on for
the children's sake, but we have arranged to return home a week from
Monday, and I almost fear my husband's engagements will not permit him
to remain another day."

"Very well, Mrs. Clair; a week will, I think, be sufficient for our
purpose. I'll find out in that time what the lads are really made of.
I've had so many boys grow up under my eye, that I can read them pretty
accurately now, and what's more, study them when they least imagine I'm
thinking of them. As for your husband, he wants three months' complete
rest, and a cruise to the Mediterranean in my yacht; and he _shall_ have
it, later on!" and Mr. Murray seeming as if he were in a fearful passion
with some one, frowned quite terribly, and shook his head fiercely,
whereas he was only making a very kind and generous proposal to a poor
artist, who could never afford more than a brief holiday, and always
had, so to speak, to carry his profession along with him. Mr. Clair,
however, did not seem very pleased with the suggestion, however much he
might like it--and in his own mind he felt that he really needed just
such a complete rest and change of scene, soft climate, and freedom from
all care and anxiety, to enable him to shake himself free from a strange
feeling of dulness and languor that had been stealing over him lately,
and a sort of mental depression that was harder to bear than actual
illness. But three months away from his pupils and work seemed
absolutely out of the question to Mr. Clair, therefore he did not let
his mind dwell on it, but returned to the question of the children.

[Illustration: "THEY CAME TO THE LITTLE GROUP" (_p. 229_).]

"While I thank you for your very kind proposal, Mr. Murray, I'll make no
promises; let the boys choose for themselves. Bertie, of course, must
obtain his Uncle Gregory's permission, as he promised, without fail, to
be back at the office on Monday morning. I will not ever stand in the
way of the boys' pleasure or profit, but I think it is truer kindness to
have them go along quietly on the paths they have chosen. Bertie is
happy and contented enough now, but he's a high-spirited lad, fond of
the sea almost passionately; a voyage, be it ever so short, may unsettle
his mind for the office. Eddie is discontented enough already; I don't
really see what good can come of it. Of course, I don't really think
that either of the boys is going to make his fortune, recover
Riversdale, and live there in peace and plenty, ease