made Grover suddenly feel, in relation to Bruff, as hopelessly Philistine as he had regarded Eric, in relation to himself. "Mild" had hurt. Of course Max was an exception to all rules; a genius to everybody but the uncle who, instead of sending him to Leipzic to study composition, was keeping him at a university greatly embarrassed by his presence. From time to time Max dropped in to play upon a piano worthy of his mettle. As he explained it, "Me hown is bysey at the bottom and trebley at the top, and has between a hay sharp and a hay flat there's little to choose; in fact the flats is sharp and the sharps is flat; ours is a nice 'ouse ours is."
"Do your worst," Eric advised somewhat savagely, preparing to leave. "You'd better get as much as you can out of life before they hang you."
"When they hang me it will be for slaying thee, oh thou superfluous pursuer of balls,—golf, tennis, foot, medicine, basket, and for all one knows, moth!"
Max's advent had brought Grover sharply to a sense of the immediate. He was debating a number of alternatives. Study was out of the question; so was the unfinished letter to Geoffrey; likewise tea with Rhoda's smart friends. He was merely temporizing in stopping to weigh them, for he knew quite well what he would end by doing. With a thrill he came at last face to face with one particular cascade that had been flowing more rapidly than he knew; his lake was getting full. Again he heard the delicious
