For the next hour I felt extremely miserable, but, remembering that I should, in all probability, see Jacintha to-morrow, I began to wish it were possible to do something to improve my appearance for the occasion. For not only were my clothes in a far from satisfactory condition, but the soles of my boots were full of holes, so that one stocking touched the ground.

There was nothing to do but wander about and look at the chickens until I was summoned to supper, which consisted of bread and very strong cheese.

On being shown to the bedroom, I found that it contained two beds, in one of which a small boy was already reposing. Although he seemed to watch me with considerable curiosity, he made no attempt at conversation; but it was a very noisy house, and I found it impossible to get to sleep for some time.

When my room-fellow awoke me at about six o'clock the following morning, the sun was shining brightly into the shabby room, so that this promised excellently for the day's tramp. I said my prayers, and having washed, dressed, and partaken of a somewhat scanty breakfast, wondering, as I ate, what had by this time become of Patch, I set out, at a little after half-past seven, in the direction of Hazleton.

Presently, passing through a village, which seemed to be on the outskirts of the town of Hazleton, I bought two penny sausage rolls at a small baker's shop, and asked for a glass of water. As I walked on, eating the rolls, it soon became evident that the town was close at hand. At intervals I passed large houses, standing in their own grounds, and carefully I read the names on their gate-posts, lest one should be Colebrook Park. The path, which had been almost indistinguishable from the roadway, was now asphalted, and I stopped to read a notice board concerning vagrants, wondering whether I ought to be reckoned under that denomination. I do not know whether the sun had affected me—for it shone with brilliant force that morning—or whether I was tired after my ten miles' walk without much food, but as I drew near to Hazleton, which I had formerly felt so anxious to reach, my usual spirits seemed to forsake me, and, if it had not been for the necessity to return the locket, I think I should have passed on my way without making the least attempt to see Jacintha again.

I seemed to have lost pride in myself, so that it became difficult to keep up much hope. Perhaps it might be possible to get the locket safely into Jacintha's hands without seeing her, especially if there happened to be a lodge at the entrance to Colebrook Park, when I might leave the trinket with the lodge-keeper.

With the object of making up my mind, I lay down on the wide border of grass on one side of the road, thankful for the shelter of the hedge. It was about half-past twelve, and several carriages passed as I lay there, as well as a few bicyclists. But now the straight, wide road was clear; no one was in sight, either to the right or to the left, until, from a gate a hundred yards away, in the direction of the town, a girl on a bicycle came forth, and I knew at once that she must be Jacintha.

She wore a wide-brimmed, white straw hat, and a white cotton frock, and was sitting very upright as she turned and coasted on her free-wheel machine down the slight hill towards me. For an instant I thought of turning away my face, so that, even if she remembered it, she should not recognise me; but she looked so bright and pleasant an object in the middle of the sunny road that, on the impulse of the moment, I rose to my feet, crossed the margin of grass, and lifted the cloth cap which had been given to me before I reached Polehampton.

Jacintha was off her machine at once. 'Why,' she cried, 'you are the boy who ran away!'

'My name is Everard, you know,' I answered.

'But I thought you said you were going to London?' she suggested.

'So I am.'

'It is not the nearest way from where you were to come through Hazleton,' said Jacintha.

'You see,' I explained, thrusting my fingers into my waistcoat pocket, 'I came to bring back your locket,' and I held it out towards her in the palm of my right hand.

'My locket?' she said, gazing at it while she held the handle of her bicycle.

'Yes,' I answered. 'I found it on the path just by the hedge where you were standing.'

'But I did not bring a locket with me from London,' she exclaimed, and I felt immensely disappointed.

'Isn't it really yours, then?' I asked.

'Of course not,' she returned. 'How can it be if I didn't bring one?' and then she removed one hand from the bicycle, and took the locket from my palm, which I wished had not been so extremely grimy. 'I think it is very pretty,' she continued, 'and I believe it is gold.'

