“The most unselfish thing that we can do, and the thing that hurts ourselves the most, that ought to be called the bestest deed,” proclaimed this small self-constituted oracle.
Vague and distinctly ungrammatical as this proposition was, it was nevertheless hailed as a welcome end to the long discussion, and was duly carried in these terms.
“That that deed which shall be the most unselfish, and shall cost the doer the heaviest price shall be adjudged the best.”
And as Phoena entered this important resolution into her code of rules and regulations Faith wondered a little anxiously as to how and when that resolution would be enforced.
If she had only guessed what was coming!
But though Hubert’s suggestion was adopted, his sudden leap into public life, as well as to the top of the fence, whence he had delivered himself, nearly cost him the chance of being enrolled himself into the order at all, for the elder boys agreed that it was quite impossible to admit such an infant on the same footing as themselves.
“He’s such an awful youngster,” said Phil, sighing heavily at the thought of Hubert’s four years juniorship to himself.
“Of course,” said Andrew, decidedly, “we can’t have such a baby amongst us.”
But the pitiful look on the “awful youngster’s” face softened Jack’s heart.
“Phoena, can’t we take him in as something that isn’t a knight?” he asked; “As a squire or a page?”