"I really do not think I will sit down in this house after the way in which I have been treated," said the irate widow, while she followed her sister-in-law upstairs. "Oh yes, do, mammy; I want to see the house," implored Cecil. "Why did you not tell me what a dreadful man he is, Katherine, and I should not have put myself in the way of being insulted?" "I think I told you enough to keep you away, Ada. What put it into your head to come?" "I scarcely know. I always intended it, and Colonel Ormonde said it was my duty to let him, Mr. Liddell, see the boys. I really did not want to come." "I wish Colonel Ormonde would mind his own affairs," cried Katherine. "I fancy he only talks for talking's sake." "That is all you know," indignantly; "he is a very clever man of the world, and I am fortunate in having such a friend to interest himself in me." "Oh, well, perhaps so. At all events, I am very glad to see the bays, and--you too, Ada. Charlie is very pale. Come here, Charlie." "Oh, auntie, is this your own, own room? Does the cross old man ever come here? Are all those books yours--and the funny little table with the crooked legs? Who is the man in a wig?" cried Cecil. "Mightn't we stay with you? we would be so quiet? Mother says we are _dreffully_ troublesome since you went away. We could both sleep with you in that great big bed! The cross old gentleman would never know. It would be such fun! Do, do, let us stay, auntie!" "But I am afraid of the old gentleman," whispered the younger boy. "Does he ever hurt you, auntie dear? I wish you would come home." "Charlie is such a coward," said Cecil, with contempt. "Don't talk nonsense, children," exclaimed their mother, peremptorily. "I should die of fright if I thought you were left behind with that ogre. _I_ wouldn't sacrifice my children for the sake of filthy lucre." "Do not talk nonsense, Ada?" said Katherine, impatiently. "I am infinitely distressed that my uncle should have behaved so rudely, but he is really eccentric, and if you had consulted--" "He is the boys' uncle as well as yours," interrupted Ada, indignantly. "Why should they not come and see him? How was I to suppose he was such an unnatural monster?" "I always told you he was very peculiar." "Peculiar! that is a delicate way of putting it. If I were you I should be ashamed of wasting my time and my youth acting servant to an old miser who will not leave you a sou!" "No, I don't suppose he will," returned Katherine, quietly. "Still, I am not the least ashamed of what I am doing; I am quite satisfied with my own motives." "Oh, you are always satisfied with yourself, I know," was the angry answer, "But"--with a slight change of tone--"I am sorry to see you look so pale and ill, though you deserve it." "Never mind, Ada. Take off your bonnet and sit down. I will get you a cup of tea." "Tea! no, certainly not! Do you think me so mean as to taste a mouthful of food in this house after being ordered out of it?"