“Men have no sense at all,” she said to herself.  Had she known it, the speech made the girl feel more kindly toward her older admirer than she had ever done before.

Gordon’s face was suffused with tenderness, as it always was at any mention of his father.  He stepped forward.

“May I shake hands with you, sir?” He grasped the hand of the older man.  “If I can ever be of any service to you—­of the least service—­I hope you will let my father’s son repay a part of his debt.  You could not do me a greater favor.”  As he stood straight and dignified, grasping the older man’s hand, he looked more of a man than he had ever done.  Mr. Lancaster was manifestly pleased.

“I will do so,” he said, with a smile.

Mrs. Yorke was in a fidget.  “This man will ruin everything,” she said to herself.

Seeing that his chance of seeing Alice alone was gone, Keith rose and took leave with some stateliness.  At the last moment Alice boldly asked him to take lunch with them next day.

“Thank you,” said Keith, “I lunch in Sparta to-morrow.  I am going South to-night.”  But his allusion was lost on the ladies.

When Keith came out, a handsome trap was standing at the door, with a fine pair of horses and a liveried groom.

And a little later, as Keith was walking up the avenue looking at the crowds that thronged it in all the bravery of fine apparel, he saw the same pair of high-steppers threading their way proudly among the other teams.  He suddenly became aware that some one was bowing to him, and there was Alice Yorke sitting up beside Mr. Lancaster, bowing to him from under a big hat with great white plumes.  For one moment he had a warm feeling about his heart, and then, as the turnout was swallowed up in the crowd, Keith felt a sudden sense of loneliness, and he positively hated Mrs. Yorke.  A little later he passed Ferdy Wickersham, in a long coat and a high hat, walking up the avenue with the girl he had seen at Mrs. Wentworth’s.  He took off his hat as they passed, but apparently they did not see him.  And once more that overwhelming loneliness swept over him.

He did not get over the feeling till he found himself in Dr. Templeton’s study.  He had promised provisionally to go back and take supper with the old clergyman, and had only not promised it absolutely because he had thought he might be invited to the Yorkes’.  He was glad enough now to go, and as he received the old gentleman’s cordial greeting, he felt his heart grow warm again.  Here was Sparta, too.  This, at least, was hospitality.  He was introduced to two young clergymen, both earnest fellows who were working among the poor.  One of them was a High-churchman and the other a Presbyterian, and once or twice they began to discuss warmly questions as to which they differed; but the old Rector appeared to know just how to manage them.

“Come, my boys; no division here,” he said, with a smile, “Remember, one flag, one union, one Commander.  Titus is still before the walls.”