ce to a feeling of bitterness and
envy.

"Confound the fellow! he's always done just as he liked. I wish he was
here in my shoes for a bit. It isn't fair one chap should have such
luck, and another none at all. Little he cares what becomes of me. I
may rot here all my life, and no one troubles the toss of a button
whether I'm happy or miserable."

He was in the same ill-humour when he returned home to dinner. Mr.
Fenleigh was also out of temper, and seemed inclined to give vent to
his feelings by renewing the dispute which had commenced at the
breakfast-table. Father and son seldom met except at meals; and
unfortunately, on these occasions, the conversation frequently took the
form of bickering and complaint. Jack, as a rule, appeared sullenly
indifferent to what passed; this time, however, his smouldering
discontent burst out into a name of anger.

"I suppose you _were_ late this morning?"

"No, I wasn't."

"Humph! You said before you started that you were sick of the place,
and didn't care whether you lost it. If you do, I hope you won't
expect me to find you another berth."

"No, I'll find one myself."

"What d'you think you're good for? You're more likely to idle about
here doing nothing than find any other employment."

"I work harder than you do," said the son angrily.

"Hold your tongue, sir! If you can't treat me with some amount of
respect, you'd better leave the house."

"So I will. I'll go and enlist."

"You may go where you please. I've done the best I could for you, and
all the return I get is ingratitude and abuse. Now you can act for
yourself."

It was not the first time that remarks of this character had been fired
across the table. Jack made no reply, but at that moment his mind was
seized with a desperate resolve. Once for all he would settle this
question, and change the present weary existence for something more
congenial to his taste. All that afternoon he turned the plan over in
his thoughts, and his determination to follow it up grew stronger as
the time approached for putting it into execution. What if the move
were a false one? a person already in the frying-pan could but jump
into the fire; and any style of life seemed preferable to the one he
was now living. His father had told him to please himself, and, as he
had only himself to consider, he would do so, and follow the drum, as
had always been his inclination from childhood.

The big bell clanged out the