“Yes,” said Monica; “there are two hamlets, Windlow and Windlow Malzoy, both in the same parish.  The church and vicarage are at Malzoy; but Frank is rather a terror—­my word, how that man talks!  But I like Jack, though I have only seen him half a dozen times—­ that reminds me that I must have him to dinner or something—­and I like his sister even better.  But I am afraid that Jack may turn out a bore too—­he is rather charming at present, because he says whatever comes into his head; and it’s all quite fresh; but that is what poor Cousin Frank does—­only it’s not at all fresh!  However, there’s nothing like living with a bore to teach one the merits of holding one’s tongue.  Poor old Frank!  I thought he would be the death of us all one evening at Windlow.  He simply couldn’t stop, and he had a pathetic look in his eye, as if he was saying, ’Can’t anyone assist me to hold my tongue?’”

Howard laughed and got up.  “Well,” he said, “I’ll take your advice.  I don’t know anyone like you, Monnie, for making up one’s mind.  You crystallise things.  I shall like to see Aunt Anne, and I shall like to see Jack at home; and meanwhile will you think the matter over, and give me a lead?  I don’t want to leave Cambridge at all, but I would rather do that than go sour, as some people do!”

“Yes,” said Monica, “when you get beneath the surface, Cambridge is rather a sad place.  There are a good many disappointed men here—­ people who wake up suddenly in middle life, and realise that if they had gone out into the world they would have done better; but I like Cambridge; you can do as you like here—­and then the rainfall is low.”

Howard went back to his rooms and wrote a short note to Mrs. Graves to suggest a visit; he added that he felt ashamed of himself for never coming, “but Monica says that you would like to see me, and Monica is generally right.”

That evening Jack came in to say good-bye.  He did not look forwards to the vacation at all, he said; “Windlow is simply the limit!  I believe it’s the dullest place in the kingdom!”

“What would you feel if I told you that we shall probably meet?” said Howard.  “I am going to stay with Mrs. Graves—­that is, if she will have me.  I don’t mind saying that the fact that you are close by is a considerable reason why I think of going.”

“That’s simply splendid!” said Jack; “we will have no end of a time.  Do you do anything in particular—­fish, I mean, or shoot?  There’s some wretched fishing in the river, and there is some rabbit-shooting on the downs.  Mrs. Graves has a keeper, a shabby old man who shoots, as they say, for the house.  I believe she objects to shooting; but you might persuade her, and we could go out together.”

“Yes,” said Howard, “I do shoot and fish in a feeble way.  We will see what can be done.”