’Charles,’ said Honor, ’I have hard work to make both ends meet, and to keep the children in order. You must not make my work harder—perhaps impossible. If you remain here, you will need my help to make you comfortable and to put your clothes in order. You will throw an additional burden on me, already heavily weighted. I do not grudge you that. But remember that extra work for an additional member means less time for earning money at basket-weaving. We must come to an understanding. I do not grudge you the time or the trouble, but I will only give them to you on condition that you do not interfere with my management of the children, and that you refrain your tongue from oaths and unseemly speech.’ Charles stood up, went to her, took her by both ears, and kissed her. ’There, corporal, that is settled.’ Honor resented the impertinence of laying hold of her by both ears, but she swallowed her annoyance, and accepted the reconciliation. ’I have a good heart,’ said Charles, ’but it has been rolled in the mud.’ ’Give us the goodness, and wash off the soil,’ answered Honor. Then she brought him some bread-and-butter and milk. ’Charles,’ she said, ’I will see if I cannot find some of father’s clothes that will fit you. I cannot endure to see you in this condition.’ ’Not suitable to the heir of Coombe Park, is it?’ laughed Charles. ’Is the governor as mad on that now as of old?’ ’Say nothing to him about Coombe Park, I pray you,’ urged Honor. ’It takes the nerve out of his arms and the marrow from his bones. It may be that we have gentle blood in us, or it may not. I have heard tell that in old times servants in a house took the names of their masters.’ ’I have always boasted I was a gentleman, till I came to believe it,’ said the soldier. ’You’d have laughed to hear me talk of Coombe Park, and the deer there, and the coaches and horses, and father as Justice of Peace, and Deputy-Lieutenant, and all that sort of thing, and his wrath at my enlisting as a private.’ ’I should not have laughed. I should have cried.’ ’And, Honor, I reckon it is the gentle blood in my veins which has made a wastrel of me. I could never keep my money, I threw it away like a lord.’ Honor sighed. The myth of descent from the Luxmores of Coombe Park had marred her father’s moral strength, and depraved her brother’s character. ’There they come, the little devils!’ shouted Charles, springing up and knocking the ashes out of his pipe, which he put away in his waistcoat pocket. ’Charles!’ again remonstrated Honor, but in vain. Her elder brother was unaccustomed to control his tongue. There was a certain amount of good nature in him, inherited from his father, and this Honor thankfully recognised; but he was like his father run to seed. Luxmore would have become the same but for the strong sustaining character of his daughter.