John Marrable Leroy reluctantly ceased fingering his toes, and twisted himself into a state of devotional rigidity. He then closed his eyes, folded his hands, and breathed stertorously. All waited with devoutly bowed heads for his benediction. "T'ank God--" began Master Leroy at length. There was another tense pause. "T'ank God--" repeated the infant despondently. Another hiatus. "'_For_'--dearest," prompted his mother. A smile of intense relief illuminated the supplicant's troubled countenance. "--Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten!" he gabbled cheerfully; and the meeting broke up in unseemly confusion. * * * * * It was a hot afternoon, and Hughie, who as yet was far from getting tired of doing nothing, was well content to sprawl in a basket-chair under a great copper-beech, and watch the others play croquet. Presently Joan, swinging a mallet, came and sat on the grass beside him. "Well, Hughie?" she began, regarding her comptroller rather quizzically. "Well, Joey?" Then they both laughed, or rather chuckled. The curious part about it was that while Hughie laughed "Ha, ha!" deep down, Joey did the same. Tee-heeing and high-pitched feminine shrieking were beyond her compass. She was the Joey of old, with the same gruff voice, though she had got over her difficulty with the _r_'s and _l_'s. "It seems rummy," observed Miss Gaymer reflectively, "my being put in your charge like the guard of a train. Do you expect me to obey you?" "Yes," said Hughie. He felt he was missing an opportunity of saying something bright and striking, but "Yes" was the only word he could think of besides "No." "Oh!" replied Miss Gaymer enigmatically. "Don't you intend to?" inquired Hughie. "Well, it depends on what you tell me to do. If it was anything that didn't matter much I might do it, sometimes, just to save your face. But as a rule I shouldn't." "Oh!" said Hughie, in his turn. "I may as well tell you at once," continued the lady, "the things that it's no use scolding me about. First of all, I always choose my own friends, and never take recommendations or warnings from anybody. Then you mustn't interfere with my dancing or sailing or riding, because I love them better than anything in the world. Then, you mustn't try to prevent my reading books and seeing plays that you think are bad for me, because that sort of thing is simply not _done_ nowadays. And of course you mustn't call me extravagant if I dress nicely. Also, you mustn't expect me to go in for good works, because I hate curates. And don't give me advice, because I loathe it. On the other hand, it may comfort you to know--it does _most_ men, for some reason--that I don't want a vote and I don't smoke cigarettes. Oh, the poor little mite!"