They had come to a little park adjoining a church-yard where there were benches. He led them to one of the seats farthest removed from the pavement. Joey and Ruby strolled into the churchyard. "I suppose I shall have to go back," said David gloomily. "For a few days, at least. They will be expecting me. And the property is mine now--and all that. But, Mrs. Braddock," he went on feverishly, "I am coming back. In a week, yes, or less than that. I am coming back to be with you--to help you. I can't stay away now, Mrs. Braddock. It would make me too unhappy. I must be near Christine. She's more to me now than anything else in all this world." Mrs. Braddock smiled wanly. "You are very young," she said, "and very impulsive. Do you think it would be kind to Christine if you were to follow the show for no other reason than to be near her? Would that be the act of a sincere friend? She would be compromised, I think you will admit. It was different before. You were one of us. Now you are an outsider. Even the easiest-going of the performers would resent your attitude if you were to follow us now. It is an unwritten law among us that an outsider is always an outsider. We are like gypsies. Even you, who have been one of us, can have no future standing in our tribe--for that is what we are, David. You must take your place among those who look on from afar. As individuals we will always greet you and give you the best of our love; collectively we cannot take you among us. That is over. You are--" "But I may still be a performer," he cried insistently. He had taken Christine's hand in his, only to have it gently withdrawn by the girl. "No, David," said Mary Braddock firmly, "it is out of the question. You are no longer a soldier of fortune. You are a Jenison of Jenison Hall. We can't build a bridge for that." "But I won't stand it!" he exclaimed passionately. "I _will_ come back." "As a clown?" said she, smiling. "I'll buy a part interest in the show," he said stubbornly. "You are not of age," she reminded him. "The courts will name a guardian for you, I fancy. No, my boy, we must face the thing squarely. We shall be glad to see you if you happen to be where we may meet naturally." "But I love Christine," he protested. "You told me last night that you would put no obstacle in our way to--" "I told you last night that I would put no obstacle in your way, David, if you came to me in five years and still could say that you love her and would make her your wife." "But we thought then that I might always be near her--with the show, perhaps," he argued. "Quite true. But all that is blotted out, don't you see." Christine was weeping silently. "You think I'll forget her!" he cried angrily. "Oh, David!" moaned Christine. "You think I'll not care for her always--"