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“We’ve been over that ground e—ver so many times. Do be nice to a poor orphan boy.”

“You don’t deserve it.”

“I never did, and yet you used to be. Don’t let me go away feeling I haven’t a friend in the world.”

For one instant she looked at him irresolutely, and he slipped his arm round her.

“Please kiss me once-for-a-treat, and make it up, and don’t try and drive me to be a bloated plutocrat. I mean aristo—because it’s against my conscience and I should die.”

“Oh, Tony, you’re hopeless. Yes—once. Only I am not convinced, and you aren’t being nice at all, and you’re a dreadfully selfish, opinionated boy.”

“I’m anything in the world you like, Alison.”

“So long as you get your own way,” she murmured. “Aren’t you ashamed?”

“Not very; and I’m afraid I ought to go and say goodbye to everybody else if I still want that train. I’ll write soon, and please send your letters care of the Seamen’s Institute, Sydney. The padre there is a friend of mine. No, it doesn’t sound likely, does it? Good-bye—dear.”

He went abruptly. It was not a very satisfactory leave-taking. Though they had made it up, Alison was obviously hurt, and the Professor was slightly annoyed because of her distress. Tony might be any kind of a young fool he liked, but he should not have troubled Alison. The atmosphere seemed to have affected even Small Alison, for she wept and would not say good-bye at all; and altogether there was a most unusual shadow over the house of Straine.

Tony did not let his mind come back to it till he was in the Vancouver-bound train, and then it was with a sort of wonder that Alison had minded so much, “though,” thought he, “I expected that she’d dislike it. I must say think it’s my own affair, and if I repent later on, that’s my I