"Now then," said Geoffrey, "man of the world, make a beginning." The vicar hesitated, and Geoffrey smiled. "Well, I'll help you," he said. "You want to know why I have not been at church lately?" "Yes," said the vicar, eagerly catching at the ball thrown to him, "I did want to speak to you about that for one thing." "Too wicked!" said Geoffrey. "Mind too much taken up with other things." "Too much bent upon laying up treasure upon earth, Trethick, thinking too little of the treasure in heaven." "I thought you said that you were going to talk to me like a man of the world," said Geoffrey, sharply. "Yes, yes--I am," was the hasty reply, for the vicar saw that a few more words in the same strain would send his companion away. "Go on then. You said you were heart-sick," said Geoffrey. "What's the matter?" "I am in a great deal of trouble, Trethick," said the vicar, heavily. "I'm not a man of the world, but you are, and--and--I like you, Trethick, I don't know why, but I wish we were better friends." "You like me?" said Geoffrey, laughing. "Why, my good sir, you and I are like positive and negative poles; we repel one another." "But why should we, Trethick? You seem always to exercise a strange power over me. I did not like you at first." "No," said Geoffrey. "I was too rough and outspoken; too irreligious. I shocked you." "Yes, yes. That is true," said the vicar. "Then you found that I was a rival, and you hated me?" "No: not hated you," said the vicar, sadly. "I felt that we could never be friends. That was all." "Look here, Lee," said Trethick; "are you a saint, or a humbug?" "Certainly not the first," said the vicar, smiling. "I sincerely hope not the second." "No: I don't believe you are," said Geoffrey, shortly. "Well, sir, the game's up. I've failed in my projects, and I've failed in my love. The way is open. I am no rival now." "Trethick," said the vicar, earnestly, "can't we be friends?" and he held out his hand. "Oh, yes, if you like," said Geoffrey, bitterly. "But why should you want to be friends with such a blackguard? There, man, go and have your way. I'm out of the race." "You are speaking very bitterly, Trethick," said the vicar, sadly. "You are bitterly disappointed with your failures. So am I. It is as Mr Penwynn said that evening: we have not been able to make our way." "But you are making your way," said Geoffrey.