"Claud, darling, don't use such dreadful language. But please get up now, and let me brush your hair. Your father is so angry and violent because you are keeping him waiting. Pray come down at once." "Shan't!" "Claud, dearest, you shouldn't say that. Please come down." "Shan't, I tell you. Be off, and don't bother me." "I am so sorry, my dear, but I must. He sent me up, dear." "I--shan't--come--down. There!" "But Claud, my dear, he is so angry. I dare not go without you. What am I to say?" "Tell him I say he's an old beast." "Oh, Claud, I can't go and tell him that. You shouldn't--you shouldn't, indeed." "I'm too bad to eat." "Yes--yes; I know, darling, but do--do try and come down and have a glass of wine. It will do you good, and keep poor papa from being so violent." "I don't want any wine. And I shan't come. There!" "Oh, dear me! Oh, dear me!" sighed Mrs Wilton; "what am I to do?" "Go and tell him I won't come. Bad enough to be hit by that beastly old prize fighter, without him kicking me as he did. I'm not a door mat." "No, no, my dear; of course not." "An old brute! I believe he has injured my liver." "Claud, my darling, don't, pray don't say that." "Why not? The doctor ought to be fetched; I'm in horrid pain." "Yes, yes, my dear; and it did seem very hard." "Hard? I should think it was. I'm sure there's a rib broken, if not two." "Oh, my own darling boy!" cried Mrs Wilton, embracing him. "Don't, mother; you hurt. Be off, and leave me alone. Tell him I shan't come." "No, no, my dear; pray make an effort and come down." "Shan't, I tell you. Now go!" "But--but--Claud, dear, he threatened to come up with a horse whip and fetch you." "What!" cried Claud, springing up on the bed without wincing, and staring at his mother; "did he say that?" "Yes, my love," faltered the mother. "Then you go down and tell him to come, and I'll knock his old head off." "Oh, Claud, my dear boy, you shouldn't. I can not sit here and listen to such parricidical talk." "Stand up then, and now be off." "But, my darling, you will come?" "No, I won't." "For my sake?" "I won't, for my own. I'm not going to stand it. He shan't bully and knock me about I'm not a boy now. I'll show him." "But, Claud, darling, for the sake of peace and quietness; I don't want the servants to know." But dear Claud--his mother's own darling--was as obstinate now as his father, whom he condemned loudly, then condemned peace and quietness, then the servants, and swore that he would serve Kate out for causing the trouble. "I'll bring her down on her knees--I'll tame her, and make her beg for a kiss next time." "Yes, yes, my dear, you shall, but not now. You must be humble and patient." "Are you coming down, Maria?" ascended in a savage roar. "Yes, yes, my dear, directly," cried the trembling woman. "There, you hear, darling. He is in a terrible fury. Come down with me."