of you be in the humour for writing
right away there in some forest."

"Oh, of course, uncle," cried Dean, "we shan't have a chance to sit down
at a table to write, but we shall take each of us a writing case."

"Humph! Will you? I doubt it, boy; and even if you did you wouldn't be
able to get at it when you were in the humour to write; and then if you
did scrawl something with a pencil on a scrap of paper, where would you
post your letter? In some hollow tree, or tuck it in a bladder and send
it floating down a river with a direction scratched on a tin label?
Bah! The doctor will take you right away into some wilds, and I shall
get no letter for months, and months, and months."

"Oh, father," said Mark sadly, "I never thought of that! It would be
hard, dad; and it seems selfish. It's all over. I shan't go."

"Oh!" said Sir James, trying to frown very severely, and forcing a very
peculiar husky cough. "Dear, dear, how tiresome!" he cried. "Haven't
got a lozenge in your pocket, have you, Dean?"

"No, uncle. Shall I get you a glass of water?"

"No, sir," almost shouted his uncle. "You know I hate cold water.
Dear, dear! Barking like this, just as if something has gone the wrong
way!" And the baronet pulled out a big silk handkerchief and began
blowing his nose violently. "Ah, that's better now. Can't be cold
coming on. Ah, much better now."

Then next moment he had clapped his hand smartly down on Mark's
shoulder, and the doctor noticed that he kept it there, while there was
an artificial ring in his voice as he continued, "Oh, you won't go, sir,
won't you?"

"No, father," cried the boy firmly, and he gave his prisoned shoulder a
hitch as if to free himself from the pressure, which immediately grew
tighter.

"Oh, that's it, is it, sir? Now that I have made up my mind to it and
am going to start you all off with a first class equipment, you tell me
you are going to play the disobedient young dog, and plump out in a most
insolent way--you heard him doctor?--that you won't go!"

"Oh, I must say on his behalf, Sir James," cried the doctor, "that he
did not strike me as being insolent."

"Then you could not have been listening, sir, attentively," retorted Sir
James. "I look upon it as disobedient and undutiful and--and cowardly."

"Oh, father! cowardly!" cried Mark, making another unsuccessful attempt
to set his shoulder free. "How could it be cowardly?"

"Why, sir, if there's any selfishness