“A shilling a week or sometimes half-a-crown,” said Archie, prolonging the laugh which was the only witness of emotion his boyish pride and shyness permitted him to indulge in. “But I’m not asking you for money,” he said harshly. The puppies flitted in vision before his eyes, and counselled a softer tone, but he could not, in spite of the puppies, put forward a finger to touch the crisp piece of paper which his father held out to him. “I’ll see about that,” said Rowland. “Here, in the meantime.” “I am not wanting your money.” “You young ass! take what I give you. I’ll see that you have at your command in future, a proper sum.--Here!” Rowland, who was much out of temper too, flung the note at the boy, who let it drop upon the floor. “And try to behave like a gentleman,” he said, exasperated, “and not like a sullen dog, as you’re doing now.” He did not mean to be so severe. He was tired and sick of it all, as he said to himself as he hurried away. The boy was not true, he was not genuine, not frank nor open. The father was very angry, disappointed: yet in the dark, as he walked back to the hotel, there gleamed somehow upon him, he did not know how, a reflection, a gleam from poor Mary’s blue eyes, that had so long been hidden in the grave. Meanwhile, the party in Mrs. Brown’s parlour had been disturbed by a sense of something sulphurous in the air, and by the flutter of the piece of paper which had been thrown at Archie like a blow. All demand for explanation or possibility of interference had been stopped by the rapid leave-taking and departure of Rowland. “Are you not going to stay to your supper? and me prepared the table for you, and everything ready!” Mrs. Brown had said in great disappointment and dismay; but Rowland had not yielded. He had letters to write, he said, that unanswerable reason for everything. When the sound of his quick steps had died out upon the pavement, Mrs. Brown came back with a blank countenance into the parlour, where Archie still sat with the bit of white crisp paper at his feet. “There’s been some quarrel atween you,” she said. “Tell me no lees: you’ve been setting up your face to your father, that’s just a gentleman and far above ye, as ye whiles do to me.” “I tell no lies,” said the boy. “That means ye just acknowledge to it, ye thrawn, vexatious callant? What’s that bit of paper lying at your feet?” “Its of no consequence,” said Archie. “But it is of consequence when I say so. Give it to me!” “I will not touch it,” said the boy. “Then I’ll touch it!” She stooped suddenly with a nimbleness for which Archie was unprepared and snatched the paper. Then she gave a loud scream. “Preserve us a’! It’s nae less than a twenty-pound note. Lord, laddie, what did you say to him that he’s given you a twenty-pound note?” “Give me the note!” said Archie hoarsely, holding out his hand.