mean to compliment any one."

"You achieved it, however," said Bob. "You called them a pack of
dull dogs not fit to live with. Of course they feel charmed with
your opinion."

"Oh, I didn't," said Nesta.

"You inferred it," said Miss Chase. "However, we forgive you.
Fortunately we shan't be able to die of dullness entirely, because
there will be so much to be done preparing for the voyage."

"I vote Bob stays with us till we go," said Eustace.--"He would be
jolly useful, wouldn't he, mother?"

"Really, Eustace," remonstrated Mrs. Orban with a laugh, "I am
ashamed of you. Is that the way you treat your friends?"

Eustace reddened and looked uncomfortable as the laugh went round.
Glancing deprecatingly at Bob, he found that he was not even
smiling. It did seem a cheeky way of putting it.

"I beg your pardon," he began, when Bob interrupted quickly.

"No, don't. I was only thinking what a jolly thing you had said.
What are friends for if they are not to be made use of?"

"That is rather a dangerous theory to propound," said Mr. Orban.
"Supposing your friends take advantage of it--what then?"

"A real friend never would take advantage of it," said Bob with
certainty; "that is just how you can test him. The chap who will
take nothing from you, but only give, is a patronizing bounder; the
fellow who will give nothing to you, but only take, is a mean
beggar; the man who will give and take equally is your chum. Hold
on to him when you've got him."

"An excellent definition, Bob," said Mr. Orban, with a genial
smile. "We shall certainly never let you go."

There was a second's pause, then Bob said quietly,--

"Thank you, sir. I guess I shall hold on to all of you too."

It took Nesta to the end of breakfast to unravel the meaning of the
sudden gravity that had fallen over the party, and then she was not
sure of herself.

"Why, you silly," said Eustace, to whom she appealed in private,
"don't you see?--Father as good as said it--Bob is the right kind
of chap to have for a chum. And so he is. I guess I know that
better than any one."

"I don't see why you should," exclaimed Nesta jealously. "We all
know Bob; he isn't anybody's in particular. He said himself he
meant to hold on to _all_ of us, not just one person only."

Her tone was "snubby" in the extreme, but Eustace was utterly
silent for a moment.

Nesta did not know it; he would never know it himself; but there
was a big difference in Eustace nowadays