your own dignity above the affection of your friends; for that's
really what it comes to, old boy, if you look it fairly in the
face."

Frank flushed a little and was silent for a minute or two.

"I suppose you are right, Ruthven; but it is a little hard for a
fellow--"

"Oh, no, it isn't," Ruthven said. "If you'd got into a scrape from
some fault of your own one could understand it, although even then
there would be no reason for you to cut your old friends till they
cut you. Young Goodall, who lives over at Bayswater, has been over
four or five times to ask me if I have succeeded in finding you,
and I have had letters from Handcock, and Childers, and Jackson.
Just as if a fellow had got nothing to do but to write letters.
How long will you be before you can come out?"

"There is Mr. Horton just come in," Frank said. "I have no doubt
he will let me go at once."

The old naturalist at once assented upon Frank's telling him that
a friend had come who wished him to go out.

"Certainly, my dear boy. Why, working the hours and hours of
overtime that you do, of course you can take a holiday whenever
you're disposed."

"He will not be back till late," Ruthven said as they went out. "I
shall keep him all the evening."