"Do," said Aunt Charlotte, well pleased at Austin's sudden
capitulation. "That is, unless you're too tired with your walk. Martha
can always give them to the milkman if you are."

"Not a bit of it," said Austin hastily, as he swung himself out of the
room. "I shall be back in time for dinner."

"He certainly is the very oddest boy," soliloquised Aunt Charlotte, as
she settled herself comfortably on the sofa and went on clicking her
knitting-needles. "Why he dislikes the MacTavishes so I can't imagine;
nice, cheerful young persons as anyone would wish to see. It really is
very queer. And then the way he suddenly gave in at last! It only
shows that I must be firm with him. As soon as he saw I was in earnest
he yielded at once. He's got a sweet nature, but he requires a firm
hand. He's different, too, since he lost his leg--more full of
fancies, it seems to me, and a great deal too much wrapped up in those
books of his. I suppose that when one's body is defective, one's mind
feels the effects of it. I shall have to keep him up to the mark, and
see that he has plenty of cheerful society. Nothing like nice
companions for maintaining the brain in order."

Thus did Aunt Charlotte decide to her own satisfaction what she
thought would be best for Austin.




Chapter the Third