“Well, if you can’t help it, you can’t, I suppose. But you can help being a hypocrite, I hope.” Bertie looked much astonished. “A hypocrite!” “Yes; you know what that is, don’t you?” “Yes—but—I didn’t know I was one. I don’t understand you, Queenie.” “Don’t you? Well, I can soon explain. Do you remember when Phil ran away from school and was going to hide and have a lot of fun, what a fuss you made about being brave and not afraid of things, and how you spoilt everything by making him tell papa straight out? Well, after all that lecturing, of course, I expected you to be as brave as a lion yourself, instead of which you turn out a horrid little coward, and nearly get the boys into a great big row because you are such a coward. That’s the sort of thing I hate!” and the little lady stamped her foot imperiously, having talked herself into a good deal of excitement. “I like people to _be_ brave, not to talk brave, and then turn awful cowards when the time comes to try.” Bertie stood humbly before the angry little girl, feeling very much subdued by her vehemence, and not at all inclined to defend himself. He felt that there was a certain amount of injustice in the charge brought against him. He knew in his heart that he was not such a dreadful coward as she thought him, although he could not control his terror in a boat. But her argument was put in a fashion that made it difficult to answer; and it was only after a very long pause that he said, slowly,— “I don’t think I should be a coward about other things. Can’t you give me something else to do that isn’t going in a boat?” Queenie quite approved of being appealed to in this way. She liked to feel her power over Bertie, and her face relaxed its severity. After a little pause she approached a few paces nearer to the little boy, and asked, in a low and mysterious tone,— “Should you be afraid to climb about the cliffs to look for sea-gulls’ eggs or young birds?” Bertie looked both eager and astonished. “No, I don’t think so,” he answered, glancing down the rugged face of the cliff, which showed numbers of rough ledges and natural rocky steps, very tempting to boys with steady heads and a natural aptitude for climbing. “Do you mean now—to-day?” “No,” answered Queenie, laying her finger on her lips and looking cautiously round her. “It’s a great secret, and you mustn’t say a word to anybody. But when the spring comes Phil and I are going to come here and try and get some young sea-gulls,—David will tell us the best places,—and if you can promise to be brave, perhaps you may come too.” Bertie looked eager and excited. He had a good deal of innate daring and love of adventure, little though some of his companions guessed it, and a hunt about those grim, rocky cliffs seemed to him the most attractive of schemes.