'Oh, it is gold right enough!' I said, 'because it has a hall-mark. It is eighteen carat.'

'Have you come out of your way just because you thought it was mine?' she asked, giving me back the trinket.

'It was not very far,' I persisted.

'Rather nice of you, though,' said Jacintha.

'If it comes to that,' I answered, 'you were rather nice to me that day. Some girls would have given me away, and then I should have been back at Ascot House before now.'

As I was speaking, she took a small gold watch from her pocket.

'I must not be late,' she cried, 'because both Dick and I were late for breakfast.'

'Who is Dick?' I asked, as she put away her watch.

'Dick is my brother,' Jacintha explained. 'He only came down yesterday. Dick's a year older than I am. I really ought to go,' she added. 'If my uncle were to see me talking to you he mightn't like it.'

'I suppose,' I cried a little angrily, 'he would think I was begging?'

'At all events,' said Jacintha, candidly, 'he would be rather surprised, you know. Because you do look most tremendously dirty—just as if you were a regular tramp—and yet your face would be all right if it were only washed and you had your hair properly cut.'

I felt that my cheeks were growing red, and for the moment I was tempted to make an angry retort, although, remembering what I owed to Jacintha, I simply held out my hand and muttered 'Good-bye!'

'Oh, you mustn't go on yet,' she exclaimed. 'I want to hear all you've been doing. I must go in now, but please promise to wait till I come out again. I won't be long.'

'I am not in a hurry,' I admitted.

'Only don't stay here,' she said. 'Wait till I am out of sight, and then follow me until you come to our hedge. Right in the corner you will find a place you can get through, and nobody ever comes to that field. You get through the hedge and stay till I come back.'

CHAPTER XIV.

I stood in the road while Jacintha mounted her bicycle and rode up the slight hill to the gate, when she looked back and waved her hand as she turned into the grounds. Having waited a few minutes, I followed her directions, found the weak spot in the hedge, scrambled through, and at once sat down on the grass.

I saw I was in a remote corner of a large field, in which a few Jersey cows were grazing. But this was not quite an ordinary field, as it contained a good many foreign trees with iron railings round them. It was more like a park. In the middle stood a small mound, looking as if it had been made artificially, with a kind of arbour on the top overgrown with some sort of creeper and shut in by trees.

The time seemed to pass very slowly, but at last I saw the flash of Jacintha's white dress in the sunshine as she walked rapidly towards my corner, the house not being visible from where I sat. To my vexation, however, she was not alone. A few yards behind came a boy of about my own age and size, with a straw hat on the back of his head, a red-and-blue blazer thrown over his white cricket shirt, and his hands thrust in the pockets of his flannel trousers.

While Jacintha tripped quickly over the grass, her companion, who, no doubt, was her brother, seemed to follow far less cheerfully. I could not help thinking there was something unwilling, almost resentful, in his manner, so that I felt prepared to pay him back in his own coin. Although I might look as dirty and as much like a tramp as Jacintha had suggested, I was not going to stand any nonsense.

When they reached the arbour they came to a standstill and seemed to be holding an argument, until, a few minutes later, Jacintha tossed back her long hair and set forth at a run in my direction, whereupon I went to meet her.

'You didn't mind my bringing Dick?' she suggested, looking doubtfully into my face.

'Have you told him, then?' I asked.

'I told him yesterday,' she said. 'I mean I told him about seeing you in the wheat-field, and your running away from school, and when I just had time to whisper that I had met you before lunch, he said I must not come; but I told him I had promised, and then he said he would come too.'

By this time we were within a few feet of Dick, who looked all right, although he seemed to think a great deal of himself. He was fair, like Jacintha, and he did not take his hands out of his pockets, so I put my hands into my pockets also, and stared at him as hard as he stared at me.

'Dick!' cried Jacintha, 'this is Everard.'

'Well, look here,' he answered, 'if you don't want to be collared, you had better come in, instead of standing out here all day.'

(Continued on page 125.)