"Ah, that's better. Well, I won't ask any more questions; I suppose it isn't fair. Now sit down and tell me all about the end of your school days--all you haven't told in your letters--beautiful letters they were, too, Prince Charming, and I had only one grievance about them: that some one else should have to read them to me. However, that can't be helped. Now tell me what they said to you when you left, and whether they were sorry, and whether they cheered you, or if there were any speeches. Oh, I had a mind to come down and walk with my dear boy among the people who looked up to him and loved him; I've been mighty jealous of you, and mighty proud. Eight years ago, or more, I struck a bargain with you, and you've held to it more faithfully than many a man could have done. I wasn't mistaken in you, Comethup, and some day perhaps you'll know how you've changed my life and what you've really done for me. Now tell me everything. Lunch will be ready directly." Comethup entered into a long recital of his doings, sharply questioned at intervals by Miss Carlaw as to the number of runs he had made here and the number of wickets he had taken there; she appeared to know all the technicalities of everything that had concerned him by heart. The recital lasted well into the middle of lunch, and she heard it through to the bitter end with complete and smiling satisfaction. Then, after sitting silent for some minutes, she turned abruptly to him, and felt for his hand upon the table and covered it with her own.