Max came back about ten days after Jill had left us. I found him waiting for me one evening when I got back to the cottage. As usual, he greeted me most affectionately, only he laughed when I made him turn to the light that I might see how he looked. 'Well, what is your opinion, Ursula, my dear? I hope you have noticed the gray hairs in my beard. I saw them there this morning.' 'You are rather tanned by the cold winds. I suppose Torquay has done you good; but your eyes have not lost their tired look, Max: you are not a bit rested.' 'I believe I want more work: too much rest would kill me with ennui,' stretching out his arms with a sort of weary gesture. 'I walked a great deal at Torquay; I was out in the air all day; but it did not seem to be what I wanted: I was terribly bored. Tudor is glad to get me back. The fellow actually seems dull. Have you any idea what has gone wrong with him, Ursula?' But I prudently turned a deaf ear to this question, and he did not follow it up; and a moment afterwards he mentioned that he had been at Gladwyn, and that Miss Darrell had given him a good account of Miss Hamilton. 'I had no idea that she was away until this afternoon. Her departure was rather sudden, was it not?' I think he was glad when I gave him Gladys's message; but he looked rather grave when I told him how much she was enjoying her freedom. 'She seems a different creature; those Maberleys are so good to her; they pet her, and yet leave her uncontrolled to follow her own wishes. I am more at rest about her there.' 'A girl ought to be happy in her own home,' he returned, somewhat moodily. 'I think Miss Hamilton has indulged her sadness long enough. Perhaps there are other reasons for her being better. I suppose she has not heard--?' And here he stopped rather awkwardly. 'Do you mean whether she has heard anything of Eric? Oh no, Max.' 'No, I was not meaning that,' looking at me rather astonished. 'Of course we know the poor boy is dead. I was only wondering if she had had an Indian letter lately. Well, it is none of my affair, and I cannot wait to hear more now. Good-night, little she-bear; I am off.' And he actually was off, in spite of my calling him quite loudly in the porch, for I wanted him to tell me what he meant. Had Gladys any special correspondent in India? I wondered if I might venture to question Lady Betty. As it very often happens, she played quite innocently into my hands, for the very next day she came to tell me that she had had a letter from Gladys. 'It was a very short one,' she grumbled. 'Only she had an Indian letter to answer, and that took up her time, so that was a pretty good excuse for once.' 'Has Gladys any special friend in India?'