"Aren't you exaggerating?" he asked.

Michael shook his head.

"Oh, don't tone it down, Francis!" he said. "Even if I was
exaggerating--which I don't for a moment admit--the effect on my general
efficiency would be the same. I think what I say is true."

Francis became more practical.

"But you've only been in the regiment three years," he said. "It won't
be very popular resigning after only three years."

"I have nothing much to lose on the score of popularity," remarked
Michael.

There was nothing pertinent that could be consoling here.

"And have you told your father?" asked Francis. "Does Uncle Robert
know?"

"Yes; I wrote to father this morning, and I'm going down to Ashbridge
to-morrow. I shall be very sorry if he disapproves."

"Then you'll be sorry," said Francis.

"I know, but it won't make any difference to my action. After all, I'm
twenty-five; if I can't begin to manage my life now, you may be sure I
never shall. But I know I'm right. I would bet on my infallibility. At