But somehow there is always something which draws me away."
"It makes no matter, Frank. If you are happy and amused I am content,
and if the tea is cold it is your loss, not ours. Now, my boy, as
soon as you have washed your hands we will have tea."
It was a simple meal, thick slices of bread and butter and tea,
for Mrs. Hargate could only afford to put meat upon the table once
a day, and even for that several times in the week fish was substituted,
when the weather was fine and the fishing boats returned, when well
laden. Frank fortunately cared very little what he ate, and what
was good enough for his mother was good enough for him. In his
father's lifetime things had been different, but Captain Hargate
had fallen in battle in New Zealand. He had nothing besides his
pay, and his wife and children had lived with him in barracks until
his regiment was ordered out to New Zealand, when he had placed
his wife in the little cottage she now occupied. He had fallen in
an attack on a Maori pah, a fortnight after landing in New Zealand.
He had always intended Frank to enter the military profession, and
had himself directed his education so long as he was at home.
The loss of his father had been a terrible blow for the boy, who
had been his constant companion when off duty.
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