Part 19 (2/2)

”I hope so,” said Mr Philip.

”But you don't care about such things, do you?” asked Jessie.

”I ought to care, ought I not?”

”Yes; but you ought not just to make believe care.”

Mr Philip laughed a little.

”There is no make believe about it. I shall like to go to-morrow very much.”

They were all away from the table by this time, and Frank sat down with David on the window seat. He put his arm round his shoulder, boyish fas.h.i.+on, and laid his head down upon it.

”Is it military duty you are doing, Davie, down in Muddy Lane?” said he, softly.

All the talk that had been going on had put David out a good deal, and he did not answer for a minute. It seemed to him that a great deal had been made of a little matter, and he was not well pleased.

”Don't you remember about the 'armour,'” said Frank.

”Don't Frank?” said David. It hurt him to think that Frank should make a jest of that.

”Indeed I am not jesting, Davie. That is one way of fighting the good fight--is it not? And I want to have a good long talk about it again.”

”With mamma, you mean.”

”Yes, and with you. Don't you remember Hobab and old Tim?”

David did not answer in words, and both the boys sat silent, while the others grew eager in discussing quite other things. It was growing dark, and Philip decided that it would be better to leave the boat and walk home. Then something was said about future sails, and then Philip told them of a friend of his who was going to be one of a party who were to explore the country far west. He was going to try and persuade his father to let him join it. It was an exploring company, but a good many were to join it for the sake of the hunting and fis.h.i.+ng, and the adventures that might fall in their way. They were to be away for months, perhaps for the whole summer, and a great deal of enjoyment was antic.i.p.ated. Jem listened intently.

”That would just suit me, mamma,” said he, with a sigh.

”I dare say it would be pleasant for a while,” said she, smiling.

”It would hardly suit you to lose a summer out of your life, Jem,” said David, sharply.

Jem whistled.

”You are there! are you, David? No, that wouldn't suit me, exactly.”

”Lose a year out of his life! What can you mean?” said Mr Philip, in astonishment.

”What would come out of such a summer, except just the pleasure of it?”

said David.

”Well! there would be a great deal of pleasure. What else would you have?”

David made no answer.

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