His uncle did not answer instantly.  He knew that there was some truth in his nephew’s analysis of the situation.  It was his uneasy, superabundant energy and craving for action that made him find the more or less restricted life of the college, a burden, a bore and an exasperation, and drove him to crazy escapades and deeds of flagrant lawlessness.  He needed no assurance that the boy would not “fall down” at soldiering.  He would take to it as a duck to water.  And the discipline might be the making of him, prove the way to exorcise the devil.  Still there were other considerations which to him seemed paramount for the time at least.

“I understand how you feel, Ted,” he said at last.  “If we get into the war ourselves I won’t say a word against your going.  I should expect you to go.  We all would.  But in the meantime as I see it you are not quite a free agent.  Granny is old and very, very feeble.  She hasn’t gotten over your father’s death.  She grieves over it still.  If you went to war I think it would kill her.  She couldn’t bear the strain and anxiety.  Patience, laddie.  You don’t want to hurt her, do you?”

“I s’pose not,” said Ted a little grudgingly.  “Then it is no, Uncle Phil?”

“I think it ought to be no of your own will for Granny’s sake.  We don’t live to ourselves alone in this world.  We can’t.  But aside from Granny I am not at all certain I should approve of your leaving college just because it doesn’t happen to be exciting enough to meet your fancy and means work you are too lazy and irresponsible to settle down to doing.  Looks a little like quitting to me and Holidays aren’t usually quitters, you know.”

He smiled at the boy but Ted did not smile back.  The thrust about Holidays and quitters went home.

“I suppose it has got to be college again if you say so,” he said soberly after a minute.  “Thank heaven there are three months ahead clear though first.”

“To play in?”

“Well, yes.  Why not?  It is all right to play in vacation, isn’t it?” the boy retorted, a shade aggressively.

“Possibly if you have earned the vacation by working beforehand.”

Ted’s eyes fell at that.  This was dangerously near the ground of those uncomfortable, inevitable confessions which he meant to put off as long as possible.

“Do you mind if I go out now?” he asked with unusual meekness after a moment’s rather awkward silence.

“No, indeed.  Go ahead.  I’ve had my say.  Be back for supper with us?”

“Dunno.”  And Ted disappeared into the adjoining room which connected with his uncle’s.  In a moment he was back, expensive panama hat in one hand and a lighted cigarette held jauntily in the other.  “I meant to tell you you could take the car repairs out of my allowance,” he remarked casually but with his eye shrewdly on his guardian as he made the announcement.

“Very well,” replied the latter quietly.  Then he smiled a little seeing his nephew’s crestfallen expression.  “That wasn’t just what you wanted me to say, was it?” he added.