CHAPTER XXII THE BETTER PART When Jack Raymond left Jerry painting the map red, he was in that curiously ill-used frame of mind which comes to most of us, when a good action--which we have steadily refused to do--becomes imperative, and ceases therefore to have any virtue save the virtue of necessity; when, briefly, we have neither eaten our cake nor have it. He knew perfectly well that sooner or later that day--the later the better to his ill-humour--he would go down to the city, make inquiries concerning that letter, pay for its possession--here the remembrance of those bank-notes, ready for use even on a Sunday, in his pocket-book, came to make him swear inwardly at a coincidence that was too much like fate for freedom--if needful, and then send it to Lady Arbuthnot, he supposed, with a polite little note! And all because a boy who reminded him of his own boyhood, had made him feel that no other course was open to him--that he was bound to do this thing--or shoot himself for not doing it! The church-bells had just finished chiming as, on his way to the club, he walked down the Mall; for the main entrance to Government House gave on it, and not on the Garden Mound. In his present evil temper even this triviality annoyed him. Why, in heaven's name, could not Lady Arbuthnot have let him go as he had come? go back to his own life?--to the philosophic peace which had been so pleasant! And now---- What cursed nonsense it was for him to put himself within the reach of disturbing elements!--for they were disturbing. If it could even be of any real use to her--here something in his own thought of her, so beautiful, so good, made him realise his position in regard to her still more clearly. No! despite his respect, and her goodness, it would not take much to make him passionately in love with her again. And would she----? That was another question; but she had not forgotten! As he told himself this, she and Lesley Drummond came by in the Government House carriage, and he paused to let it turn in to the church compound. 'We are dreadfully late, I'm afraid,' called the former concernedly. 'Are you coming?'