"Got out of the way of doing things. Hasn't walked down the hill and back for three years. He told me so himself." "Indeed, sir?" "For my part," Dr. Lavendar declared, "I have made a rule about such things, which I commend to you, young man: _As soon as you feel too old to do a thing_, DO IT!" William gave the expected laugh. "But he does seem shaken. Now, would it be safe, do you think, for him to--well, very much excited? Possibly angered?" "It wouldn't take much to anger Mr. Wright." "No, it wouldn't," Dr. Lavendar admitted. "William, suppose I could induce Samuel and his father to meet--" "What!" The doctor woke up at that; he sat on the edge of his chair, his hands on his knees, his eyes starting in his head. "_What!_" "Well, suppose I could?" Dr. Lavendar said. "I have a notion to try it. I don't know that I'll succeed. But suppose they met, and things shouldn't run smoothly, and there should be an explosion--would there be danger to Benjamin?" William King whistled. "After all these years!" Then he reflected. "Well, of course, sir, he is an old man. But he is like iron, Dr. Lavendar. When he had quinsy two years ago, I thought he had come to the end. Not a bit of it! He's iron. Only, of course, anger is a great drain. Better caution Sam not to cross him." "Then there would be some danger?" "I shouldn't like to see him get into a rage," the doctor admitted. "But why should he get into a rage, if they are going to patch things up? Good Lord!" said William King, gaping with astonishment; "at last!" "I haven't said they would patch things up. But there is a chance that I can get 'em to talk over Benjamin's anxiety about Sam's Sam. Fact is, Benjamin is disturbed about the boy's sheep's-eyes. Sam thinks, you know, that he is in love with Mrs. Richie, and--" "In love with Mrs. Richie!" William broke in angrily. "The idea of his bothering Mrs. Richie! it's outrageous. I don't wonder Mr. Wright is concerned. It's disgraceful. He ought to be thrashed!" Dr. Lavendar drew a quick breath and let his pipe-hand fall heavily on the table beside him. "No, William, no; not thrashed. Not thrashed, William." "Well, I don't know," the doctor said, doggedly; "it might do him good; a squirt of a boy!" Dr. Lavendar sighed. They smoked silently for a while, and, indeed, it was not until it was almost time to go home that William burst out with his own wrongs. "Confound him!" he ended, "what do you make of it, sir? Why, Dr. Lavendar, he sent his girl out of the room--didn't want her to talk to me! You'd have thought I was a case of measles. His one idea was to get rid of me as quickly as possible." Dr. Lavendar thrust out his lower lip; then he scratched a match on the bottom of his chair, and held it out to Danny, who came forward with instant curiosity, sniffed, sneezed, and plainly hurt, retired to the hearth-rug. "William, 'a moral, sensible and well-bred man will not affront--'" "I'm not feeling affronted." "Oh, aren't you?"