"I suppose you are referring to the governess, Master Bob?" said James gravely, but with a slightly suppressed smile flickering in his eyes. "Of course I am! --I say, what is she like, though?" "You'd better wait till you see her for yourself." "Anyway, it means a little fun," continued the boy. "She won't be here long, that's pretty certain," and he commenced to whistle an airy tune as he made to enter the dining-room. "Stop that noise, and sit down quietly," said his father irritably. "You are late as usual, I see." Further remark was cut short by Ellice rushing into the room and boisterously greeting her brother, followed more gently by Margaret, who paused in astonishment at the sight of the boy of whose existence she had not even heard. "We've brought our luncheon home to-day, we didn't stay to eat it in the woods, and the tarts are all sloppy," exclaimed Ellice, lying glibly. "You can have them. Bob," anxious to shock Margaret, her voice shrill with excitement. "Thank you for nothing," answered her brother. "This is my son, Miss Woodford. You see the specimen he is," said Mr. Medhurst, by way of introduction. "I wonder if you remember the advice of an old sage, 'When you see a boy, beat him, because he has either just done something wrong, is doing it, or just going to do it.' Now I've told you this young man's character in one sentence." The words were said smilingly, but the smile was ironical. The boy's bright face clouded, and Margaret felt what a tactless mistake the introduction had been, and wondered at the denseness and unkindness of the remarks. She turned to Bob pleasantly as she held out her hand. "I don't believe in very bad boys--I never came across any, and if I did, I shouldn't ask others for their character, Mr. Medhurst," she replied; "I should judge them for myself." "Wait till you know this one better, Miss Woodford," he answered; and then, turning to Bob: "How about your report," he continued; "did you bring it home?" "No, sir," answered the boy sullenly. "Tore it up, I suppose, on purpose?" "Y-e-s," came the reply, slowly. "Very well, you know the consequences." "No, no, daddy; wait till he's done something _more_," interposed Ellice, dancing round her father, and grasping his arm persuasively. His face at once softened. "You think it won't be long before the trouble comes, eh?" he asked, pinching her cheek gently. His small daughter always seemed able to disarm his wrath. "No--at least--I--mean----" she stammered. "All right, old lady, I understand," he answered, smiling; then, turning to Margaret, "Women's wiles, Miss Woodford. Well, you are let off this time, young man," turning to his son; "you can thank your sister for it," and with this he left them. For a few moments silence prevailed, and then Ellice, catching hold of her brother's arm, whispered: "Come on up to the schoolroom; I've heaps to tell you."