"What a young storyteller you are!" Gilbert exclaimed contemptuously. "I could understand your interfering with the robins if you had not given your word not to do so, because you did not know the mischief you were doing; but it was so fearfully dishonourable to deliberately break your promise in that way." Gerald felt bitterly ashamed of himself at that moment, but he considered the lame boy was taking too much upon himself in speaking to him in such scornful, reproving tones. "I believe your father would be awfully mad with you if he knew how you have behaved," Gilbert proceeded, "and Mr. Bailey too. I—" "Oh!" Gerald interrupted in an alarmed voice, "you won't tell them, will you? You can't mean to get me into a row! Father would be so angry if he knew. He isn't often angry with me, but when he is put out, he can be awfully stern." "I won't tell. I'm not a sneak, I hope." "I am so very sorry I touched the birds," Gerald said earnestly, "I am indeed. Do believe me." Gilbert looked searchingly at his companion's disturbed countenance, and met a decidedly ashamed look in the bright blue eyes, which assured him that Gerald was, at any rate, now speaking the truth. He hastened to reply— "I do believe you. No one guessed why the young birds fell out of their nest except Tom and me, and now I know how it was I promise you I will not tell any one but Tom. Dora was awfully upset when she found the young birds dead, and Dinah was sorry too, but they neither of them imagined how it happened, and Tom won't let them know if I persuade him not to. I say, don't meddle with birds' nests again." "All right, I won't," Gerald answered gratefully. "It's awfully kind of you not to want to get me into a row. You won't tell Angel, will you?" "No, but the girls are sure to speak to her about the birds. I do wish you hadn't touched them." "I wish I hadn't." "Is Mr. Willis in?" Gilbert inquired after a short pause. "Yes, he's in the studio, expecting you. Shall I tell him you're here?" "Oh no, thank you. I won't trouble you to go back to the house. I've only brought some of my sketches to show your father; they wouldn't interest you." The lame boy, sensitive on the subject of his work, had no desire to exhibit it to Gerald. "You were going out, weren't you?" he asked. "Yes, presently; I'm going to meet Reginald Hope." "Reginald Hope!" Gilbert echoed in a surprised tone. "I didn't know you knew him. He goes to the Grammar School, and is in my form." "Then you know him well?" Gerald questioned eagerly. "He's a jolly fellow, isn't he?" "Humph! I dare say he may be in some people's estimation. I never found him so." "Don't you like him?" "No." "Perhaps he doesn't like you?" Gerald suggested, with a knowing smile. "Very likely not." "I wish you'd tell me why you don't like him." Gilbert looked at his companion, and hesitated a moment before replying—