“Father! Can’t you speak to him?”
“Speak to him be damned!” said Mr. Rendall, for no particular reason. “He’s got to toe the line, that’s what it amounts to—toe the line.”
“And when I’ve toed the line, what then?” demanded Wynne; but none seemed able to supply the answer, and the advice to “shut up about it” could hardly be regarded as illuminating.
The argument concluded with the brief comment from his father:
“I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
VII
The matter was not broached again until after breakfast on the following day, when Wynne and his father were left alone over the empty cups and dishes.
“Discuss your future!” announced Mr. Rendall. He rose and placed a lump of sugar between the bars of the canary’s cage. The canary chirruped to signify gratitude for the gift.
“Seems to me there is no advantage keeping you at school any longer. Bit of practical experience in life will lick you into shape quicker than anything else.”
“One minute,” said Wynne, “I believe I could get a University scholarship if you gave me another term.”