“Did he come to tea?” “Yes.” She dug her needles viciously into an innocent ball of wool. “Yes,” said Henry fiercely, “that’s why they had it early, I suppose—and why I don’t get any—_of_ course.” “All I know is,” continued Aunt Aggie, “that he’s put your grandfather into the most dreadful state. He was alone in here with him it seems, and I’m sure I don’t know what he’s said to him, but it upset him dreadfully. I’ve not been well myself to-day, and to have your grandfather—” But Henry again interrupted. “What did he want coming to-day at all for? He might have waited.” Aunt Aggie, however, did not like to be interrupted when she was discussing her health, so she said now sharply: “Just look at your hands, Henry—Why _can’t_ you keep them clean. I should have thought going up to Cambridge—” “Oh! I’m all right,” he answered, impatiently. “Anyway, I wonder what he told grandfather.” “Why, what _could_ he have told him?” said Aunt Aggie, eagerly, looking up. “Oh, I don’t know—nothing—Only ... Oh, Rocket, ask them to make some fresh tea. Let me have it in here.” “Certainly, Mr. Henry,” said Rocket, removing the tea-pot with an air of strong disapproval. “Really, Henry!” Aunt Aggie exclaimed. “And simply for yourself! Why, even though I’ve had the most trying headache all day, I’d never venture to give so much trouble simply for myself.” “Oh, I daresay you’ll have some when it comes,” Henry answered, carelessly—then, pursuing his thoughts, he continued: “Well, he won’t be coming back to Garth with us—that’s one comfort.” “Oh, but he is!” cried Aunt Aggie, excitedly. “He is! Your mother’s _asked_ him to come back with us, and he’s accepted. I simply don’t understand it. Your mother dislikes him as much as the rest of us do, and why she should _ask_ him! It can’t be for poor Katie’s sake. She’s miserable enough when he’s at Garth. I’m sure if things go on like this much longer I shall go and take a little house by myself and live alone. I’d really rather than all this unpleasantness.” This threat did not apparently alarm Henry very greatly, for, bursting out suddenly, he cried: “It’s beastly! perfectly beastly! There we’ve all got to sit watching him make Katie miserable. I won’t stand it! I _won’t_ stand it!” “Why you!” said Aunt Aggie, scornfully. “How can you prevent it! You’re only a boy!” This epithet stung Henry to madness. Ah, if Aunt Aggie only knew all, she’d see that he was very far from being ‘only a boy’—if she only knew the burden of secret responsibility that he’d been bearing during all these weeks. He’d keep secret no longer—it was time that everyone should know the kind of man to whom Katherine was being sacrificed. He turned round to his aunt, trembling with anger and excitement. “You talk like that!” he cried, “but you don’t know what I know!” “What don’t I know?” she asked eagerly. “About Philip—this man Mark—He’s wicked, he’s awful, he’s—abominable!”