"First rate," said Jetty. "They had a great party this afternoon; one of those new-fashioned kettledrums. Such an entertainment it was! such fine dresses!" "I thought the son, Charles Raynor, was keeping his terms at Oxford," resumed the Tiger, after giving himself time to digest the information touching the kettledrum. "Why is he not keeping this term?" "Well, sir," said Jetty, beginning to answer in his usual favourite mode, and lowering his voice, though they were quite alone on the common: "I believe Mr. Charles can't show his face at Oxford until he is better up in funds; so he is omitting this term." "Debts--eh?" cried the Tiger, but without any appearance of surprise. "And the major has not the funds to spare for them?" "Well, sir, that's to be inferred." "Meanwhile the lad fills up his days and hours at home with dancing, and smoking, and kettledrums, and other good-for-nothing amusements. A nice way of spending one's life!" "Young men will be young men, sir--though they are but lads," spoke Jetty, deprecatingly. "Yes; young men will be young men: some of them, at any rate," came the mocking retort. "But in all my days I never saw a young man who appeared more likely to go straight down to ruin than Charles Raynor." CHAPTER V. SIR PHILIP'S MISSION. Major Raynor sat in his favourite seat on the lawn at Eagles' Nest, at drowsy peace with himself and with the world. Of late the major had always been drowsy: morning, noon, and night, no matter what company he was in, he might be seen nodding. Frank, as a medical man, did not like the signs. He spoke to his uncle of the necessity of rousing himself, of taking more exercise, of indulging somewhat less in good luncheons and dinners. The major made an effort to obey: for two days he actually walked about the lawn for twenty minutes, refused two rich entrées, took at each meal one glass less of wine. But the efforts ended there, and on the third day the major gave up reformation as a bad job. "It's of no use, Frank, my boy. You young folk can be upon the run all day if you choose, and live upon bread-and-cheese and beer; but we old ones require ease; we can't be put about." So the major sat at ease this day as usual, lazily thinking, and dropping into a doze. A letter had been received that morning from Edina, in answer to an invitation from Major and Mrs. Raynor to come and make her home with them now that she was alone in the world. Edina declined it for the present. She was staying at Trennach parsonage with Mr. and Mrs. Pine: her plans were not decided upon; but the clergyman and his wife would not yet spare her. She had many affairs to settle at Trennach. Mr. Hatman had taken to the practice, as had been arranged, and to the house; but Edina could not leave the place at present. She hoped to pay Eagles' Nest a visit in the course of the summer.