Mr. Boniface was sitting at his writing-table, the sunlight fell on his quiet, refined face, lighted up his white hair and trim beard, and made his kindly gray eyes brighter than ever. “I wanted a few words with you, Falck,” he said. “Sit down. It seems to me that you have not been looking well lately, and I thought perhaps you had better take your holiday at once instead of the third week in August. I have spoken to Darnell, and he would be willing to give you his turn and take the later time. What do you think?” “You are very good, sir,” said Frithiof, “but I shall do very well with the August holiday, and, as a matter of fact, it will only mean that I shall do more translating.” “Would you not do well to go home? Come, think of it, I would give you three weeks if you want to go to Bergen.” Frithiof felt a choking sensation in his throat, because it was of the old life that he had been dreaming all the morning with a restless, miserable craving. “Thank you,” he said, with an effort, “but I can not go back to Norway.” “Now, tell me candidly, Falck, is it the question of expense that hinders you?” said Mr. Boniface. “Because if it is merely that, I would gladly lend you the money. You must remember that you have had a great deal to bear lately, and I think you ought to give yourself a good rest.” “Thank you,” replied Frithiof, “but it is not exactly the expense. I have money enough in hand to pay for my passage, but I have made up my mind not to go back till I can clear off the last of the debts of—of our firm,” he concluded, with a slight quiver in his voice. “It is a noble resolution,” said Mr. Boniface, “and I would not for a moment discourage you. Still you must remember that it is a great undertaking, and that without good health you can never hope for success. I don’t think you get enough exercise. Now, why don’t you join our cricket club?” “I don’t play,” said Frithiof. “In Norway we are not great at those games, or indeed at any kind of exercise for the mere sake of exercise. That is an idea that one only finds among Englishmen.” “Possibly; but living in our climate you would do well to follow our habits. Come, let me persuade you to join the club. You look to me as if you needed greater variety.” “I will think about it for next year; but just now I have work for Herr Sivertsen on hand which I can’t put aside,” said Frithiof. “Well, then, things must go on as they are for the present,” said Mr. Boniface; “but at least you can bring your translating down to Rowan Tree House, and spend your holiday with us.” “You are very kind,” said Frithiof, the boyish expression returning to his face just for a minute. “I shall be only too delighted.” And the interview seemed somehow to have done him good, for during the next few days he was less irritable, and found his work in consequence less irksome. CHAPTER XVI.