These were the Master's body-guard. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. Teddy overtook her, a little out of breath, his innocent face flushed, his straw-colored hair disordered. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious.
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