capable of taking care of Roy as you are.
Now leave the room, and do not refer to the matter again."

Then Dudley astonished his grandmother by the first exhibition of
temper that he had ever displayed before her.

"I _won't_ be separated from Roy. If you send me to school, I shall run
away, and I shall write and tell father the reason!"

A stamp of the foot emphasized this passionate speech, and then Dudley
fled from the room, banging the door violently behind him.

As on a former occasion he now took himself and his grief to old
Principle. It was early-closing day in the village, and he found the old
man just locking up his door prepared for a ramble.

"Come along up to the hills with me, laddie," he said, after hearing the
trouble; "there's nothing like fresh air for blowing away a fit of the
dumps. I am going to the cave again--will you come with me?"

"Yes, I will. I've been in an awful temper in granny's room, and banged
her door. I don't think she'll ever forgive me!"

"'Tis like this, Master Dudley," said old Principle, presently, as they
walked over the hills together; "if it's right for you to go, there's
nothing to be said, and you must fall in with it whether you like it or
no."

"But it can't be right for me to leave Roy when he wants me."

"It may be the best thing in the world for him and you, if it is to be.
'Tis a bad principle to determine whether a thing is right or wrong,
according to our liking."

"It's a cruel thing to part us!" said Dudley, doggedly.

"But may be a way will be found out of the difficulty by Master Roy
going with you."

"They say he isn't strong enough. That wetting in the rain has made him
bad again."

"Well now I should ask the good Lord to make him strong enough. There's
time between this and Easter."

Dudley brightened up at once.

"Do you think he might be strong enough? I should be able to take great
care of him, and I would, too. And he's so plucky, that I'm sure the
other boys would be good to him."

The cave was reached, and in the interest of watching excavation going
on Dudley was soon his bright self again.

He came home radiant, with a match-box full of tiny shells for Roy who
was waiting for him in the nursery.

"You have been away a time," he said, wearily: "I'm sure I'm well enough
to go out now. I can't bear the winter. It means so many colds and
aches."

"Well, you're going to get better very soon, and look here, old chap! If
you try your