“But Dexter—”

“Hush, my dear; hear it all. Dexter is backward, and he is disobedient; not wilfully perhaps, but disobedient decidedly. Now listen—

“‘Backward and disobedient boys.—The Reverend Septimus Mastrum, MA Oxon, receives a limited number of pupils of neglected education. Firm and kindly treatment. Extensive grounds. Healthy situation. For terms apply to the Reverend Septimus Mastrum, Firlands, Longspruce Station.’”

“There! What do you say to that?” said the doctor.

“I don’t know what to say, papa,” said Helen rather sadly. “Perhaps you are right.”

“Right!” cried the doctor. “The very thing, my dear. I’ll write to Mr Mastrum at once. Three or four years of special education will be the making of the boy.” The doctor sat down and wrote.

The answer resulted in a meeting in London, where the Reverend Septimus Mastrum greatly impressed the doctor. Terms were agreed upon, and the doctor came back.

“Splendid fellow, my dear. Six feet high. Says Mrs Mastrum will act the part of a mother to the boy.”

“Does he seem very severe, papa?”

“Severe, my dear? Man with a perpetual smile on his countenance.”