I saw a smile hovering on Mrs. Markham’s thin lips. Evidently she found Joyce amusing, but just then a loud peevish voice was distinctly audible in the passage. “Mother, mother, I say! Go away, Juddy, I tell you. You are a nasty disagreeable old cat—and I will go to mother”—this accompanied by ominous kicks. I signed to Hannah to take the children into the adjoining room. It was Reggie’s bedtime, and Joyce was tired with her journey. The door was scarcely closed upon them before the same violent kicking was heard against the nursery door. “It is only Rolf. I am afraid he is very cross,” observed Mrs. Markham, placidly, shivering a little after the fashion of people who have lived in India, as she moved away from the open window, and drew a lace scarf round her. “Judson is such a bad manager. She never does contrive to amuse him, or keep him quiet.” “He will frighten Reggie,” I remonstrated, for she did not offer to stop the noise, and I went quickly to the door. There was a regular scuffle going on in the passage. A little boy in Highland dress was endeavouring to escape from a young woman, who was holding him back from the door with some difficulty. “Master Rolf—Master Rolf, what will your mamma say? You will make her head ache, and then you will be sorry.” “I shan’t be a bit sorry, Juddy, I tell you! I will go in, and——” Here he stopped and stared up in my face. He was a pale, sickly-looking child, rather plain, as Miss Cheriton had said, but he had beautiful grey eyes, only they were sparkling with anger. The young woman who held him by the arm had a thin, careworn face—probably her post was a harassing one, with an exacting mistress and that spoilt boy. “Who are you?” demanded the boy, rudely. “I am Miss Fenton, the nurse,” I returned. “Your little cousins are just going to bed, and I cannot have that noise to disturb them.” “I shall kick again, unless you let me come in and see them.” “For shame, Master Rolf. Whatever makes you so naughty to-night?” “I mean to be naughty. Hold your stupid old tongue, Juddy. You are a silly woman. That is what mother calls you. I am a gentleman, and shall be naughty if I like. Now then, Mrs. Nurse, may I come in?” “Not to-night, Master Rolf. To-morrow, if you are good.” “Nurse,” interrupted Mrs. Markham’s voice, behind me, “I do not know what right you have to exclude my boy. Let him come in and bid good-night to his cousins. You will behave prettily, Rolf, will you not?” One look at the surly face before me made me incredulous of any pretty behaviour on Rolf’s part. I knew Joyce was a nervous child, and easily frightened, and already the loud voices were upsetting Reggie. I could hear him crying, in spite of Hannah’s coaxing. I felt I must be firm. The nursery was my private domain. I was determined Rolf should not cross the threshold to-night.