Then once more he summed up, when his glasses were fixed again; he ran through his arguments lightly and efficiently, and ended by a quiet little assumption that Frank was going to be reasonable, to write to his father once more, and to wait at least a week.

He even called him "my dear boy!" "Thanks very much," said Frank.
"Then you'll think it over quietly, my dear boy.

Come and talk to me again.

I've given you your _exeat_, but you needn't use it.

Come in to-morrow evening after hall." Frank stood up.
"Thanks, very much, Mr.Mackintosh.