to hear what this young man had said.

“I think he said something about your making war upon a large scale,” Stephen explained diffidently.

She sat still for a moment. She was looking towards the deserted cricket pitch.

“Where is he staying now?” she asked.

“I do not know,” he answered. “I have warned [Pg 58]all the likely people not to receive him, and I have told him, too, that he will only get your tenants into trouble if he tries to get lodgings here.”

“I should like,” she said, “to speak to him. Perhaps you would be so good as to ask him to step this way for a moment.”

Stephen departed, wondering. Deyes was watching his hostess with an air of covert amusement.

“Do you continue the warfare,” he asked, “or has the young man’s prowess softened your heart?”

Wilhelmina raised her parasol and looked steadily at her questioner.

“Warfare is scarcely the word, is it?” she remarked carelessly. “I have no personal objection to the young man.”

They watched him crossing the field towards them. Notwithstanding his recent exertions, he walked lightly, and without any sign of fatigue. Deyes looked curiously at the crest upon the cap which he was carrying in his hand.

“Magdalen,” he muttered. “Your missioner grows more interesting.”

Wilhelmina leaned forwards. Her face was inscrutable, and her greeting devoid of cordiality.

“So you have decided to teach my people cricket instead of morals, Mr. Macheson,” she remarked.

“The two,” he answered pleasantly, “are not incompatible.”

Wilhelmina frowned.

“I hope,” she said, “that you have abandoned your