“That settles it, then,” said Oscar, well pleased that his aunt found a decisive reason for rejecting another.  “Now, then, for the last, short and energetic:—­

    “’Freedom we shout!  Freedom for all! 
      Freedom for ever and aye! 
    We will not yield till all chains fall,
      And tyrants are banished or die!’

“Do you hear that, aunty?”

“Yes, my dear, I can’t help hearing it, and it’s very spirited, but it doesn’t mean anything.  I don’t know of any ‘tyrants’ that need to be banished or die, do you?  It isn’t to be thought of.  Take the first, or, if you don’t like that, choose another from the list.”

But Oscar was obstinate.  The first he wouldn’t have, and he must somehow or other bring his aunt over to accept this one.

“But, aunty,” he began in a tone of remonstrance, “there were tyrants once; don’t you remember the poem about Dionysius, the tyrant?  And if there have been once, there may be again, and then this verse would be splendid; don’t you think so?”

Before aunty could respond to this appeal, came a fearful pounding at the door, which put a stop to the discussion.  Fred and Emma, having hunted over the rest of the house in vain, had at last bethought themselves of this apartment; and, finding the door locked, they felt sure that the objects of their search were within.

Emma called through the keyhole:—­

“Come, aunty, please, quick!  Supper is ready, and papa has come, and mamma sent us to call you.”

And Fred shouted in a still louder tone:—­

“Come along, Oscar; papa is asking for you.”

All was over.  His aunt opened the door at once, and Oscar had to follow her.

The next morning, when the carriage had been rolled out of the coach-house and stood waiting for the horses, to which the groom was giving the last polish in the stable, Dr. Stein came into the room where the mother and aunt were putting the final touches to the preparation of the children for the journey.

“I must say good-bye now.  My patients cannot be kept waiting, and I must go.  One word to you, Oscar.  Be careful not to carry your schemes too far while you are visiting.  Here, at home, every one knows you; and, if you do a foolish thing, they say:  ’It’s the doctor’s boy; he’ll soon be set right.’  But now you will have only yourself to depend upon; so don’t go into anything heedlessly.  Don’t undertake anything which you are not quite sure about, so that no unpleasant consequences may result either for yourself or for the lady whose guest you are to be.  You must remember that you will displease Mrs. Stanhope if you do a wrong or foolish thing.  You are old enough to understand me without farther explanation.  Do not forget.  Now good-bye, my boy, and you too, Emma; good-bye, Fred. Be happy and be good.”

With these words the father shook all three pairs of outstretched hands and was off.