“Yes, father; and I’ve heard say that you were a very clever one.”
“I did my best, boy. But I was going to say I am a doctor, and saving for an occasional accident, which nature would heal, I am like a fish out of water.”
“Break-fast!” cried a merry, girlish voice; and Hilda, looking bright and eager, looked in at the stable door.
“Ah! here you are, Nic!” she cried. “What a shame! your first morning, and not been to say ‘how are you?’ to mamma!”
Nic rushed by her before she had finished, and ran into the house, where Mrs Braydon was eagerly waiting to welcome him to the board.
“I needn’t have been so apologetic,” said the doctor drily, as he came in a minute later and took his place. “Here have I been preaching to this boy about the hardships of our life, and our rough fare, and—humph! French ham, new-laid eggs, coffee, cream, honey, jam, hot bread-cakes, and—tut—tut—tut! My poor boy, I am so sorry there are no fried rolls. Can you make shift?”
“Yes, father,” said Nic, laughing, as he thought of school fare. “I’m going to try.”
He did.