partly by instinct. He walked with his mother now, clinging with both hands to her arm, his head nearly on a level with her shoulder, and close, close to it, almost touching, his little person confused in the outline of her dress. The sunshine lay full along the line of the avenue, just broken in two or three places by the shadow of those old and useless trees, but without a speck upon it or a sound. "I don't think papa can be coming, Geoff, and it is time you had your tea." "Never mind me. I'll go and take it by myself, if you want me to, and you can wait here." "Why?" she said. "It will not bring him home a moment sooner, as you and I know." "No, but it feels as if it made him come; and you can see as far as the gate. It takes a long time to drive up the avenue. Oh yes, stop here; you will like that best." "I am so silly," she said, which was her constant excuse. "When you are grown up, Geoff, I shall always be watching for you." "That you shan't," said the boy. "I'll never leave you. You have had enough of that." "Oh yes, my darling, you will leave me. I shall want you to leave me. A boy cannot be always with his mother. Come, now, I am going to be strong-minded. Let us go in. I am a little tired, I think." "Perhaps the funeral was later than he thought," said the boy. "Perhaps. It was very kind of papa to go. He does not like things of that kind; and he was not over-fond of Mr. Warrender, who, though he was very good, was a little dull. Papa doesn't like dull people." "No. Do you like Theo Warrender, mamma?" "Well enough," said Lady Markland. "I don't know him very much." "I like him," said the child. "He knows a lot: he told me how to do that Latin. He is the sort of man I should like for my tutor." "But he is a gentleman, Geoff. I mean, he would never be a tutor. He is as well off as we are,--perhaps better." "Are men tutors only when they are not well off?" "Well, dear, generally when they require the money. You could not expect young Mr. Warrender to come here and take a great deal of trouble, merely for the pleasure of teaching you." "Why not?" said Geoff. "Isn't it a fine thing to teach children? It was you that said so, mamma." "For me, dear, that am your mother; but not for a gentleman who is not even a relation." "Gentlemen, to be sure, are different," said Geoff, with an air of deliberation. "There's papa, for instance----" His mother threw up her hand suddenly. "Hark, Geoff! Do you hear anything?" They had come indoors while this talk was going on, and were now seated in a large but rather shabby sitting-room, which was full of Geoff's toys and books. The windows were wide open, but the sounds from without came in subdued; for this room was at the back of the house, and at some distance from the avenue. They were both silent for some moments, listening, and then Lady Markland said, with an air of relief, "Papa is coming. I hear the sound of the phaeton."