How unspeakably delightful it must be, thought Dick enviously, to be
grown up and never worried by the thoughts of school and lesson-books;
to be able to look forward to returning to the same comfortable house,
and living the same easy life, day after day, week after week, with no
fear of a swiftly advancing Black Monday.

Gloomy moralists might have informed him that we cannot escape school by
simply growing up, and that, even for those who contrive this and make
a long holiday of their lives, there comes a time when the days are
grudgingly counted to a blacker Monday than ever made a school-boy's
heart quake within him.

But then Dick would never have believed them, and the moralists would
only have wasted much excellent common sense upon him.

Paul Bultitude's face cleared as he saw his son come in. "There you are,
eh?" he said, with evident satisfaction, as he turned In his chair,
intending to cut the scene as short as possible. "So you're off at last?
Well, holidays can't last for ever--by a merciful decree of Providence,
they don't last quite for ever! There, good-bye, good-bye, be a good boy
this term, no more scrapes, mind. And now you'd better run away, and put
on your coat--you're keeping the cab waiting all this time."

"No, I'm not," said Dick, "Boaler hasn't gone to fetch one yet."

"Not gone to fetch a cab yet!" cried Paul, with evident alarm, "why, God
bless my soul, what's the man thinking about? You'll lose your train! I
know you'll lose the train, and there will be another day lost, after
the extra week gone already through that snow! I must see to this
myself. Ring the bell, tell Boaler to start this instant--I insist on
his fetching a cab this instant!"

"Well, it's not my fault, you know," grumbled Dick, not considering so
much anxiety at all flattering, "but Boaler has gone now. I just heard
the gate shut."

"Ah!" said his father, with more composure, "and now," he suggested,
"you'd better shake hands, and then go up and say good-bye to your
sister--you've no time to spare."

"I've said good-bye to them," said Dick. "Mayn't I stay here till--till
Boaler comes?"

This request was due, less to filial affection than a faint desire for
dessert, which even his feelings could not altogether stifle. Mr.
Bultitude granted it with a very bad grace.

"I suppose you can if you want to," he said impatiently, "only do one
thing or the other--stay outside, or shut the door and come in and sit
down q