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.
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