"A robin, of course, you ignorant little thing. Given a bit of sunshine, a robin will sing all the year round." "Oh," said Leo, profoundly attentive, "all the year round, will he? Why, I wonder?" "If you come to 'whys' you may 'why' for ever. Why does a swallow build on a housetop and a lark in a meadow? Why does a stork stand on one leg----" "Oh, and I saw a heron to-day," cried she vivaciously. "Now where did that heron come from?" "From Lord St. Emeraud's heronry. They often fly over here in the winter." "What for, father?" "Bless my soul, Leo, how can I tell you what for? What's all this sudden interest in natural history about? Get a book and read it up,"--and he was turning away, but this was just what he was not to do. "Can't you sit down and talk to me a little?" quoth Leo, plaintively; "I don't care for those kind of books much. And you could tell me a lot I want to know; about seabirds, for instance. I never can understand how some can swim and some can't. And then there are the birds that go away in the autumn----" "Stop--stop!" "And there are the other kinds of birds----" "Of course there are. What's all this hullabaloo about birds for?" He was half disposed to be pugnacious, but even a fighting-cock could hardly have quarrelled with Leonore in this vein. She was so unconscious of giving offence, so friendly and sociable, had such a little smiling way of her own, that even General Boldero was won upon, and, indeed, had never looked so little disagreeable in his life. Here was a chatterbox certainly, and he had all the dislike of a suspicious, stupid man for chatterboxes. He despised them--with an inkling that they despised him. When he did talk, he wished to lead the talk,--and such was the feeling he inspired in the neighbourhood, that he was gladly allowed to do so. No one cared to put him into ill-humour, since he was only tolerable when bland; furthermore, he was not worth argument and opposition. Hence it was a new thing to be appealed to for information, and though not qualified to give it, he was the last to suppose as much. About the subject in question he knew just what he could not help knowing, and what Leo herself knew a great deal better,--but her object was attained, and the "hullabaloo" protested against, chained him to her side. The tea-table was now spread, and he glanced towards it, but quick as lightning she struck in. "Do let us bring our tea here, father. Just you and me. The others can amuse Mr. Custance, he can't need us too." "Eh?" said the astonished general. Some one wanted to talk to him, and to him alone? He hardly knew what to do with so flattering an invitation. But as he was obviously expected to respond to it, he followed to the tea-table, and for a minute awaited his turn in patience. Then, as Leo, having helped herself, returned to the sofa and he was still unattended to, he began to frown.