"But Reginald need not have screamed so," testily interposed Lord Hartledon. "I thought one of them must be on fire. You naughty child, why did you scream?" he continued, giving Reginald a slight tap on the ear. "Any child would scream at being so taken by surprise," said Lady Hartledon. "It is Edward who is in fault, not Reginald; and it is he who deserves punishment." "And he should have it, if he were my son," boldly declared the nurse, as she picked up the unhappy Reginald. "A great greedy boy, to swallow down every bit of the jam, and never give his brother a taste, after poisoning him with that nasty powder!" Edward rose, and gave the nurse a look of scorn. "The powder's good enough for him: he is nothing but a young brat, and I am Lord Elster." Lady Hartledon felt provoked. "What is that you say, Edward?" she asked, laying her hand upon his shoulder in reproval. "Let me alone, mamma. He'll never be anything but Regy Elster. _I_ shall be Lord Hartledon, and jam's proper for me, and it's fair I should put upon him." The nurse flounced off with Reginald, and Lady Hartledon turned to her husband. "Is this to be suffered? Will you allow it to pass without correction?" "He means nothing," said Val. "Do you, Edward, my boy?" "Yes, I do; I mean what I say. I shall stand up for myself and Maude." Hartledon made no remonstrance: only drew the boy to him, with a hasty gesture, as though he would shield him from anger and the world. Anne, hurt almost to tears, quitted the room. But she had scarcely reached her own when she remembered that she had left a diamond brooch in the nursery, which she had just been about to put into her dress when alarmed by the cries. She went back for it, and stood almost confounded by what she saw. Lord Hartledon, sitting down, had clasped his boy in his arms, and was sobbing over him; emotion such as man rarely betrays. "Papa, Regy and the other two are not going to put me and Maude out of our places, are they? They can't, you know. We come first." "Yes, yes, my boy; no one shall put you out," was the answer, as he pressed passionate kisses on the boy's face. "I will stand by you for ever." Very judicious indeed! the once sensible man seemed to ignore the evident fact that the boy had been tutored. Lady Hartledon, a fear creeping over her, she knew not of what, left her brooch where it was, and stole back to her dressing-room. Presently Val came in, all traces of emotion removed from his features. Lady Hartledon had dismissed her maid, and stood leaning against the arm of the sofa, indulging in bitter rumination. "Silly children!" cried he; "it's hard work to manage them. And Edward has lost his pow--" He broke off; stopped by the look of angry reproach from his wife, cast on him for the first time in their married life. He took her hand and bent down to her: fervent love, if ever she read it, in his eyes and tones. "Forgive me, Anne; you are feeling this."