An excellent reason for absenting himself from school was thus denied to Master Hardy; but it has been well said that when one door closes another opens, and to his great satisfaction the old servant, who had been in poor health for some time, suddenly took to her bed and required his undivided attention.
He treated her at first with patent medicines purchased at the chemist's, a doctor being regarded by both of them as a piece of unnecessary extravagance; but in spite of four infallible remedies she got steadily worse. Then a doctor was called in, and by the time Captain Hardy returned home she had made a partial recovery, but was clearly incapable of further work. She left in a cab to accept a home with a niece, leaving the captain confronted with a problem which he had seen growing for some time past.
“I can't make up my mind what to do with you,” he observed, regarding his son.
“I'm very comfortable,” was the reply.
“You're too comfortable,” said his father.
“You're running wild. It's just as well poor old Martha has gone; it has brought things to a head.”
“We could have somebody else,” suggested his son.
The captain shook his head. “I'll give up the house and send you to London to your Aunt Mary,” he said, slowly; “she doesn't know you, and once I'm at sea and the house given up, she won't be able to send you back.”