"Do nothing rashly," he said gravely.
Time, however, strengthened Mark's resolution. He set to work to overcome his stammer. When he told his family of his intention to take Orders, each member in turn protested.
"You—a parson?" The Squire was scarlet with surprise.
"There is only one living," bleated Mrs. Samphire.
"Oh, I shan't compete with old Archie," said Mark, smiling.
Lady Randolph, however, said to Betty: "He is the right man to lead—lead, mind you—forlorn hopes."
"And be killed," Betty answered vehemently.
"I don't think he will be killed, my dear."
For many months after this he worked with Ross, seeing but little of his family and friends.
In the following February the Admiral died after a short sharp attack of pneumonia. Mark attended his funeral, and exchanged a few words with Betty, to whom was left everything the kind, eccentric old man possessed. Betty broke down when she saw Mark's sympathetic face. She had nursed her uncle faithfully; she had loved him very dearly; she realised that she was alone in a world which held pain as well as pleasure. Mark tried to comfort her.