y. He had never before been encouraged
either to drink or to smoke; indeed, he had more than once complained
that his father seemed to forget he was now a grown-up man. What his
sudden cordiality meant he could not divine; but on general principles
he feared it. This did not prevent him from accepting both overtures
and sitting down on the other side of the fire. Mr. Walkingshaw asked
him a few questions about how he had spent the evening, always with the
same friendly air, till the young soldier began to suspect he had
negotiated some peculiarly fortunate business transaction. He became
emboldened to approach what he feared might prove a delicate subject.

"I'm thinking of running up to London for a week or two," he began.

"An excellent idea," said his parent. "It must be rather slow for you
here."

Frank got more and more encouraged.

"The only trouble is, I find myself rather short of funds."

"How much do you want?"

The going was too smooth to last, thought Frank. He became cautious.

"Oh, a tenner or so, I suppose," he suggested.

"A tenner!" exclaimed his father.

"Say a fiver, then," said Frank hurriedly.

"A fiver for a week or two in London? My dear boy, you don't know how to
do the thing at all. Your return ticket will cost you over three pounds;
supposing one averages your dinners at ten shillings a night for a
fortnight--that's seven pounds more; suppers, even if you supped alone"
(here he winked upon his startled offspring), "will run you at least as
much. Put railway and grub at thirty pounds--just to be safe. Then
you'll be going to theaters and music-halls, and taking cabs, and having
a week-end at Brighton--and the Lord knows what else. My hat, it will be
a spree!"

With sparkling eyes and a beaming smile he leant forward in his chair
and tapped his son upon the knee.

"I'll come with you, Frank."

"You!" gasped the poor youth.

"Yes," said Mr. Walkingshaw, apparently more to himself than to Frank,
"that's the way to set about it!"

He beamed upon his son confidentially.

"I've got a splendid idea, and you're just the very chap to help me. I
won't spoil sport, my boy, but I'll travel up with you--and, by Jove, we
might stop at the same hotel, if that wouldn't embarrass you. Would it?"

"N--no," said Frank, "n--not at all."

"Just what we were needing--a little blow-out in London, eh?"

Frank gave a little nervous laugh.

"Do you really mean it?"

Mr. Walkingshaw was now stan