"Bad, that! All work and no play, you know but I'd better not enlarge on that axiom," broke off Sir Simon, "since my errand here is to give you more work. Of the boys whose names are down for the Orville, one comes to you daily, I hear." "Yes; Paradyne," replied Mr. Henry, feeling rather sensitive at mentioning the name which must be so unwelcome to the brother of the late Mrs. Trace. "Ay, Paradyne. You made an offer to my nephew, Raymond Trace, to take him also for the holidays, I hear. And he declined." "I should have been so glad to be of service to him!" returned Mr. Henry, his eyes lighting with the earnestness of the wish. "The prejudiced young jackass!" explosively cried Sir Simon. "Well, the loss is his. But now, I want you to make the same offer to another, one who won't refuse it; and that's Talbot—Lord Shrewsbury, as they call him. He's staying with me—you know it, perhaps—and he can come to you daily. The boy has only his education to look to in life; he does not possess a golden horde laid up in lavender to make ducks and drakes of when he comes of age, as some of the rascals do; and through those other two bright nephews of mine his studies were stopped for some four or five weeks. Will you take him?" "Yes, and gladly, Sir Simon. He—perhaps"—Mr. Henry paused and hesitated—"will have no objection to study with young Paradyne?" "He'd better not let me hear of it, if he has," retorted Sir Simon. "Why should he? Paradyne and his people have not hurt _him_. No, no; Talbot's another sort of fellow to that. And now, what shall we say about terms? Don't be afraid of laying it on, Mr. Henry; it's my treat." "I could not charge," said Mr. Henry, interrupting the cheering laugh. "Excuse me, Sir Simon; but I am not helping the boys for money. It would scarcely be an honourable thing. I am well paid by Dr. Brabazon; and any little assistance I can give them out of school is only their due." "But you are not paid to teach them Latin and Greek and mathematics. You have the right to make the most of your holidays." "I scarcely see that I have, so far as the college pupils are concerned. Let Talbot come to me at once, Sir Simon; but please say no more about payment. Robbing me of my time? No, indeed, not of a minute, if he comes with Paradyne: their studies are the same. As to any little trouble of my own, I would not think of accepting money for that. I am too glad to give it." Sir Simon nodded approvingly; he liked the generosity of the feeling, and shook Mr. Henry's hand heartily as he went out. "The cocked-up young Pharisee!" he soliloquized, apostrophizing the unconscious Trace, and dashing an enormous gig umbrella, that he had brought as a walking-stick, into the ground. "If ever there was an honest, honourable, good spirit, it's his I have just left. Mr. Trace and his uncharitable suspicions will get taken down some day, as sure as he is living."