s though he were seeing a youthful reflection of himself in the
sturdy spirit of resolution shown by his grandson.

"But, Eric, lad," he began to argue, "whether the Indians and bears are
plentiful or not, I don't see why you want to leave Oakdene, and go
away out to a wild place that is only fit for soldiers. You're quite
happy with us here, aren't you?" And the old gentleman's face took on
rather a reproachful expression as he put the question.

Eric's face flushed crimson, and crossing over to where the squire sat,
he bent down and kissed his wrinkled forehead tenderly.

"I am quite happy, grandpa. You and grandma do so much for me that it
would be strange if I wasn't. But you know I have been more with you
than I have with my own father; and now when he wants me to go out to
him, I want to go too. You can't blame me, can you?"

What Eric said was true enough. The doctor's regiment had somehow come
in for more than its share of foreign service. It had carried its
colours with credit over the burning plains of India, upon the
battle-fields of the Continent, and then, crossing to America, had
taken its part, however ineffectually, in the struggle which ended so
happily in the birth of a new nation. During all of his years Eric had
remained at Oakdene, seeing nothing of his father save when he came to
them on leave for a few months at a time.

These home-comings of the doctor were the great events in Eric's life.
Nothing was allowed to interfere with his enjoyment of his father's
society. All studies were laid aside, and one day of happiness
followed another, as together they rode to hounds, whipped the
trout-streams, shot over the coverts where pheasants were in plenty, or
went on delightful excursions to lovely places round about the
neighbourhood.

Dr. Copeland enjoyed his release from the routine of military duty
quite as much as Eric did his freedom from school, and it would not
have been easy to say which of the two went in more heartily for a good
time.

It was just a year since the doctor had last been home on leave, and a
year seems a very long time to a boy of fifteen, so that when the
letter came proposing that Eric should go out to his father (it should
have been told before that his mother was dead, having been taken away
from him when he was a very little fellow), and spend three long years
with him without a break, if the doctor had been in Kamtchatka or
Tierra del Fuego instead of simply