“Ah,” said his sister, “I strongly suspect something wrong about the boys. Fergus was very odd and silent last night when I asked him about Jem Horner’s picnic, and he said something about that Harewood cousin being an unmitigated brute.” “I hope Fergus was not in a scrape.” “Oh no, it is not his way. His geology is a great safeguard. If it had been Wilfred I might have been afraid.” “His head is full--at least as much room as the lost aralia leaves--of the examination for the Winchester College election.” “Yes, you know Jasper has actually promised Gillian that if either of her brothers gets a scholarship, she may be allowed a year at Lady Margaret Hall.” “Yes, it incited her to worry Wilfred beyond sufferance in his holidays. I know if you or Lily had been always at me I should have kicked as hard as he does.” “Lily herself can hardly cram him with his holiday task; but Fergus is a good little fellow.” “You have kept him at it in a more judgmatical way. But won’t Armytage come in between the damsel and her college?” “Poor Mr. Armytage--Captain, I believe, for he has got his commandership. Gill snubs him desperately. I believe she is afraid of herself and her heart.” “I hope she won’t be a goose. Jasper told me that he is an excellent fellow, and it will be an absolute misfortune if the girl is besotted enough to refuse him.” “Girls have set up a foolish prejudice against matrimony.” “Well, I am off. Clement Underwood is a reasonable man, and would not send for me without cause.” General Mohun came to that opinion when he heard of the scene on the beach, and of the absolute certainty that the contraband goods had been procured at Mrs. Schnetterling’s. Before his visit was over, a note came down on gold-edged, cyphered pink paper, informing the Reverend E. C. Underwood that Mrs. Campbell was much obliged to him for his attention to her son, who was very unwell, entirely from the effects of clotted cream. And while they were still laughing over the scored words, Anna knocked at the door with a message from her aunt, to ask whether they could come and speak to poor Mrs. Edgar, who was in a dreadful state. “It is not about Adrian, I hope?” said she. “Oh no, no, my dear; Adrian is all right, thanks to Fergus again,” said her uncle. “He is the boy’s great protector; I only wish they could be always together.”