"And she was good enough to write back that it was just what she wanted; for several of the children--most of them, I should say--couldn't read, but they liked looking at pictures. And then she was kind enough to add that if I went down next Sunday, she would take me to see how the things had been distributed--the pictures hung up on walls, and so forth--and--and that's why I think I may go down." "Oh, yes, certainly," Lionel said, though he did not understand why any such excuse was necessary. "Couldn't you come down, too, Linn?" Mangan suggested. "Oh, no, I couldn't, I'm so busy," was the immediate reply. "I'm going to Scotland the first or second week in August. The doctor advises me to give my voice a long rest; and the Cunynghams have asked me to their place in Ross-shire. Besides, I don't care about singing in London when there's nobody but country cousins, and none too many of them. Of course I'll have to go down and bid the old folks good-bye before starting for Scotland, and Francie, too. Mind you tell that wicked Francie that I am very angry with her for not having come up to see 'The Squire's Daughter.'" "Linn," said his friend, after a second, "why don't you take the old people over to Aix or some such place for a month? They're so awfully proud of you; and you might take Miss Frances as well; she seems to work so hard--she deserves a rest. Wouldn't that be as sensible as going to Scotland?" "My good chap, I would do that in a moment--I should be delighted," said he--for he was really a most generously disposed young man, especially as regarded money; time was of greater consideration with him. "But it's no use thinking of such a thing. The old folks are much too content with home; they won't travel. And Francie--she wouldn't come away from those precious babes. Well, I'm off. Mind you scold Francie for me!" "Perhaps," said Mangan, as he accompanied his friend to the door.