“Oh yes,” impatiently; “and they have made their arrangements months ago. Mark cannot tack himself on to people, as you express it; it would not do at all. On the contrary, he must have some one tacked on to _him_. The trip will be a boon to my brother, as well as to your nephew. Poor Clarence loves India. He is frightfully hard up; he would be an ideal companion for Mark,” turning to him. “What do you say, Mark? Answer us quite frankly.” And under these circumstances what could Mark say but, “Yes; oh, certainly. Clarence is a good sort.” “And at any rate, _he_ can well be spared from home,” added Mr. Pollitt, dryly. “Then you will consent to Mark’s request, darling?” said his wife, rising and tapping him playfully with her big feather fan. “Think of all he will have to tell you, and of all the pretty things he will bring us.” “As long as he does not bring a _wife_!” growled the old gentleman. “Well, well, well, it is not often that you and Mark are on the same side in a debate, or that you second the resolution. When you combine, you are too strong for me. I’ll think it over.” Mrs. Pollitt gave her nephew by marriage a quick significant glance, for this speech distinctly showed that the bill before the (head of the) house had passed, and that it now only remained to go into a committee of ways and means. CHAPTER IX. PERMISSION TO TRAVEL. Mark Jervis had been agreeably surprised by his aunt’s enthusiastic co-operation; thanks to her powerful alliance, he had carried his point, and was to spend twelve months travelling in India, accompanied by Mrs. Pollitt’s brother, Captain Clarence Waring. The latter was about to revisit his former haunts in an entirely new character--that of mentor and companion to a young man--and, moreover, a wealthy young man. All the world has heard of “Pollitt’s Pearl Barley,” and “Pollitt’s Patent Fowls’ Food.” Are not its merits blazoned in flaming letters in railway stations, in fields bordering the rocking expresses that thunder through the land? Does not the name of “Pollitt” greet the miserable eyes of sea-sick travellers, as they stagger down the companion ladders of ocean greyhounds? In short, the enterprise of Daniel Pollitt, and the fame of Pollitt’s pearl barley, is of universal renown.