"Let me finish. I know I have your sympathy, my boy, and your best wishes, but all the sympathy and the good wishes in the world cannot alter the fiat which I fear has gone forth. Hear me, Frank. This has become a good practice now: it is a thousand pities that you should reject it and let it fall to a stranger." "But, if I get a better practice than this in London, Uncle Hugh?" he argued. "I mean, a more lucrative one." "But that is uncertain." "Not very uncertain," said sanguine Frank. "At any rate, you will have to pay for it. Pay in proportion to its merits." "Of course. But I can do that. Uncle Francis is going to make up my legacy to three thousand pounds, you know." "I know that he says so." "But--you can't doubt his word!" cried Frank, his eyes lifted again in genuine amazement. "Not his word, Frank: no, nor his intention: both are honest as the day. I only doubt his power." "His power! What, with all that accumulated money just dropped into his hands!" "But it has not yet dropped into them. It seems that a doubt exists as to where the money is, or even whether any exists at all." "Oh, Uncle Hugh, it is sure to be found. I dare say it has already turned up." "Well, I hope it has, Frank, and that you will reap all you expect. Let it pass so. Still, you must spend the money to ensure a practice; and the practice may not turn out as lucrative as you may be led to expect. The practice here is certain; you need not spend any money in securing it; and in a short time, a little sooner or a little later, it will be all in your hands." "Uncle Hugh, you are very generous, very thoughtful for me; but indeed I could not settle at Trennach. There are reasons----" Frank pulled up hastily. He was going on to say that for certain reasons this one small spot, in the whole length and breadth of the world's surface, was barred to him. Rather would he pass his life in some desert unfrequented by man, than within sight and sound of the Bare Plain. "I do not like Trennach," he went on. "I could not remain here. For the last two or three months," he added, in his candour, "I have been as restless as possible, wanting to get away from it." "You want to be amongst a more civilized community," said the doctor, good-naturedly. "Well--yes, Uncle Hugh. I do--when one is setting up for life." "Then there's nothing more to be said," concluded Dr. Raynor. So Frank held to his plan and his journey, and this morning was starting in pursuance of it. Never again, as he hoped, should he be living at Trennach. Just a few days, as it was arranged, he would remain to introduce the new doctor--who would probably come down when he did--to people and places; and then he would bid it farewell for ever, carrying Daisy with him.