Then came the excitement of Paddington--undergrads with golf-bags slung across their shoulders; others who were spectacled and looked learned; still others with ties of contrasting hues and secret significance--a crowd superbly young and enthusiastic, which did its best to appear blasé. And then the rush of the train, the exalted sense of opportunity, the overwhelming consciousness of manhood, and that first night of romantic speculation within the gray walls of Calvary College! Bells, hanging so high and sounding so mellow that they seemed to swing from clouds, struck out the hours. His mother had heard them, those same bells, in her girlhood. By craning out, he could see the window from which Jehane had caught first sight of his father and had called Nan's attention. He was beginning his journey at the spot where his parents' journey, halfway over, had commenced. Would he and Cherry tell their children stories of where and how they had met? He and Cherry! It was of her that he was thinking when Harry Arran entered and found him seated among his partly opened boxes. “Tried to reach you all summer,” Peter said. Harry was taking stock of the room's contents. “I say, old boy, you've brought no end of furniture. You'll be quite a swell.---- What's that? Tried to reach us with letters, did you? We never got one of 'em. Never knew our next address ourselves. Just went wandering, you know. My brother's such an erratic chap.” Peter turned away, so that his face would not be seen, and spoke in an offhand manner. “Cherry with you?” The question tickled Harry. He straddled his legs and watched his friend's back, tilting his head toward his shoulder with a magpie expression of impertinent knowledge. “Cherry with us! No, jolly fear. She's a nice kid and all that, but we weren't out for love-affairs. Fact is, I was trying to make that silly ass brother of mine forget one woman. We carried knapsacks and went almost in rags. But what made you ask?” “I thought she was. The golden woman said----.” Harry interrupted. “Oh, so you've been seeing _her!_” He pronounced _her_ with his old hostility. “I wouldn't see too much of her.” Peter smiled quietly. How unjust Harry had always been to his brother's women friends! He was still the mouth-organ boy, only a little too old now to climb trees to display his jealousy. Did he think that he could protect the Faun Man forever from marrying? Didn't it ever enter his head that he might fall in love himself? And yet Peter sympathized with Harry, for he had the same feelings with regard to Kay. He would hate any man who tried to win her. That was a long way off--she was only thirteen at present. His thoughts came back to Harry. “So, if you were me, you wouldn't see too much of her! Why not? I've been feeling--well, rather sorry for her.”