In the exuberance of my happiness, I have given him free leave to kiss Barbara and Tou Tou, but the poor man does not seem to be likely to have the chance. "Are not you going to speak to the general?" I say, nudging Barbara. "You have never said 'How do you do?' to him." Thus admonished, they recover their presence of mind and turn to salute him. There are no kissings, however, only some rather formal hand-shakings; and then Algy, as being possessed of the nearest approach to manners of the family, walks on with him. The other three adhere to me. "Well," say I, for the third time, holding Barbara by one hand, and resting the other on Bobby's stout arm, dressed in cricketing-flannel, while Tou Tou _backs_ before us with easy grace. "Well, and how is everybody? How is mother?" "She is all right!" "And HE? Is anybody in disgrace now? At least of course _somebody_ is, but _who_?" "_In disgrace!_" cries Bobby, briskly. "Bless your heart, no! we are 'Like the young lambs, A sporting about _by_ the side of their dams.' _In disgrace_, indeed! we are 'Barbara, child,' and 'Algy, my dear fellow,' and 'Bobby, love.'" "_Bobby!_" cries Tou Tou, in a high key of indignation at this monstrously palpable instance of unveracity, and nearly capsizing, as she speaks, into a rabbit-hole, which, in her backward progress--we are crossing the park--she has not perceived. "Well," replies Bobby, candidly, "that last yarn may not be _quite_ a fact, I own _that_; but I appeal to _you_, Barbara, is not it true _i' the main_? Are not we all 'good fellows,' and 'dear boys?'" "I am thankful to say that we are," replies Barbara, laughing; "but how long we shall remain so is quite another thing." "I have brought a present for him," say I, rather nervously; "do you think he will be pleased?" "He will say that he very much regrets that you should have taken the trouble to waste your money upon _him_, as he did last birthday, when we exerted ourselves to lay out ten shillings and sixpence on that spectacle-case," answers Bobby, cheerfully. "But what is it?" "What is it?" cry Barbara and Tou Tou in a breath. "It is a--a _traveling-bag_," reply I, with a little hesitation, looking imploringly from Barbara to Bobby. "Do you think he will like it?" "A _traveling-bag_!" echoes Bobby; then, a little bluntly, "but he never travels!" "No more he does!" reply I, feeling a good deal crestfallen. "I thought of that myself; it was not quite my own idea--it was the general's suggestion!" "The general!" says Bobby, "whew--w!" (with a long whistle of intelligence)--"well, _he_ ought to know what he likes and dislikes, ought not he? He ought to understand his tastes, being the same age, and having been at schoo--"