‘And what are you doing here, Tom?’ I exclaimed.

’Doing here!  Why, I’ve come to see you, of course, old fellow; what else should I have come for?  I set off early this morning, and I thought I would give you a bit of a surprise.  Are these your diggings?’

‘No,’ I said, ’I’m only spending the evening here; but I’ll come back with you at once.’

I went in for a moment to explain my sudden departure to Mr. and Mrs. Christie, and then I went with Tom to my lodgings.  He looked vastly amused when he saw Duncan’s house, and when I told him that I had been there all the time he seemed to think it a capital joke.

‘There’s no room for me, I’m afraid,’ he said, as he looked with an amused smile round my bedroom.

‘No, indeed, Tom,’ I said, ’and, joking apart, I would not ask you to come here if there was room; the hotel at the top of the hill will suit you better.’

Polly was sitting beside little John, but I tapped at the door, and told her a friend of mine had just arrived from London, and asked her if she thought it would be possible to get him some tea.  Just at this moment Duncan came in, and the two good souls did all in their power to do honour to my guest.  The whitest tablecloth was spread on the round table, the very finest herrings were cooked, round after round of crisp brown toast was buttered and put before the fire to keep hot, and all was ready in so short a time that Tom was astonished.

He did full justice to the meal, and seemed to appreciate my quarters better after he had partaken of it.  Then he declared himself tired out, so I walked with him up to the hotel.  He was in high spirits, and was much looking forward to the time we were to have there together, and to all the walks we should take to the places round.

Was I glad that he had come?  I asked myself this question many times that night.  I was fond of Tom; he had been like a brother to me, and yet—­and yet—­I wished he had not come to Runswick Bay.

Why was this?  Why would I have kept him away if I could?  I asked myself this question many times, as I came slowly down the hill that night.

Was it because it would be a hindrance to my work?  No, for my picture had made good progress, and I could work it up even better in my studio at home.  Besides which, Tom was a good-natured fellow, and would sit smoking and chatting in the old boat whilst I painted.

Was it that I wanted to be quiet, and to enjoy my present surroundings without interruption?  No, surely, for Tom’s company had always been pleasant to me, and I could not look upon him as a stranger.

Why was it, then, that I felt almost sorry that he had followed me here?  I had a suspicion of the right answer to that question, but I did not own it, even to myself, till I entered my lodging.

Duncan was reading a chapter aloud to Polly, as he always did before going to bed.  He stopped when he saw me come in, but I said, ’Go on, Duncan, never mind me; I shall like to listen.’  And the very first words that Duncan read seemed to me to contain the answer to my question.