emaciation--'

Wilfrid and the twins showed amusement.

'To begin with,' pursued Mr. Athel, 'I hold that sweet food the first
thing in the morning is a mistake; the appetite is checked in an
artificial way, and impaired. Even coffee--'

'You would recommend a return to flagons of ale?' suggested Wilfrid.

'I am not sure that it wasn't better dietetically.'

Mrs. Rossall had taken an egg, but, after fruitlessly chipping at the
shell throughout this conversation, put down her spoon and appeared to
abandon the effort to commence her meal. Presently she broke silence,
speaking with some diffidence.

'I really think I will go to town with you, Philip,' she said. 'I want
some things you can't very well get me, and then I ought to go and see
the Redwings. I might persuade Beatrice to come to us for a day or two.'

'Do so by all means. You're quite sure,' he added with a smile, 'that I
couldn't save you the trouble of the journey? I have no objection to
visiting the Redwings.'

'I think it will be better if I go myself,' replied Mrs. Rossall, with a
far-off look. 'I might call on one or two other people.'

Having decided this point, she found herself able to crack the egg. The
anticipation of her day in London made her quite gay throughout the
meal.

The carriage was at the door by ten o'clock, to drive to Dealing, the
nearest station, some four miles away. The twins had gone upstairs with
Miss Hood to their lessons, and Wilfrid was sauntering about the hall.
His father paused by him on the way to the carriage.

'What do you propose to do with yourself, Wilf?' lie asked.

'Ride, I think.'

'Do. Go over to Hilstead and lunch there. Capital lunch they give you at
the inn; the last time I was there they cooked me one of the best chops
I ever ate. Oberon wants exercise; make a day of it.'

'Very well.'

'You're not looking quite so well, I'm afraid,' remarked his father,
with genuine solicitude in his tone. 'Haven't been reading, have you?'

'No.'

'No imprudences, mind. I must stop that porridge regimen; it doesn't
suit you. Ready, Edith?' he shouted heartily at the foot of the stairs.

Mrs. Rossall came down, buttoning her gloves.

'If I were you, Wilf,' she said, 'I'd go off somewhere for the day. The
twins will only worry you.'

Wilfrid laughed.

'I am going to eat unexampled chops at the "Waggoner" in Hilstead,' he
replied.

'That's right. Good-bye, my dear boy. I wish you'd get fatter.'

'Pooh, I