Tony's belief in prayer was quite mechanical, and when the next day she saw her shabby friend on a stile at the top of Wilderwick hill, she in no wise connected the sight with those few uncomfortable moments on her knees. "Good morning," she said simply; "I'm so glad to see you." Nigel smiled at her. At first she had wondered a little whether she liked his smile--to-day she definitely decided that she did. "I hoped we'd meet again," he said. "So did I," answered the virginal candour of sixteen. "You don't think me queer, then?" "Ye-es. But I like it." "Could we be friends?" "Yes--rather!" He held out his hand. He was smiling--but suddenly as her hand took his, she saw the old wretched look creep into his eyes, together with something else that puzzled her. Were those tears? Did men ever cry? She found herself feeling frightened and vexed. Nigel crimsoned with shame, and the fire of his anger licked up the tears of his weakness. The next moment he was looking at her with dry eyes--and, strange to say, from that day his childish fits of weeping troubled him less. He and Tony turned almost mechanically down the narrow grass lane leading past Old Surrey Hall to the woods of Cowsanish. They did not speak much at first--indeed, a kind of restraint seemed established between them. Nigel wondered more than ever what had made him seek her out--this naïve, shy, rather limited little girl. All yesterday he had been struggling with a desperate need of her. He could not understand why he wanted her so; she was not nearly as sympathetic as Len and Janey, she was not so interesting, even, and yet he wanted her. At first he had thought it was her ignorance of his past life which made her presence such refreshment--the blessed fact that with her he had a clean slate to write over. After all, though Len and Janey had forgiven, they could not forget--for them his muddled sum was only crossed out, not wiped clean. With Tony he could start afresh from the beginning, not merely where his miserable blunder ended. And yet this was not all that drew him to her. He felt deep down in his heart a subtler, more compelling attraction. What brought him to Tony was a development of the same feeling that had made him catch up the unlovely Ivy in his arms and find her sweet. It was a fragment of that strange, new part of him, which had been born in prison, and frightened Len and Janey--the child.