with every appearance of cordiality, but with conscious confusion. Each of them colored perceptibly, and Maurice was angry with himself for blushing before a boy. Long afterwards he remembered how cold, and even how hard, was the handsome clearness of the young eyes that met his own in an artificial smile.
"You here? I thought you were at Blankley."
"I left Blankley yesterday; I'm on my way to Spain."
"To Spain? How charming!"
"To join a friend there—just for a month or two."
"Interesting country—well worth seeing. Your mother's all right?"
"Oh, yes, all right. And Miss Glanvil—" Arthur Tregent went on, cheerfully.
"Vera's all right?" interrupted Maurice, with a still gayer tone.
"Every one, everything's all right!" Arthur laughed.
"Well, I mustn't keep you. Bon voyage!"
Maurice Glanvil, after the young man had