I expected him to be very angry, I looked for some bluster. None came. He shrugged his shoulders and wearily rubbed his brow with his hand. The case was very plain; he had been told, but he was not sure that he had been told the truth. Many people might have told him that Jenny meant to marry Fillingford. Only one on earth could have assured him that she did not. The assurance had been forthcoming--not in so many words, perhaps, yet plainly enough to be an assurance for all that. But was it an assurance of truth? It grew late, and I took my leave. Octon put on his hat and walked to the gate with me. "Come and see me again," he said. "I'm always ready for you--after dinner. A talk does a man good--even if he talks like a fool." "Yes, I'll come again--not that I've been very comforting." "No, you haven't. But then, you see, I don't believe a word you say." He went back to that attitude--to that obstinate assertion. It was not for me to argue the question with him; even if my tongue were free, why should I? He would argue it quite enough--there at Hatcham Ford, by himself. "Is that your estimable neighbor?" I asked. Through the darkness, by help of the street lamp, a man's figure was visible, standing at the gate of the new house which Jenny had taken for the Institute office. "That's the fellow," said Octon, and he walked on with me. "Good evening, Mr. Powers," he said, as we came to the gate. Powers bade him good evening, and also accorded to me a courteous greeting. In this hour of leisure he had assumed a pseudo-artistic garb, a soft shirt with trimmings along the front and a turndown collar cut very low, and a voluminous tie worn in an ultra-French fashion; his jacket appeared to be of velveteen, rather a light brown. "You find me star-gazing, gentlemen," said he. "I take delight in it. The immensity of the heavens!" "And the littleness of man! Quite so, Mr. Powers," said Octon, refilling his pipe. "These thoughts will come--sometimes to encourage us, sometimes--er--with an opposite effect." "Don't let them discourage you, Powers. That would be a pity. After all, the Institute will be pretty big." To a refined ear Octon was not treating Powers precisely with respect--but Powers's ear was not refined. He was evidently quite comfortable and at his ease with Octon. I wondered that Octon cared to chaff him in this fashion, offering what was to Powers a good substitute for friendliness. "Yes, sir. Miss Driver is giving us an adequate sphere for our ambitions. I have longed for one. Doubtless you have also, Mr. Austin?" "I'm not very ambitious, Mr. Powers." "Wise, sir, wise! But we can't help our dispositions. Mine is to soar! To soar upward by dint of hard work! Miss Driver will find I've not been idle when she next honors Ivydene with a visit. You don't know if she'll be here to-morrow?"