“My father, Colonel Thomas Lugur, died two years ago,” said Lugur, “and as it is now certain that my elder brother was killed in a late Afghan engagement, I came into the Lugur estate naturally.  It is not considered a very rich one, but it is quite large enough for all the demands I shall make on it.”

Some words of congratulation followed, and then they talked of Harry.  “He has a good heart,” said Lugur, “and when I learned you were moving in such a sensible way for his salvation, I wanted to help.  The improvements I have made at Yoden were not carelessly chosen.  Harry loves beautiful surroundings.  They may mean little to you or to me, but to him they are almost necessary.  He is easily persuaded, but you cannot reason with him.  As a general thing you cannot reason with youth.  You may as well try to beat a cloud with a stick.  Youth moves in the sublime region of its own aspirations.”

John laughed softly as he answered, “That is the difficult point with Harry.  He cannot find a reality that fills his ideals.”

“Well then, Hatton, that is a sign of a rich and varied nature.  We must bear with patience and good nature Harry’s gushing, little condescensions, for he really thinks the majority of his elders to be grossly ignorant, perverse, and cynical.  Yet he really loves us in spite of our faults, so I think we must be lenient with his faults.”

Lugur’s ideas exactly fitted John’s and as the men parted Lugur said, “I foresee that we shall be friends.  Call on me, if in the bad days coming I can help you.”

“I will do so gladly, Lugur”—­and then a silent clasp of their hands said all that was necessary.

At the entrance to John’s grounds Lugur turned to the railway station and John walked slowly onward through the wooded park till he came to the main entrance of the house.  There were few lights in the front rooms and when the door was opened to him he was painfully conscious of a great silence.  He had expected the want of company and light, for Jane had told him she would not return until the following day; but even if we expect unpleasant conditions, the realized expectation does not console us for them.  But his dinner was immediately served and he ate it with leisurely enjoyment, letting his thoughts drift calmly with his physical rest and refreshment.

After dinner he was quickly absorbed in a variety of calculations and, lost in this arbitrary occupation, forgot all else until the clock chimed ten.  Then with a sigh he folded away a note of results and ordered the closing of the house.  A new light was immediately on his face, and he went upstairs like a man who has a purpose.  This purpose took him to little Martha’s sleeping-room.  He opened the door gently.  There was only a rush light burning, but its faint beams showed him the soft white bed on which his darling lay sleeping.  Noiselessly he stepped to her side and for a few moments stood in silent prayer, looking at the lovely sleeper.  No one saw him, no one heard him, and he left the little sanctuary unnoticed by any human eye.