'Tired of playing?' asked Harvey, with voice and look which betrayed a tenderness he was always trying to conceal.
'A little tired. We are going to have tea soon.—May I look at this book, Father?'
'No pictures.'
'I don't mind.—Yes, there's a picture; a soldier!'
Interest quickened in the boy's eyes, and he turned eagerly from title-page to text. But just then there came a loud calling of his name from the other end of the garden.
'They want you,' said Harvey. 'Off you go. You can have the book another time.'
Hughie obeyed without hesitation, but his face had a weary look as he walked away to join the other children.
'I must send him to the Grammar-School next year,' said Rolfe. 'It won't do; he must be among boys, and learn to be noisy. Perhaps I have been altogether wrong in teaching him myself. What right has a man to teach, who can't make up his mind on any subject of thought? Of course I don't talk to him about my waverings and doubtings, but probably they affect him.'
'Don't bother your head so much about it,' replied Morton. 'He'll be all right as he grows stronger.'
A servant had brought out two little tables; tea was going to be served in the garden. When it was ready, Mrs. Morton appeared; the men rose as she came towards them, a newspaper in her hand.