"It was a great comfort to be alone with him," proceeded my mother; "I got really to know my boy at last. Yes, his wife is a lucky woman. I trust she will prove worthy of him." This time I was spared making any further remarks, for my father's latch-key was heard in the front-door. The next moment he and George entered the little drawing-room together. "Bitterly cold night," said my father, walking up to the fire, and monopolising the whole of it. "A sharp frost has set in already. Ha! is that you, Rosamund? Home again? How do you do? My dear," turning to his wife, "did you register the thermometer as I told you to do this afternoon?" "Yes, George. There were five degrees of frost then." "Ha! there'll be fifteen by nine o'clock to-night. Why do you women keep such miserable fires? This thimbleful is enough to freeze any one." My father turned, and seizing the coal-scuttle, dashed a quantity of loose coal into the grate. It raised a dust, and almost extinguished the fire, but we none of us expostulated, for my father was unquestionably master in his own house. George meanwhile flung himself into a deep easy-chair, crossed one muddy boot over the other, and seizing my mother's favourite tabby cat, began to stroke it the wrong way, and otherwise to worry it. He laughed once or twice, when pussy resisted his endearments. He suddenly flung her on the ground almost roughly. "Do turn that ugly thing out of the room, Rosamund," he said. I did not stir. I thought the time had come when I would cease to allow George to bully me. "By the way," said my father suddenly, in his harsh voice, "what's this I hear, that Chillingfleet has given Jack the sack? You gave me the information, didn't you, George?" "Yes, sir, and it's correct," replied George. "I suppose Jack was playing the fool in some way, and Chillingfleet took advantage of his illness to get rid of him." "Monstrous, I call it," interrupted my father; "an unprecedented sort of thing to do. I shall call on Chillingfleet to-morrow morning, and sift this matter to the very bottom." My mother looked up in alarm when my father spoke in this tone. "I understand," she said in her gentle voice, "that Jack has had a particularly kind letter from Mr Chillingfleet. He did not show it to me, but he told me of it." "Then you knew of this?" said my father, angrily. "Yes, George, Jack told me that he was going about a fortnight ago." "H'm--ha! The young cub doesn't choose to confide in me. Did he give you any reason for his dismissal?" "No, I did not think any necessary. Jack has been ill for weeks, and unable to attend to his work. Mr Chillingfleet had naturally to get some one to take his place." "Naturally, indeed! That's all you women know!" My father began to pace the floor in his indignation.