and he dare not leave him for a moment or he would be off again."

"Tell Andrew to bring him in here."

A minute later the old servant entered with the boy. Edgar was in a
dishevelled condition, the result of several struggles with Andrew. His
face was begrimed with dirt, his clothes were torn and untidy. His father
looked at him in grave surprise. It was not that he had not seen him
before, for occasionally he had noticed him going across the garden, but
though his eyes had observed him, his mental vision had not in any way
taken him in, his thoughts being intent upon the work that he had
reluctantly left to take a hurried meal.

"Tut, tut, tut!" he murmured to himself, "and this is my son. Well, well,
I suppose he is not to be blamed; it is my own fault for being so heedless
of him. This is bad, Edgar," he said, "and yet it is my own fault rather
than thine, and I am thankful that the good prior has brought your
condition before me before it is too late. There must be no more of this.
Your appearance is disgraceful both to yourself and me--to me because you
are in rags, to yourself because you are dirty. I had never dreamt of
this. Henceforth all must be changed. You must be clothed as befits the
son of a gentleman, you must be taught as it is right for the son of a
scholar to be, and you must bear in mind that some day you will become a
gentleman yourself, and I trust a learned one. I have arranged with the
good prior here that you shall go every day to the monastery to be
instructed for three hours by one of his monks. In future you will take
your meals with me, and I will see that your attire is in order, and that
you go decent as befits your station. What hours is he to attend, Prior?"

"From nine till twelve."