"He likes it, so he tells me, because people don't come and bother him there." "I should think not indeed. I wouldn't set foot in such a place." "He goes there most evenings, and so does Philip--and it's so bad for Uncle Rad to be out late these foggy nights." "You ought to make an effort and stop it, Luke." "I have made many efforts, sir. But, as a matter of fact, I had made up my mind to make a final one to-night. Uncle Rad ought to go abroad, and I thought I would try to impress this on Philip. He can't be a bad man." "Oh! can't he?" was Colonel Harris's muttered comment. "At any rate, if I have no influence, he has, and he must exert it and get Uncle Rad down to Algeciras or anywhere he likes so long as it is well south." Luke paused awhile, his face flushed with this expression of determination which must have caused his pride many a bitter pang. Then he resumed more quietly: "It's rather humiliating, isn't it, to go to that man as a suppliant?" "Don't go as a suppliant, my boy. You must insist on your uncle being properly looked after." Colonel Harris thought all that sort of thing so easy. One always does before one has had a genuine tussle with the unpleasant realities of life; to the good country squire with an assured position, an assured income, assured influence, it seemed very easy indeed to insist. He himself never had to insist; things occurred round him and at his word, as it were, of themselves. But Louisa, knowing how matters stood, made no suggestion. She knew that Luke would do his best, but that that best was of little avail now; as Philip de Mountford arranged so it would all come about. Friends and well-wishers could but pray that the intruder was not a bad man, and that he had his uncle's health at heart. She gave the signal to go, saying simply, "We mustn't be late for dinner, father, must we?" And she rose to go, held back by the hand, by Luke's fervent insistence. He could not accustom himself to part from her, as he often had to do. It seemed absurd, but undeniable. He was supremely happy in her company, and snatched as much of it as ever he could; but the wrench was always awful and Louisa--subtly comprehensive--was conscious of the terrible pain which she gave him at every parting. She felt the repercussion of it in all her nerves, although her sound common-sense condemned the sensation as unreal.