ind them. And now they are all gone, and that is enough about me,
and too much. Jack, sit down on that stool; draw it close, so that I can
see you in the firelight. So! And you are there, Hilda?"

"On the other stool!" said Hildegarde. "Here we are, love, close beside
you."

"That is good! And now, Odysseus, let us hear! Mr. Ferrers has the
floor."

"He certainly has a good deal of it!" said Jack, looking rather ruefully
at his long legs, which did extend a prodigious distance along the
hearth-rug.

"What do you think of my having grown two whole inches since I went
away? I call it a shame! Uncle Tom measured me with his stick before I
had been in the house five minutes; six feet four! It is disgraceful,
you know!"

"Dear Colonel Ferrers!" cried Hildegarde. "Isn't he coming soon, to tell
us how happy he is? Why, Jack, do you know, he was so funny about you
last night! I asked when you were coming, and he quite growled, the
dear, and called you irresponsible, and wouldn't tell us a thing."

"Of course he wouldn't! Spoil my surprise, that I had planned so
carefully? It is well he did not! But he told me about it, too,--about
last night, I mean. He said you would persist in asking questions, and
looking straight at him as you asked them, so that his only refuge was
in gruffness. Yes, Hilda, he is coming over after tea,--I may stay to
tea, mayn't I? He--I thought they wouldn't mind being alone for a
bit,--Oh, wait! I haven't come to that yet. Where shall I begin? Come
back to Leipsic with me, will you?"

Both ladies signified their willingness to take the voyage at once.

"I have spread the magic carpet!" cried Jack. "Be seated, if you please!
Whisk! Presto! Behold us in Leipsic. _Mesdames_, let me have the honour
of presenting you to Herr J,----the greatest living violinist. Herr
Professor, these are the people I love best in the world, except two.
Well, you see it is very simple, after all. The Maestro was going on a
tour in Russia; was invited to play before the Czar, and all kinds of
things. He will be gone all winter; so he said, why should I not come
home and see my father and uncle, and talk over plans with them? He--the
Maestro--wants me to work for the Royal Medal. It's only given out once
in three years, and it's a pretty big thing, but he thinks I would
better try for it. I--did I write you about the scholarship I got? No?
Well, I think I did, but it must have been in my last letter, and Uncle
Tom think