"Oh, auntie, you are good," said the "dear boy." "I'm sure I try to do what you wish." "Always, my darling, with a few exceptions. I have found out that." "What, auntie?" said the "dear boy," changing colour. "That my darling is a leetle disposed to be vulgar sometimes." "Ha!" sighed the lad, with a look of relief. "But he is going to be as good as gold, and grow into a noble gentleman, of whom his country will be proud. There, now we understand each other. Mr Trimmer is late this morning." "Scissors! How she made me squirm!" muttered the boy, who had risen and walked to the window as if to hide his emotion with the scented white handkerchief he drew from his pocket. "He isn't late, auntie--just his usual time." "Dear, dear, and your uncle not yet down!" "Shall I go and rout him out, auntie?" "No, my dear," said the lady, sternly, "I will speak to him when he comes down." "Do, auntie. Tell him he loses all the fresh morning air," said the boy, demurely, feeling in the breast-pocket of his jacket the while, and causing a faint crackling sound as of writing-paper, while he noted that the lady was resuming her perusal of the morning's letters. Just then the breakfast-room door opened and a pretty little dark-eyed parlourmaid entered the room. "Mr Trimmer is in the libery, my lady." "Show him in here, Jane," said Lady Lisle, without raising her eyes, "and tell Mark to have the pony-carriage round in half an hour." "Yes, my lady." The girl turned to go, her eyes meeting those of the "dear boy," who favoured her with a meaning wink, receiving by way of reply a telegraphic wrinkling up of the skin about a saucy little retrousse nose. "Little minx," said the "dear boy" to himself. "Young impudence," said the girl, and she closed the door, to return in a few minutes to show in Mr Trimmer, her ladyship's confidential bailiff and steward of the estate. CHAPTER TWO. A MOST TRUSTWORTHY PERSON. "Ah, good-morning, Mr Trimmer," said Lady Lisle. "Don't go, Sydney, my dear. It is as well that you should be present. You cannot do better than begin to learn the duties of a person of position--the connection between the owner of property and his, or her, dependants." "All right, auntie," said Syd, returning, with a quick nod and a keen look, the obsequious bow of the gaunt-looking man in white cravat and pepper-and-salt garb. "Sit down, Mr Trimmer." "Thank you, my lady." The steward drew a chair to the table, and placed a particularly neat bag before him, which he proceeded to open, and brought out a packet of papers neatly docketed and tied up with green silk ferret in quite legal fashion. "What are those, Mr Trimmer?" said the lady, assuming a gold-framed pince-nez. "The reports upon the Parliamentary canvass, my lady. Ditto those in connection with the village charities and your donations in town. If your ladyship will glance over them I think you will find them perfectly correct."