court Club, where he had been staying for Henley Regatta. Marsh was rowing for his college, Vernley and his people were also at the club. Merivale was known to Mr. Vernley, who delighted in pairing him with Marsh, now a brilliant extempore antagonist. Those had been great days at Henley. Marsh was radiant. Never had John seen him more audacious, more triumphant. Merivale, disconcerted, admired, and, being an astute tactician, adopted Marsh as his pupil. Their dinner table was the noisiest, their little set the most conspicuous. They all registered a vow to spend August together on the East Coast. These were days of supreme happiness. Evenings in Mrs. Graham's charmed circle, the intellectual stimulus of a supper gathering at Mr. Ribble's house, the glimpse of home, obtained at Steer's, where the nursery woke to riotous mirth with the advent of "Uncle John"--or those marvellously perfect dinner parties at Slade's house in Braham Gardens, with guests as carefully chosen as the menu; the air of self-possession and quiet mannered ease, the atmosphere in short which is the inseparable adjunct of the Wykehamist the world over--or, turbulent and youthful, the late dance-parties in Tilly's studio--with Tilly, deep in love this time with the attractive young pianist whom John had brought along one evening--yes, it was a splendid life, with every hour booked ahead, and heights of glory for youth to scale. But, in all these things the most ardent, John turned aside at moments and his thoughts were far away. If Muriel were here among his friends, to share this wine of youth! At night-time, often in the stillness of the long stone streets, so solemn at mid-night, as he walked home, he would wonder just how she lay pillowed in her bed in a room he knew not in the Convent of the Sacred Heart. A momentary glimpse held him in the spell of recollection--the way her little hand tucked away a rebellious curl behind the ear, even the way she had of nibbling at a concert programme! And to see her run up a flight of steps--up the terrace at "The Croft," and then turn at the top, breathless and flushed, her eyes shining! Why was she exiled from him? It was cruel to waste the ardour of their youth in this senseless fashion. On his last visit to the Vernleys, he could no longer keep silent upon his dream. Quickly, bluntly almost, he poured out his whole heart before Mr. Vernley, who listened to him with a kindly tolerance. It might end everything; he would have to leave the house, of course, but this dual existence was intolerable. To his surprise Mr. Vernley just placed his hand on his shoulder, and said very kindly-- "You must be patient, my boy--you are but boy and girl yet. Twenty-one--and so much before you yet. Just wait, John, and then we'll talk seriously." "But I'm very serious, sir." Mr. Vernley smiled in his kindly fashion.