ean and homely.

Before the young people had finished, the doctor rose and went tramping
out.

"Good morning," said he at the door, breaking the spell of silence.
Inna, rising, wished to spring toward him, but he was gone.

"There, he's safe till two o'clock," sighed Oscar.

"Safe?" said Inna.

"Yes; booked with his patients, you know. Some say he has patients on
the brain. I wish them joy of him."

"Don't--don't you like him?" she inquired falteringly.

"Do you?" asked the other, helping himself to an egg.

"I ought."

"Ought! I can't bear that word ought: 'tis dinned into my ears morning,
noon, and night. Now, I tell you what we'll do: we'll fling 'ought' to
the winds, and go a nutting expedition this morning."

In came Mrs. Grant.

"Well, Master Oscar, I should hope you'd go down to Mr. Fane's for
lessons to-day," said she.

"I can't; I've a prior engagement," said he, as loftily as a mouth full
of bread and butter and egg could utter it.

"And what's that, may I ask?"

"I've made a promise to a lady to go elsewhere."

"Oh, Oscar! never mind me; you ought to do your lessons, you know."

"I thought we flung that horrid word to the winds just now. There's no
ought in the case; I had a holiday yesterday, and I mean to to-day. I
mean to take Inna to Black Hole, and round through the woods, on a
nutting expedition--so there!"

This last to Mrs. Grant.

"Very well, Master Oscar; I shall have to set the doctor on to you
again. I hope, Miss Inna, you'll be a good little influence with him and
teach him to obey his uncle."

Oscar laughed, pushed back his plate, and left the table. "Now, Inna,
run and put on your hat and jacket, and we'll be off," said he to the
little girl.

"Go, dear," said the housekeeper, as the child hesitated. "I suppose he
means all right for this once, but he must take the consequence;" and
away went Inna for hat and jacket, wondering if it was right to go.

When she came down, Oscar showed her a packet of sandwiches in the
nutting basket, which Mrs. Grant had cut for them to eat if they were
hungry.

"She isn't a bad sort; her bark is worse than her bite," said Oscar of
her, when the two were well on their way.

On and on--over stubble fields they went, till by-and-by they were
taking a short cut through a carriage drive in Owl's Nest Park, as Oscar
informed Inna. It was a pretty bowery walk, overarched with beeches and
elms in all their autumn glory, and full of the cla