t this question.

"There ain't no need to think about it," answered Mat. "I mean to go
back; but I haven't settled what day yet. I've got something to do
first." His face darkened, and he glanced aside at the box which he
had brought from Dibbledean, and which was now covered with one of his
bearskins. "Never mind what it is; I've got it to do, and that's enough.
Don't you go asking again whether I've brought news from the country,
or whether I haven't. Don't you ever do that, and we shall sail along
together easy enough. I like you, Zack, when you don't bother me. If you
want to go, what are you stopping for? Why don't you clear out at once?"

Young Thorpe departed, laughing. It was a fine clear day, and the bright
sky showed signs of a return of the frost. He was in high spirits as he
walked along, thinking of Mat's wild adventures. What was the happiest
painter's life, after all, compared to such a life as he had just heard
described? Zack was hardly in the Laburnum Road before he began to doubt
whether he had really made up his mind to be guided entirely by Mr.
Blyth's advice, and to devote all his energies for the future to the
cultivation of the fine arts.

Near the turnpike stood a tall gentleman, making a sketch in a note-book
of some felled timber lying by the road side. This could be no other
than Valentine--and Valentine it really was.

Mr. Blyth looked unusually serious, as he shook hands with young Thorpe.
"Don't begin to justify yourself, Zack," he said; "I'm not going to
blame you now. Let's walk on a little. I have some news to tell you from
Baregrove Square."

It appeared from the narrative on which Valentine now entered, that,
immediately on the receipt of Zack's letter, he had called on Mr.
Thorpe, with the kindly purpose of endeavoring to make peace between
father and son. His mission had entirely failed. Mr. Thorpe had grown
more and more irritable as the interview proceeded; and had accused
his visitor of unwarrantable interference, when Valentine suggested the
propriety of holding out some prospect of forgiveness to the runaway
son.

This outbreak Mr. Blyth had abstained from noticing, out of
consideration for the agitated state of the speaker's feelings. But
when the Reverend Mr. Yollop (who had been talking with Mrs. Thorpe
up stairs) came into the room soon afterwards, and joined in the
conversation, words had been spoken which had obliged Valentine to leave
the house. The reiteration of