"Indeed, father. I almost think so too; and, at any rate, you won't find me losing any more sovereigns to Jim Jarrocks. But I'm almost pledged to Saunders to ride in this steeplechase. It will be capital fun, and no harm, and perhaps I may never have another chance." "I had rather you didn't," said his father; "anyhow, your friend Saunders must find you a horse for I am not going to have one of mine spoilt again, and your own pony would make but a poor figure in a steeplechase." "All right, father," replied Walter, and the conversation passed on to another subject. The three weeks came and went; the steeplechase came off, and Walter was one of the riders. The admired of all eyes, he for a time surmounted all difficulties. At last, in endeavouring to clear an unusually wide ditch, he was thrown, and his horse so badly injured that the poor animal had to be shot. Walter himself, though stunned and bruised, was not seriously hurt, and was able to return home in time for dinner. The party had assembled in the drawing-room, all but Mr Huntingdon. Five minutes--ten--a quarter of an hour past the usual time, but the squire had not made his appearance. At last his step was heard rapidly approaching. Then he flung the door hastily open, and rushed into the room, his face flushed, and his chest heaving with anger. Striding up to Walter, he exclaimed: "So this is the end of your folly and disobedience. You go contrary to my orders, knowing that I would not have you take part in the steeplechase; you ruin another man's horse worth some three hundred guineas; and then you come home, just as if nothing had happened, and expect me, I suppose, to pay the bill. But you may depend upon it I shall do nothing of the sort." No one spoke for a few minutes. Then Walter stammered out that he was very sorry. "Sorry, indeed!" cried his father; "that's poor amends. But it seems I'm to have nothing but disobedience and misery from my children." "Dear Walter," said his sister gently, "are you not a little hard upon the poor boy?" "Hard, Kate?--poor boy?--nonsense! You're just like all the rest, spoiling and ruining him by your foolish indulgence. He's to be master, it seems, of the whole of us, and I may as well give up the management of the estate and of my purse into his hands."