olonel later that evening to his wife, spreading
his hands out as he spoke. "Yes, my dear, I _have_ made a discovery, and
an alarming one. You know, I'm rarely at fault where the children are
concerned--and I've noted all the symptoms with unusual care. James, my
dear, is an imaginative boy."

He paused to note the effect of his words, but seeing none, continued:

"I regret to be obliged to say it, but it's a fact beyond dispute. His
head is simply full of things, and he talked to me this evening about
tunnels and slippery moonlight till I very nearly lost my temper
altogether. Now, the boy will never make a man unless we take him in
hand properly at once. We must get him a governess, or something,
without delay. Just fancy, if he grew up into a poet or one of
these--these----"

In his distress the soldier could only think of horse-terms, which did
not seem quite the right language. He stuck altogether, and kept
repeating the favourite gesture with his open hand, staring at his wife
over his glasses as he did so.

But the mother never argued.

"He's very young still," she observed quietly, "and, as you have always
said, he's not a bit like other boys, remember."

"Exactly what I say. Now that your eyes are opened to the actual state
of affairs, I'm satisfied."

"We'll get a sensible nursery-governess at once," added the mother.

"A practical one?"

"Yes, dear."

"Hard-headed?"

"Yes."

"And well educated?"

"Yes."

"And--er--firm with children. She'll do for the lot, then."

"If possible."

"And a young woman who doesn't go in for poetry, and dreaming, and all
that kind of flummery."

"Of course, dear."

"Capital. I felt sure you would agree with me," he went on. "It'd be no
end of a pity if Jimbo grew up an ass. At present he hardly knows the
difference between a roadster and a racer. He's going into the army,
too," he added by way of climax, "and you know, my dear, the army would
never stand _that_!"

"Never," said the mother quietly, and the conversation came to an end.

Meanwhile, the subject of these remarks was lying wide awake upstairs in
the bed with the yellow iron railing round it. His elder brother was
asleep in the opposite corner of the room, snoring peacefully. He could
just see the brass knobs of the bedstead as the dying firelight quivered
and shone on them. The walls and ceiling were draped in shadows that
altered their shapes from time to time as the coals dropped softly int