fluent writing at a glance, and Jan knew what sort of glance it would have been.
This was the little note, word for word:—
"The Lodge,
"Dear old Jan,
"I can never tell you how I rejoice at your tremendous success. Heaps of congratulations! I'm proud of you, so will they all be at home.
"School is awful for dividing old friends unless you're in the same house or form. You know that's all it is or ever was! Will you forgive me and come for a walk after second chapel on Sunday? Always your old friend,
Chips knew nothing until the Sunday, when he said he supposed Jan was coming out after second chapel as usual, and Jan answered very off-hand that he was awfully sorry he was engaged. "One of the Eleven, I suppose?" says Chips, not in the least disposed to grudge him to them. Then Jan told the truth aggressively, and Chips made a tactless comment, whereupon Jan told him he could get somebody else to sit in his study that night. It was the first break in an arrangement which had lasted since their first term. Jan was sorry, and not only because it was so open to misconstruction; he was man enough to go in after all as though nothing had happened. And silly old Chips nearly wept with delight. But nothing was said about the afternoon walk and talk, which Jan had enjoyed more than any since the affair of the haunted house.
It was just as well that Carpenter had been left out of it this time. Two is not only company, but to drag in
