"You are old and wise, Doctor. Have you any cure for a man with
sufficient money and no immediate profession to prevent stagnation?"

"None," said the Doctor; "but the man himself can find many. The chief
is that he be conscious of his danger, and on the watch against it. As
a last expedient I should recommend a second course of travel."

"But am I to be barred from my home because of this bogey of yours?"

"No, Lewie lad, but you must be kept, as you say, 'up to scratch,'" and
the old face smiled. "You are too good to waste. You Haystouns are
high-strung, finicking people, on whom idleness sits badly. Also you
are the last of your race and have responsibilities. You must remember
I was your father's friend, and knew you all well."

At the mention of his father the young man's interest quickened.

"I must have been only about six years old when he died. I find so few
people who remember him well and can tell me about him."

"You are very like him, Lewie. He began nearly as well as you; but he
settled down into a quiet life, which was the very thing for which he
was least fitted. I do not know if he had altogether a happy time. He
lost interest in things, and grew shy and rather irritable. He
quarrelled with most of his neighbours, and got into a trick of
magnifying little troubles till he shrank from the slightest
discomfort."

"And my mother?"