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ld be presentable amongst their fellows. But on the third day the confinement was growing irksome in the extreme; and the Doctor, after his daily visit, gave Singh permission to come down into the grounds if he liked. But the boy did not like. A glance at his companion in adversity revealed a disappointed look, and as soon as the Doctor was gone he picked up one of the books with which they were well supplied. "Well," said Glyn gloomily, "why don't you go down?" "Because I don't want to," was the reply; and no more was said. But that afternoon soon after dinner, which was brought up to them by the housekeeper on a folding-tray, and just when the irksomeness of their position was pressing hardest upon their brains, there was a quick step on the stairs, a sharp tap at the door, the handle was turned without any waiting for permission, and Wrench's head was thrust in. "I say, young gents," he cried, "here's a go!" "What's the matter?" asked Glyn anxiously. "Don't say Slegge's worse." "I wasn't going to, sir. It's something worse than that." "What?" "There's a gentleman along with the Doctor." "A gentleman!" cried the boys together. "Yes; a tall, military-looking gentleman, with long white starchers, and such a voice. He seemed as if he wanted to look me through. Fierce as fierce he was when he gave me his card to take in." "What was on the card?" cried Glyn excitedly. "Can't you guess, sir?" said the man, grinning. "Colonel Severn!" shouted Singh. "My father!" gasped Glyn. "Oh, Singhy! And us with faces like this!" CHAPTER THIRTEEN. BEFORE THE "STARCHERS." Singh ran across to the glass on the dressing-table. "Why, Glyn, we can't see him. I'm bad enough, but you are far worse. What's to be done?" "I dunno," cried Glyn. "Who in the world would have thought he was coming down here to-day!" "We are supposed to be in the infirmary, aren't we?" said Singh. "I say, couldn't we undress and go to bed?" "No," said Glyn promptly. "What difference would that make?" "Why, he'd think we were too ill to be seen." "Nonsense," cried Glyn. "Wouldn't he come up and see us all the same?" "Oh dear!" groaned Singh. "What a mess we are in! This comes of your fighting." "Well, who made me fight? Who began it?" "Well, I suppose it was I," said Singh; "but I couldn't stand still and let him knock us both about. Oh dear, what a lot of bother it all is!" "Here, I say,
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