‘Well,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘you must show me a hornet hawking for wasps before the nest is taken, Phyllis; I suppose you have seen the wasps catching flies?’ ‘Oh yes, papa! but they pack them up quite differently. They do not hang by one leg, but they sit down quite comfortably on a branch while they bite off the wings and legs.’ ‘There, Maurice,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘I had rather hear of one such well-observed fact than of a dozen of your hard names and impaled insects.’ Phyllis looked quite radiant with delight at his approbation. ‘But, papa,’ said Maurice, ‘may I have a piece of plate-glass, eighteen by twenty?’ ‘When you observe facts in natural history, perhaps I may say something to your entomology,’ said Mr. Mohun. ‘But, papa, all my insects will be spoilt if I may not have a piece of glass, eighteen by—’ He was interrupted by the arrival of the post-bag, which Jane, as usual, opened. ‘A letter from Rotherwood,’ said she; ‘I hope he is coming at last.’ ‘He is,’ said Claude, reading the letter, ‘but only from Saturday till Wednesday.’ ‘He never gave us so little of his good company as he has this summer,’ said Emily. ‘You will have them all in the autumn, to comfort you,’ said Claude, ‘for he hereby announces the marvellous fact, that the Marchioness sends him to see if the castle is fit to receive her.’ ‘Are you sure he is not only believing what he wishes?’ said Mr. Mohun. ‘I think he will gain his point at last,’ said Claude. ‘How stupid of him to stay no longer!’ said Reginald. ‘I think he has some scheme for this vacation,’ said Claude, ‘and I suppose he means to crowd all the Beechcroft diversions of a whole summer into those few days.’ ‘Emily,’ said Mr. Mohun, ‘I wish him to know the Carringtons; invite them and the Westons to dinner on Tuesday.’ ‘Oh don’t!’ cried Reginald. ‘It will be so jolly to have him to take wasps’ nests; and may I go out rabbit-shooting with him?’ ‘If he goes.’ ‘And may I carry a gun?’ ‘If it is not loaded,’ said his father. ‘Indeed, I would do no mischief,’ said Reginald. ‘Let me give you one piece of advice, Reginald,’ said Mr. Mohun, with a mysterious air—‘never make rash promises.’