All this could be looked into some other time, if it were worth bothering about at all.  Or could Williams be spoony on Honoria?  After her money?  He was much younger—­evidently—­but young men adored ripe women, and young girls idolized elderly soldiers. C’etait a voir (Beryl ever since she had been to Paris on a stolen honeymoon with the architect liked saying things to herself in French).

Towards the end of October, David received at Fig Tree Court a letter from his father in Glamorganshire.

Pontystrad Vicarage,
October 20, 1901.

MY DEAR SON,—­

The improvement in my sight continues.  I can now read a little every day, by daylight, without pain or fatigue, and write letters.  I feel I owe you a long one; but I shall write a portion each day and not try my eyes unduly.

I am glad to know you are now settled down in chambers at Fig Tree Court in the Temple and have begun your studies for the Bar.  You could not have taken up a finer profession.  What seems to me so wonderful is that you should be able to earn your living at the same time and be no charge on me.  I accept your assurances that you need no support; but never forget, my dear Son, that if you do, I am ready and willing to help.  You sowed your wild oats—­perhaps we both exaggerated the sins of the wild years—­at any rate you have made a noble reparation.  What a splendid school the Colonies must be!  What a difference between the David who left me five years ago for Mr. Praed’s studio and the David who returned to me last summer!  I can never be sufficiently thankful to Almighty God for the change He has wrought in you!  No lip religion, but a change of heart.  I presume you explained everything to the Colonial Office after you got back to London and that you are now free to take up a civil career?  The people out there never sent me any further information; but the other day one of my letters to you (written after I had received the sad news) returned to me, with the information that the hospital you were in had been captured by the Boers and that you could not be traced.  I enclose it.  You can now finish up the story yourself and let the authorities know how you got away and returned home.

The other day that impudent baggage Jenny Gorlais came and asked to see me ... she said her husband was out of work and refused to give her enough money to provide for all her children, that he had advised her to apply to you for the maintenance of your son!  Relying on what you had told me I sent for Bridget and we both told her we had made every enquiry and now refused absolutely to believe in her stories of five years ago—­that we were sure you were not the father of her eldest child.  Bridget, for example, believed the postman was its father.  Jenny burst into tears, and as she did not persist in her claim my heart was moved, and I gave her ten shillings, but told her pretty