“Yes, go,” said the Colonel, angrily. He was himself sorry for that last insinuation as soon as his son had left the room. His angry suspiciousness had carried him too far. Not that he blamed himself for the suspicion, but he was aware that to speak of it was a false step and could do no good. If there was a woman in the case, that flying dart would not move the young man to penitence or turn him from any dangerous way. Colonel Kingsward, however, quickly forgave himself for this inadvertence, and reflected with satisfaction that, at least, he had prevented the young fool from making an ass of himself for this summer. And in such cases absence is the best remedy and hinders much mischief. Charlie rejected with indignation the week in town which his father offered. “A week in town!” he said to Bee, contemptuously, “to waste my time and debase all my ideas! What does he think I want with a week in town? That’s the way a fellow’s father encourages him to do the best he can. Cuts off all inspiration, and throws one on the dregs of life! It’s enough to make a man kick over the traces altogether.” “But, Charlie,” said Bee, with timidity, “don’t you think it’s very, very quiet here. We have nothing to disturb us. If you were to try to do your work at home?--you would have the library to sit in all the week while papa is in town.” “Out of reach of books, out of reach of any coach--it’s like telling a mason to build a wall without any stone.” “The library is full of books,” said Bee, with a little indignation. “What kind of books? Military books, and travels, and things for reference--old peerages, and so forth--and some of the heavy old reviews, and a few novels. Much good a man who is going in for real reading would get out of those!” “But you have your own books--all those that you carry about with you, Charlie.” “Oh!” he said, with impatience, “What are they? Horrible cribs and things, that I promised not to use any more.” “Does Laura,” said Bee, with a little awe, “say you are not to use cribs?” “And as for the quiet,” said Charlie, continuing his strain of complaint, “if you call that quiet! When you never know that next moment there may not be a rush down the nursery stairs like wild horses let loose, and shrieks all over the house for Bee or for nurse, sending every idea out of a man’s head; or else baby screaming fit to bring down the house. You know nothing about it, to be sure; it is like talking to the wind to talk to a little thing like you. A man can’t work unless he’s in the right place for working. If any difficulty arises in a passage, for instance, what do you think I am to do here?” “Do you go to---- Laura, when there is a difficulty about a passage, Charlie?”