Covell said he was delighted. “First rate,” he exclaimed. “Just what you ought to do. The old Quarter is the place to find out what is what.” Bob remembered something he had heard. “Seems to me,” he began. “Why, yes, didn’t I hear that you went over there yourself, Covell? Some one told me you had studied in Paris.” Again Covell favored the trio with that pleasant laugh of his. “Oh, yes!” he admitted, “I was there for awhile. Plugging along pretty well for me, too, and enjoying it. But the old health machine lost a cog or something and the doctors sent me home again. The toughest break of luck I ever had, that was,” he added, with a shrug. “Well, maybe I shall have another chance by and by. I hope so.” Townsend grunted in sympathy and Esther said she was sure he would have that chance. “We are all so glad Bob is to have his,” she added. Foster Townsend rose to his feet. “Well, come on, Seymour,” he ordered. “Let’s you and I go out and see Varunas for a spell. I want you to go around the Circle with me behind Claribel to-morrow. You haven’t seen her do a mile yet and it is high time you did. The mare is growing older, like the rest of us, but she can make some of the trotters around here carry all the sail they can spread and fall astern--even now.” They left the room together, Covell pausing to shake Bob’s hand once more and express his pleasure at their reunion. Left alone--something Griffin had become to believe was not likely to happen that evening--he and Esther faced each other. His expression was somber enough. She, too, seemed a little uneasy. “Isn’t it nice that Uncle Foster has some one with him at last who will take an interest in his trotting horses,” she said. “I used to pretend to, but he soon found out it was only make-believe. Seymour really does like horses; any one can see that he does.” Bob sniffed. “He used to have the name of liking anything that was fast,” he said; and was immediately sorry that he had said it. Esther looked at him. “Now what do you mean by that?” she queried. Bob hesitated and then replied that perhaps he had not meant anything in particular. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” he added. “How long has he been with you in this house?” “Why, I don’t know; ten days or so. How could I tell you before? I haven’t seen you for more than two weeks. And I wrote you in my letter that we were expecting some one.” “You didn’t tell me his name.” “Why should I? I didn’t suppose the name would mean anything to you. I hadn’t the least idea that you knew each other.... Bob, what is the matter with you this evening? I never saw you so queer. When Uncle Foster was asking you about going abroad you scarcely answered him. And you were almost rude to Mr. Covell. The way you glared at him! I am awfully afraid he noticed it; I don’t see how he could help it. I was ashamed of you. What is it all about?” He was glowering at that moment, not at her, but at the carpet.