"Pit oot the can an’ I’ll bring ye some mair hot watter—sir." Standing well behind the door Mr. Wycherly opened it gingerly and handed out the can. It was brought back full in no time, and again he heard Elsa’s voice thus adjuring him, "Ye’d better mak a steer or yer breakfast will be ruined—sir." Poor Mr. Wycherly did his best to "mak a steer," but his towels were a sodden mass, and it is not easy to dry one’s self, even with a selection of the very largest handkerchiefs. His toilet was assuredly less careful than usual, for he was very anxious about little Edmund, although the sounds of woe had ceased in a very short time after the catastrophe of the hot-water can. Mr. Wycherly’s sitting-room was across the landing from his bedroom, but before he went to breakfast he hastened downstairs to ask after Edmund’s welfare. He knocked at the parlour door, and on being bidden to enter discovered that lusty infant jumping up and down on the horse-hair sofa, while Miss Esperance sat on its very edge to make sure that he should not take a sudden dive on to the floor. "I do hope he was not hurt—" Mr. Wycherly began. "Man, man, me go to man!" Edmund cried before his aunt could answer; and scrambling off the sofa he raced across the room to Mr. Wycherly; he held up his arms exclaiming, "Uppee, uppee!" and of course was lifted up. "Ta, ta," he remarked, smiling benignly upon Miss Esperance from this eminence, "Me go wiv man." He waved a fat hand to his aunt, and kicked Mr. Wycherly in the waistcoat to hasten their departure. Mr. Wycherly wavered. "No, Edmund," said Miss Esperance, "you cannot go with Mr. Wycherly now, he is going to his breakfast." "Bretfus," echoed Edmund in joyful tones, "me go bretfus too, wiv man." "I would like to come, too," Montagu interpolated, hastily clutching at Mr. Wycherly’s coat. "May I take them?" that gentleman pleaded. "It would be very agreeable to have their society at breakfast." "I doubt it," said Miss Esperance, "but since you are so very kind—for this once—and if you find them too much, just ring." The joyful procession was already mounting the steep, curly staircase, and "Bretfus—man" resounded cheerily in the distance till Mr. Wycherly’s door was shut. Miss Esperance sat where she was on the edge of the sofa. She was very tired, for she had been up since five o’clock; moreover, her own breakfast had been of the slightest, so busy was she superintending that of the children. Her head felt swimmy and the familiar room seemed unreal and strange. The sudden silence after the ceaseless and noisy activity of Baby Edmund was restful and consoling. Elsa and Robina were upstairs busy making beds and emptying baths.