Jock had likewise given up his old connections with fashionable life.
Several times, if anything were going on, or if he met a former
brother officer in the street, he would be warmly invited to come and
take his share, or to dine with the mess; he might have played in
cricket matches and would have been welcome as a frequent guest; but
he had made up his mind that this would only lead to waste of time
and money, and steadily declined, till the invitations ceased. It
would have cost him more had any come from Cecil Evelyn, but all that
had been seen of him was a couple of visiting-cards. The rest of the
family had not come to town for the season, and though the two
mothers corresponded as warmly as ever, and Fordham and Armine
exchanged letters, there was a sort of check and chill upon the
friendship between the two young girls, of which each understood only
her own half.
Jock said nothing, but he seemed to have grown mother-sick, spent all
his leisure moments in haunting his mother's steps, helping her in
whatever she was about, and telling her everything about his studies
and companions, as if she were the great solace of the life that had
become so much less bright to him.
In general he showed himself as droll as ever, but there were days
when, as John said, "all the skip was gone out of the Jack.
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