whole
biscuit skimming and making ducks and drakes on the surface of the
water; but the living ducks and drakes soon ended that performance and
followed the pair in vain. For Andrew Forbes had suddenly become very
thoughtful; while his companion also had his fit of musing, which ended
in his saying to himself:

"I wish I was as clever as they are. It almost seemed as if they meant
something more than they said. It comes from living in London I
suppose, and perhaps some day I shall get to be as sharp and quick as
they are. Perhaps, though, it is all nonsense, and they meant nothing.
But I wish Drew had not said we'd go. I'm not a man, and what do I want
at a club? I don't know anything that they'd want to know, living as I
do shut up in the Palace." But there Frank Gowan was wrong, for what
went on at Saint James's Palace in the early days of the eighteenth
century was of a great deal of interest to some people outside, and he
never forgot the feeding of the ducks.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

HOW FRANK GOWAN GREW ONE YEAR OLDER IN ONE DAY.

"I Seem to have so many things to worry me," thought Frank. "Any one
would think that in a place like this without lessons or studies there
would be no unpleasantries; but as soon as I've got the better of one,
another comes to worry me."

This was in consequence of the invitation for the following Monday. His
mind was pretty well at ease about his confidential talk with his
father; but he was nervous and uncomfortable about the visit to the
club, and several times over he was on the point of getting leave to go
across to Sir Robert to ask his opinion as to whether he ought to go.

"I can't go and bother my mother about such a thing as that," he mused.
"I ought to be old enough now to be able to decide which is right and
which is wrong. Drew thinks and talks like a man, while it seems to me
that I'm almost a child compared to him.

"Well, let's try. Ought I to go, or ought I not? There can't be any
harm to me in going. There may be some friends of Drew's whom I shan't
like; but if there are I needn't go again. It's childish, when I want
to become more manly, to shrink from going into society, like a great
girl.--I'll go. If there's any harm in it, the harm is likely to be to
Drew, and--yes, of course; I could save him from getting into trouble.

"Then I ought to go," he said to himself decisively, and he felt at
ease, troubling himself little more about the matter, bu