ook, a drawing, a note about Egypt--and he forgets
everything else. You should have called in the Temple this morning and
brought him on."

"Of course! I didn't think of that. Here, I'll go and fetch him at
once."

"No, no; give him time. Perhaps he will have been thinking so seriously
about poor Harry, that for once he will be punctual."

"Here he is!" cried Frank excitedly, as a thundering knock was heard at
the front door, and he sprang up in his anxiety to go and open to their
friend himself.

"No, no; don't do that," cried the doctor, smiling. "Sam would be
disgusted."

"Oh, I can't stop to think about Sam's feelings now," cried Frank
hurriedly.

"But you must keep cool. Look here, Frank, you are eighteen, and pretty
well a man grown."

"What has that to do with it?" said the lad impatiently.

"Only this," said the doctor gravely; "we want manly action now, and you
are as impatient as a boy of twelve."

At that moment the professor entered the room, hooked stick in hand, and
with his hat on, closely followed by the doctor's man, who stood with
one hand held out and a puzzled look on his face, staring at the
visitor, whose dress looked shabby and aspect wild, the want of what
fashionable young men term "well grooming"--to wit, shaving,
hair-cutting, and shampooing--making him appear ten years older than his
real age.

"Good morning, dear boys," he said, shaking hands warmly, and without
taking off his hat. "Well, what is it?"

He turned sharply upon Sam as he spoke.

"Your hat, sir," said the man hesitatingly.

"Well, what about it? It's mine, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir; of course, sir. I thought you'd like me to take it and hang
it up."

"Then you thought wrong," said the professor, and he so thoroughly
stared Sam out of countenance, that the man shrank from the fierce frown
and backed out of the room.

"Just as if a man can't do as he likes with his own hat," said the
professor, with his face relaxing, as he crossed to one of the easy
chairs, wheeled it forward, sat down, and then slipped off his hat,
thrust his hand inside, whisked something out, and placed hat and stick
under the table, before, with a good deal of flourish, he drew a very
dingy-looking old scarlet fez over his starting black hair, with the big
blue silk tassels hanging down behind, and settled himself comfortably
by drawing up first one and then the other leg across and beneath him,
_a la turque_.

"There," he said,