So saying, Mrs. Ormerod placed a tumbler of water containing about half a dozen great water grubs in the middle of the malachite table, at a safe distance from the child, and followed her husband down the slope of old-fashioned turf towards a cluster of extremely old-fashioned sheep; opening, directly she stepped on to the terrace, a tiny parasol of bottle green silk with a bottle green fringe, though the sky was like nothing so much as a flock bed covered with a counterpane of white dimity. The plump pale grubs gyrated slowly round and round in the tumbler. So simple an entertainment must surely soon have ceased to satisfy. Surely Eleanor would shake the tumbler, upset the grubs, and scramble down from her chair. Why, even a grown person can hardly watch those grubs crawling down the glass wall, then floating to the surface, without a sense of boredom not untinged with disgust. But the child sat perfectly still. Was it her custom, then, to be entertained by the gyrations of grubs? Her eyes were reflective, even critical. But they shone with increasing excitement. She beat one hand upon the edge of the table. What was the reason? One of the grubs had ceased to float: he lay at the bottom; the rest, descending, proceeded to tear him to pieces. “And how has little Eleanor enjoyed herself?” asked Mr. Ormerod, in rather a deep voice, stepping into the room and with a slight air of heat and of fatigue upon his face. “Papa,” said Eleanor, almost interrupting her father in her eagerness to impart her observation, “I saw one of the grubs fall down and the rest came and ate him!” “Nonsense, Eleanor,” said Mr. Ormerod. “You are not telling the truth.” He looked severely at the tumbler in which the beetles were still gyrating as before. “Papa, it was true!” “Eleanor, little girls are not allowed to contradict their fathers,” said Mrs. Ormerod, coming in through the window, and closing her green parasol with a snap. “Let this be a lesson,” Mr. Ormerod began, signing to the other children to approach, when the door opened, and the servant announced, “Captain Fenton.” Captain Fenton “was at times thought to be tedious in his recurrence to the charge of the Scots Greys in which he had served at the battle of Waterloo.”