"Mr. Thomas Thurnall! I will not endure this! Why are you always making me your butt,--insulting me, sir, even in your father's house? You do not understand me; and I do not care to understand you. If my presence is disagreeable to you, I can easily relieve you of it!" and the dark youth turned to go away like Naaman, in a rage. "Stop, John," said the Doctor. "I think it would be the more courteous plan for Tom to relieve you of his presence. Go and find Mark, Tom; and please to remember that John Briggs is my guest, and that I will not allow any rudeness to him in my house." "I'll go, daddy, to the world's end, if you like, provided you won't ask me to write poetry. But Jack takes offence so soon. Give us your hand, old tinder-box! I meant no harm, and you know it." John Briggs took the proffered hand sulkily enough; and Tom went out of the glass door, whistling as merry as a cricket. "My dear boy," said the Doctor, when they were alone, "you must try to curb this temper of yours. Don't be angry with me, but--" "I should be an ungrateful brute if I was, sir. I can bear anything from you. I ought to, for I owe everything to you; but--" "But, my dear boy--'better is he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city.'" John Briggs tapped his foot on the ground impatiently. "I cannot help it, sir. It will drive me mad, I think at times,--this contrast between what I might be, and what I am, I can bear it no longer--mixing medicines here, when I might be educating myself, distinguishing myself--for I can do it; have you not said as much yourself to me again and again?" "I have, of course; but--" "But, sir, only hear me. It is in vain to ask me to command my temper while I stay here. I am not fit for this work; not fit for the dull country. I am not appreciated, not understood; and I shall never be, till I can get to London,--till I can find congenial spirits, and take my rightful place in the great parliament of mind. I am Pegasus in harness, here!" cried the vain, discontented youth. "Let me but once get there,--amid art, civilisation, intellect, and the company of men like that old Mermaid Club, to hear and to answer-- 'words, So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As one had put his whole soul in a jest;'-- and then you shall see whether Pegasus has not wings, and can use them too!" And he stopped suddenly, choking with emotion, his nostril and chest dilating, his foot stamping impatiently on the ground. The Doctor watched him with a sad smile. "Do you remember the devil's temptation of our Lord--'Cast thyself down from hence; for, it is written, He shall give His angels charge over thee?" "I do; but what has that to do with me?"