eir houses, and broad country fields and lanes separated it
from the stir and din of London. Dr. Sandwith had a good practice,
but he had also a large family. Harry was at Westminster, going
backwards and forwards across the fields to school. So far he had
evinced no predilection for any special career. He was a sturdy,
well-built lad of some sixteen years old. He was, as his father
said, not likely to set the Thames on fire in any way. He was as
undistinguished in the various sports popular among boys in those
days as he was in his lessons. He was as good as the average, but
no better; had fought some tough fights with boys of his own age,
and had shown endurance rather than brilliancy.

In the ordinary course of things he would probably in three or four
years' time have chosen some profession; and, indeed, his father
had already settled in his mind that as Harry was not likely to
make any great figure in life in the way of intellectual capacity,
the best thing would be to obtain for him a commission in his
Majesty's service, as to which, with the doctor's connection among
people of influence, there would not be any difficulty. He had,
however, said nothing as yet to the boy on the subject.

The fact that Harry had three younger brothers and four sisters,
and that Dr. Sandwith, who was obliged to keep up a good position,
sometimes found it difficult to meet his various expenses, made
him perhaps more inclined to view favourably the offer he had
that morning received than would otherwise have been the case. Two
years before he had attended professionally a young French nobleman
attached to the embassy. It was from him that the letter which
had been the subject of conversation had been received. It ran as
follows:

"Dear Doctor Sandwith,--Since my return from Paris
I have frequently spoken to my brother, the Marquis of St. Caux,
respecting the difference of education between your English boys
and our own. Nothing struck me more when I was in London than your
great schools. With us the children of good families are almost
always brought up at home. They learn to dance and to fence, but
have no other exercise for their limbs, and they lack the air of
manly independence which struck me in English boys. They are more
gentil--I do not know the word in your language which expresses
it--they carry themselves better; they are not so rough; they are
more polite. There are advantages in both systems, but for myself I
like