"So should I, father. I say, it will be capital. The King is sure to say yes now, and we can have the pick of his boats, and which men we like. I say, I wonder whether we can get a man who will find old Sree, because we ought to start to-morrow morning."
"Stuff! Rubbish!" cried Mr. Kenyon, laughing. "If we get off in a week, we shall do well. But I think I will go. I should be very glad of a change. So you may go and see the doctor and chat the matter over with him—not telling him that we are going, but that we are thinking of such a trip. You can then hear what he says about it."
"Go now, father?"
"If you like."
Harry did like, and was off at once, to find Mrs. Cameron under the tree, as he had seen her on that terrible day, but with the doctor seated back in another long cane-seated chair, fast asleep.
"Doctor not well?" said Harry, after the customary salute.
"Not at all well, Harry," said Mrs. Cameron, with a sigh. "He has been working too hard lately over his native patients, and he is quite done up. He must have a change."
"That's what I've come about," said Harry excitedly, and he told her what was proposed.
"I should not like losing him for a week, but I think it would do him a great deal of good."
"Quite set me up, dear," said the doctor, opening his eyes.