"No. I was thinking, Emma, of somebody else's secret trouble." Miss Brabazon evidently understood the allusion. Her countenance fell, and she turned her face from the doctor's view. "I thought Sir Simon was here, papa." "So he is. Sir Simon's gone up to see Talbot. He will take tea with us, Emma." The tea and Sir Simon came in together; Emma Brabazon was always glad to see him. Miss Rose followed, and the conversation was general, on account of the young lady's presence; otherwise it must have fallen on the Paradynes. Sir Simon was in spirits; Mrs. Talbot, sitting with her son, had assured him the doctor said all would be well. But Sir Simon had something to do yet. When tea was over, he said farewell to his friends and went in search of the boys, who were in the cricket-field. He called aloud for Trace and for Loftus major. When the rest of the boys came flocking up with a shout—for it was a red-letter day when they could get Sir Simon—he sent them away again. "I want only these two graceless ones," he said: "you all be off," and the boys went, shouting and laughing. "Yes, you, Irby; you may stop." Gathering the three around him, he entered on his business, and talked to them for a few moments very plainly and earnestly. Loftus was the first to respond, and he did it with frankness. "I have already said, sir, that Paradyne is safe for me. I will keep my word." "I'll never tell upon him, Sir Simon," added Irby; "I'll make him my friend, if you like." "Is the fellow to stop?" asked Trace. "Yes, sir, he is to stop," replied Sir Simon, turning sharply upon the speaker. "It is Dr. Brabazon's pleasure that he should stop, and it is mine also. What have you to say against it?" "Nothing at all," quietly replied Trace. "That's well," returned Sir Simon, in a cynical tone of suavity. "And now, mind you, Trace—all of you mind—if unpleasantness does arise to this unlucky boy through either of you, I'll—I'll—by George! I'll make him, young Paradyne, my heir." He turned off in the direction of the plantation, curious to examine the scene of the last night's outrage. Quite one half of the college had gathered there, and the rest ran up now. Sir Simon laid his hand upon Dick Loftus. "So! This was your doing!" "Don't, uncle," said Dick, wincing; "I'm as vexed about it as you can be. I'd rather have been shot myself." "That's what Bertie says. A pretty pair of nephews I've got!" continued Sir Simon, using his stick on the ground violently, to the admiration of the surrounding throng. "The one smuggles pistols into the school, and the other brings 'em out and shoots a boy!" "I didn't shoot him," said Dick. "You were the cause of it, sir. If Talbot dies, and the thing comes to trial, were I the judge on the bench, I should transport you for seven years, Dick Loftus, as accessory in a second degree." "Talbot isn't going to die," debated hardy Dick.