Love or friendship can set no higher or harder task than in demanding the comprehension of a temperament utterly diverse, alien, and incompatible. That was the task Andy's heart laid on his brain. "You must not give up," was its command. Others might take their pleasure in Harry's gifts, might enjoy his brilliance, or reap benefit from his ready kindness--and then, when trouble came, pass by on the other side. There was every excuse for them; in the common traffic of life no more is asked or expected; men, even brilliant men, must behave themselves at their peril. Andy did not stand so. It was his to try to assess Harry's weakness, and to see if anywhere there could be found a remedy, a buttress for the weak wall in that charming edifice. Such a pity if it fell down, with all its beauties, just because of that one weak wall! But, alas, poor Andy was ill-fitted for this exacting task of love's. He might tell himself where his duty lay; he might argue that he could and did understand how a man might have a weak spot, and yet be a good man--one capable of useful and high things. But his instinct, the native colour of his mind, was all against these arguments. The shame that such a man should do such things was stronger. The weak spot seemed to spread in ever-widening circles; the evil seemed more and more to invade and infect the system; the weak wall doomed the whole edifice. Reason, argue, and pray for his friend as he might, in his inmost mind a voice declared that this day had witnessed the beginning of the end of the Harry Belfield whom he had loved. "Harry Belfield's no good!" "How are the mighty fallen and the weapons of war perished!" Chapter XXI. THE EMPTY PLACE. Belfield rubbed his hands against one another with a rueful smile. "Yes, yes, he's a hard fellow. He's hard on us; hard in taking a course that makes scandal inevitable. Meriton High Street will be breast-high in gossip about the midnight expulsion in a few hours. And hard in this--I suppose I'm not entitled to call it persecution--this punishment with which he threatens Harry. Still, if a man had treated my daughter in that way, and that daughter Vivien--" He spread out his hands, and added, "But then he's always been as hard as nails to the poor girl herself. You think there's that other motive? If you're right there, I put my foot in it once." He was thinking of certain hints he had given Wellgood at dinner one evening. "There's no doubt about it, I think, sir, but it doesn't help us much. It may show that Wellgood's motives aren't purely paternal, but it doesn't make matters better for Harry."