Raymond was soon at 'The Magnolias,' and found Mr. Churchouse expecting him in the garden. They had not met since Henry Ironsyde's death, but the elder, familiar with the situation, did not speak of Raymond's father. He was anxious to learn the young man's decision, and proved too ingenuous to conceal his relief when the visitor explained his plans. "I felt it my duty to offer you a temporary home," he said, "and we should have done our best to make you comfortable, but one gets into one's routine and I won't disguise from you that I am glad you go to North Hill House, Raymond." "You couldn't disguise it if you tried, Uncle Ernest. You're thankful--naturally. You don't want youth in this dignified abode of wisdom. Besides, you've got no place for a horse--you know you haven't." "I've no objection to youth, my dear boy, but I can't pretend that the manners and customs of youth are agreeable to me. Tobacco, for example, causes me the most acute uneasiness. Then the robustness and general exaggeration of the youthful mind and body! It rises beyond fatigue, above the middle-aged desire for calm and comfort. It kicks up its heels for sheer joy of living; it is ever in extremes; it lacks imagination, with the result that it is ruthless. All these characteristics may go with a delightful personality--as in your case, Raymond--but let youth cleave to youth. Youth understands youth. You will in fact be much happier with Waldron." "And you will be happier without me." "It may be selfish to say so, but I certainly shall." "Well, you've had the virtue of making the self-denial and I think it was awfully good of you to do so." "I am always here and always very happy and willing to befriend the grandson of my father's partner," declared Mr. Churchouse. "It is excellent news that you are going into the business." "Remains to be seen." The dining room at 'The Magnolias' was also the master's study. There were innocent little affectations in it and the room was arranged to create an atmosphere of philosophy and art. Books thronged in lofty book-shelves with glass doors. These were surmounted by plaster busts of Homer and Minerva, toned to mellowness by time. In the window was the writing desk of Mr. Churchouse, upon which stood a photograph of Goethe. Tea was laid and a girl brought in the hot water when Mr. Churchouse rang for it. After she had gone Raymond praised her enthusiastically. "By Jove, what a pretty housemaid!" he exclaimed.