“What!” cried Sir Matthew. “Go on the stage? Oh, that’s just a passing fancy. No gentleman can take up play-acting as a profession. No, no, I don’t send you to Winchester to fit you for such a trumpery calling as that. If you’ll not be a parson what do you say to trying for the Indian Civil Service? I’m much mistaken if you have not very good abilities, and for a man who has to make his own way in the world, why India is the right place.” “I should like to go to India,” said Ralph, thinking of certain tales of jungle life and thrilling adventures with man-eating tigers that he had lately read. “Very well,” said Sir Matthew briskly, “that’s decided then. To Winchester for six years, then a choice of the Church or the Indian Civil Service. There’s your future my boy, and I will see you fairly started in life whichever line you choose. To-morrow you shall come back with me to London, so run off now and let them get your things together, and Mr. Marriott and I will make all the necessary arrangements with regard to your father’s effects.” Not sorry to be dismissed, Ralph made his way upstairs, where he found the housekeeper already busy with his packing. She made him collect what few possessions he had, two or three pictures, some tools, some books and a toy boat; but what she termed “the rubbish,” such as bird’s eggs, mosses, fossils, imperfect models of engines, and such like, she entirely declined to handle. “The rubbish” must be left, and Ralph with an odd sinking of the heart, as he remembered how short was the time remaining to him, began his sad round of farewells. He stole quietly up to the attic from which the harbour could best be seen, and watched the stately ships going into port. Then he walked through the garden with lingering steps; he had worked in it with his father so long and so happily that every plant was dear to him; to leave it just now in this May weather, when the Gloire de Dijon on the south wall was covered with exquisite roses, when the snapdragons, which as a little fellow he had delighted in feeding with spoonfuls of sugar and water, were just coming into flower, when the bedding-out plants, which but three weeks ago they had planted were actually in bloom--this was hard indeed! Could it be only three weeks since that half-holiday when, with no thought of coming trouble, they had worked so merrily together? Passing through the green lauristinus arch he paced slowly on between the strawberry-beds now white with blossom. That Saturday had been their last really happy day, for the next morning’s post had brought the news of his father’s great losses, and though the Sunday’s work had been struggled through, the Rector had never been the same again, the burdened look had never left his face.