Vaulting over little Robert, who sat on the floor staring at him, he caught Kate in the exuberance of his anticipations, and whirled her round until she was giddy. Then, attempting a leap across the table, he caught his foot on the edge; and boy, table, and a heavy pincushion that was on it, called a "doctor," all came down together. The noise was something wonderful. It brought up Edina and Alice. "Whatever is it, nurse?" "Only one of Master Alfred's freaks, ma'am. He thought he would leap over the table." Alfred was holding his handkerchief to his nose. He would not acknowledge that it bled. "We thought the house was falling," said Alice. "It was worse than papa. He gave us the first fright." "And all because he has come into some money, he says, Miss Raynor," put in the nurse, who was angrily picking up the table, "and the money is to buy him everything under the sun." "Unseemly boasting, Alfred!" cried Edina. "Had you no thought for your poor aunt?" "I don't see why I should have, Edina," returned the boy, boldly. "I never saw Aunt Atkinson in my life: why should I pretend to be sorry for her?" "I never said you were to pretend anything, child. Sorrow is real enough, and perhaps, Alfred, you will find that it comes to you often enough in life, without assuming it. But there is a great difference between feigning sorrow, and being especially elated. As to the fortune, it may not make very much difference to you in any way." "Oh, won't it though, Edina! Charley's not going to get it all." "About the blinds, ma'am? Are they to be kept down?" "I don't know, nurse. I will ask Mrs. Raynor. "What an old croaker she is!" exclaimed Alfred, as Edina left the room. "A bit of one," assented Alice. "That she is not, Miss Alice," said the nurse. "If you were all only half as good as Miss Edina Raynor!" When the sum necessary for the journey came to be ascertained, it was found that the major and all his household could not scrape it together: though it sounds like a ridiculous fact. Edina came forward with help; and so it was managed. "I trust it will be all right, Uncle Francis," whispered Edina, earnestly, as she crossed the lawn with the major when he was departing. "Right in what way, my dear?" "That you will inherit Eagles' Nest." "Oh, that _is_ all right," replied the major. "My letter tells me so. Everything is willed to me. Poor Ann! Good-bye, my dear: be sure you stay until we return. What a hot walk we shall have into Bath!" added the major, taking off his hat and rubbing his brow in anticipation. "But there's no help for it; no conveyance of any kind at hand. I should be glad even of Tuppin's van this morning."