"Yes," said my father, "there is no doubt about it; it is the best thing to do. So that is decided." The "yes" was no expression of agreement with any one but himself. It was simply the emphatic reiteration of the decision he had already arrived at. He folded up the letter he had been reading, and replaced it carefully and methodically in its envelope, then glanced round the breakfast-table with the slightly defiant, slightly deprecating, yet nevertheless wholly good-tempered air which we all knew well-so well that not one of us would have dreamt of wasting time or energy by beating his or her wings against the bars of the dear man's resolute determination. Some faces fell a little, others expressed philosophic resignation, one or two, perhaps, a kind of subdued exhilaration; but no one said anything except mother, who replied quietly, as was her wont- "Very well; I daresay you are right."