“Confound it, father,” said Eric, half irritably, half laughingly, “have you and David Baker entered into a conspiracy to hound me into matrimony whether I will or no?” “I’ve never said a word to David Baker on such a subject,” protested Mr. Marshall. “Well, you are just as bad as he is. He hectored me all the way home from the college on the subject. But why are you in such a hurry to have me married, dad?” “Because I want a homemaker in this house as soon as may be. There has never been one since your mother died. I am tired of housekeepers. And I want to see your children at my knees before I die, Eric, and I’m an old man now.” “Well, your wish is natural, father,” said Eric gently, with a glance at his mother’s picture. “But I can’t rush out and marry somebody off-hand, can I? And I fear it wouldn’t exactly do to advertise for a wife, even in these days of commercial enterprise.” “Isn’t there ANYBODY you’re fond of?” queried Mr. Marshall, with the patient air of a man who overlooks the frivolous jests of youth. “No. I never yet saw the woman who could make my heart beat any faster.” “I don’t know what you young men are made of nowadays,” growled his father. “I was in love half a dozen times before I was your age.” “You might have been ‘in love.’ But you never LOVED any woman until you met my mother. I know that, father. And it didn’t happen till you were pretty well on in life either.” “You’re too hard to please. That’s what’s the matter, that’s what’s the matter!” “Perhaps I am. When a man has had a mother like mine his standard of womanly sweetness is apt to be pitched pretty high. Let’s drop the subject, father. Here, I want you to read this letter--it’s from Larry.” “Humph!” grunted Mr. Marshall, when he had finished with it. “So Larry’s knocked out at last--always thought he would be--always expected it. Sorry, too. He was a decent fellow. Well, are you going?” “Yes, I think so, if you don’t object.” “You’ll have a pretty monotonous time of it, judging from his account of Lindsay.” “Probably. But I am not going over in search of excitement. I’m going to oblige Larry and have a look at the Island.” “Well, it’s worth looking at, some parts of the year,” conceded Mr. Marshall. “When I’m on Prince Edward Island in the summer I always understand an old Scotch Islander I met once in Winnipeg. He was always talking of ‘the Island.’ Somebody once asked him, ‘What island do you mean?’ He simply LOOKED at that ignorant man. Then he said, ‘Why, Prince Edward Island, mon. WHAT OTHER ISLAND IS THERE?’ Go if you’d like to. You need a rest after the grind of examinations before settling down to business. And mind you don’t get into any mischief, young sir.” “Not much likelihood of that in a place like Lindsay, I fancy,” laughed Eric.