unatic.

"He's Mr. King, the man who helps me at Oxford, he dresses rather
funnily," Hubert explained.

"He bothers me when I am not well," the Professor added, but he did not
seem certain what line to take and kept his back turned to both of us.

"If you would only be well, he wouldn't bother you," Hubert said at
once.

"I am better than I used to be. You know how the weather upsets me, I
haven't had an afternoon off for six weeks. Ask Emily," and when he
turned round the tears were once more rolling down his cheeks, and I
was desperately afraid that I was in for a regular scene.

"You are nearly all right now," I said, "and I must be going if Hubert
will walk a little way with me."

He took my hand again and held it. "You will not think very badly of
an old man who has served his country," he said.

"No, but I do think you ought to be----" and then I stopped.

"What?"

"It's no business of mine."

"You are the son of the man who saved my life."

"Oh don't," I replied, and a tear dropping plump on the back of my hand
settled me. "I was going to say ashamed of yourself."

"To think that any one should say that in the presence of my son," he
said, and dropped my hand.

"I have said it a hundred times, but no one else has ever had the pluck
to," Hubert put in.

"Kick a worm when he doesn't turn," he said confusedly.

"That's all rot," I answered, and something compelled me to walk up to
him and tap him on the shoulder. "You aren't a worm, and I wouldn't
dare to kick you. Wouldn't dare, do you see; you're a fine, big chap,
why in heaven's name don't you pull yourself together? I don't know
much about it, but I'll bet it's worth it. A man like you oughtn't to
go crying like a baby."

"No sympathy," he moaned.

"Rot," I said again. "I shall tell my uncle about you, he'll be a
jolly useful friend."

"What's he?"

"A parson."

"Two pennuth of tea and a tract. No thanks," he shook his head
decidedly.

"He's not that kind. A man isn't bound to be an ass because he is a
parson."

"You seem to have kind of taken charge of me," he said.

"I don't mean any harm," and then, for it was no time for facts, I
added, "I like you, you are an awfully good sort, really."

"Me and the parson uncle," he said, and he gave a hoarse chuckle. "We
should do well in double harness. I'd pull his head off in about ten
minutes."

"May I ask him to call on you?"

"You'd better see what Hubert says. I'm