Those long days and nights! The wind howled up from the fenlands and whiffed through the ivy on the walls; the skies were grey and desolate, the quadrangle a waste of dingy green. It was the time of the terminal House-Matches, and when Milner's beat School House in the Semi-Final the cheering throng passed right under Speed's window, yelling at the tops of their voices and swinging deafening rattles. In a few days Milner's would play Lavery's in the Final, and he hoped to be up by then and able to watch it. Of course, he had visitors. Clanwell came and gave him endless chatter about the House-Matches; a few of the less influential prefects paid him a perfunctory visit of condolence and hoped he would soon be all right again. And then Doctor and Mrs. Ervine. "Howard tells me it is nothing--um--to be--um, er, perturbed about. Just, to use an--um--colloquialism, run down, eh, Speed? The strain of the--um--concert must have been quite--um--considerable. By the way, Speed, I ought to congratulate you--the whole evening passed in the most--um, yes--the most satisfactory manner." And Mrs. Ervine said, in her rather tart way: "It's quite a mercy they only come once a year, or we should all be dead very soon, I think." And Clare. Helen had kept her promise. She had written to Clare asking her to tea on a certain afternoon, and she had also contrived that when Clare came she should be transacting important and rather lengthy business with the Matron. The result was that Speed, now in his sitting-room though still not allowed out of doors, was there alone to welcome her. He had got into such a curious state of excitement as the time neared for her arrival that when she did come he was almost speechless. She smiled and shook hands with him and said, immediately: "I'm so sorry to hear you haven't been very well. I feel partly responsible, since I dragged you all that way in the fog the other night. But I'm not going to waste too much pity on you, because I think you waste quite enough on yourself, don't you?" He laughed weakly and said that perhaps he did. Then there was a long pause which she broke by saying suddenly: "What's the matter with you?" "Matter with me? Oh, nothing serious--only a chill----" "That's not what I mean. I want to know what's the matter with you that makes you look at me as you were doing just then." "I--I--I didn't know I was. I--I----" He stopped. What on earth were they going to talk about? And what was this look that he had been giving her? He felt his cheeks burning; a fire rising up all around him and bathing his body in warmth. She said, obviously with the desire to change the subject: "What are you and Helen going to do at Christmas?" Pulling himself together with an effort, he replied: "Well, we're not certain yet. My--er--my people have asked us down to their place." "And of course you'll go." "I'm not certain." "But why not?" He paused. "Well, you see--in a way, it's a private reason. I mean----"