to making use of it, then you forget," and with a little gesture of
impatience the Colonel turned aside to light a match from a box which he
had found in the pocket of his cape.

"I am sorry," said Morris, with a sigh, "but I am afraid it is true.
When one's mind is very fully occupied with one thing----" and he broke
off.

"Ah! that's it, Morris, that's it," said the Colonel, seating himself
upon a garden chair; "this hobby-horse of yours is carrying you--to the
devil, and your family with you. I don't want to be rough, but it is
time that I spoke plain. Let's see, how long is it since you left the
London firm?"

"Nine years this autumn," answered Morris, setting his mouth a little,
for he knew what was coming. The port drunk after claret had upset
his father's digestion and ruffled his temper. This meant that to
him--Morris--Fate had appointed a lecture.

"Nine years, nine wasted years, idled and dreamt away in a village upon
the eastern coast. It is a large slice out of a man's life, my boy. By
the time that I was your age I had done a good deal," said his father,
meditatively. When he meant to be disagreeable it was the Colonel's
custom to become reflective.

"I can't admit that," answered Morris, in his light, quick voice--"I
mean I can't admit that my time has either been idled away or wasted. On
the contrary, father, I have worked very hard, as I did at college,
and as I have always done, with results which, without boasting, I may
fairly call glorious--yes, glorious--for when they are perfected they