"You do this on purpose to vex me," I cried vehemently, "and because you know I am ill to-day, and that father is away!" I did not quite mean that, but one cannot help saying rather more than one means in such moments of acute exasperation. "Do what?" returned Harry, looking as surprised as Bobby had done. "I'm not doing anything. And you never told us you were ill." "I have a raging headache," I said--and so I had as the result of the long day's worry. "And I have been telling you the whole afternoon to be quiet, and the more I tell you, the more you disobey me. Look at that beautiful new carpet--ruined for ever! Look at that lovely cushion--simply scratched to pieces! And a great, big boy like you, who ought to be a comfort to his mother----" But there is no need to repeat all I said to him; indeed, I cannot remember it; but my blood was up, and I know I scolded him severely. And he answered me back, as he alone of all the children dared to do, which of course made things worse; for if there is one thing I cannot stand it is impertinence. He was just telling me that, if I chose to regard him as a ruffian and a cad, he could not help it, when we heard a distant door open--the way a door opens to the hand of the master of the house. "There!" I exclaimed passionately. "There's your father! We'll see what _he_ says to the way you treat me when his back is turned." Tom came in, with that bright look he always wears when he sees us after an absence. How could I have had the heart to extinguish it, and to make his children quake at sight of his dear face, instead of flying to welcome him, as was the rule on his return! But a mother's authority _must_ be upheld. I said so to Tom, and he said I was perfectly right, and that it was his business to see it done. He bade me explain what was the matter, and I did so, softening things a little--more and more as I went on--since, after all, it was nothing so very dreadful. Perhaps I had been a little hasty and hard; I thought so when I saw how Tom was taking it. He had that inexorable look of the commander confronted with mutiny--as if really I were accusing the poor boys of murder at the least. And when I saw how they stood before him--Bob downcast and tearful, and Harry with his head up, teeth and hands clenched, too proud to quail--oh, I would have given anything to save them! But it was too late. "I am sure they didn't mean it," I protested, laying my hand on Harry's shoulder, which felt as rigid as iron under it. "We can overlook it this time, father, dear." "The one thing I will never overlook," he replied, "is misconduct towards you when I leave you unprotected. If they don't know the first rudiments of manliness--at their age--I must try to teach them." "But _that_ is not the way to teach them!" I cried--almost shrieked--as he signed to them to pass out of the room before him. "Oh, Tom, don't! don't! It is all my fault!"