He had never inquired into Miss Forrester's religious views before, but he had always assumed that they were sound. And now here she was polluting the golden summer air with the most hideous blasphemy. It would be incorrect to say that James's love was turned to hate. He did not hate Grace. The repulsion he felt was deeper than mere hate. What he felt was not altogether loathing and not wholly pity. It was a blend of the two. There was a tense silence. The listening world stood still. Then, without a word, James Todd turned and tottered away. * * * * * Peter was working moodily in the twelfth bunker when his friend arrived. He looked up with a start. Then, seeing that the other was alone, he came forward hesitatingly. "Am I to congratulate you?" James breathed a deep breath. "You are!" he said. "On an escape!" "She refused you?" "She didn't get the chance. Old man, have you ever sent one right up the edge of that bunker in front of the seventh and just not gone in?" "Very rarely." "I did once. It was my second shot, from a good lie, with the light iron, and I followed well through and thought I had gone just too far, and, when I walked up, there was my ball on the edge of the bunker, nicely teed up on a chunk of grass, so that I was able to lay it dead with my mashie-niblick, holing out in six. Well, what I mean to say is, I feel now as I felt then--as if some unseen power had withheld me in time from some frightful disaster." "I know just how you feel," said Peter, gravely. "Peter, old man, that girl said golf bored her pallid. She said she thought it was the silliest game ever invented." He paused to mark the effect of his words. Peter merely smiled a faint, wan smile. "You don't seem revolted," said James. "I am revolted, but not surprised. You see, she said the same thing to me only a few minutes before." "She did!" "It amounted to the same thing. I had just been telling her how I did the lake-hole today in two, and she said that in her opinion golf was a game for children with water on the brain who weren't athletic enough to play Animal Grab." The two men shivered in sympathy. "There must be insanity in the family," said James at last. "That," said Peter, "is the charitable explanation." "We were fortunate to find it out in time." "We were!" "We mustn't run a risk like that again." "Never again!" "I think we had better take up golf really seriously. It will keep us out of mischief." "You're quite right. We ought to do our four rounds a day regularly." "In spring, summer, and autumn. And in winter it would be rash not to practise most of the day at one of those indoor schools." "We ought to be safe that way." "Peter, old man," said James, "I've been meaning to speak to you about it for some time. I've got Sandy MacBean's new book, and I think you ought to read it. It is full of helpful hints." "James!" "Peter!"