Mr. Brandreth let himself in with a key. “There are only three families in our house, and it’s like having a house of our own. It’s so much easier living in a flat for your wife, that I put my foot down, and wouldn’t hear of a separate house.” They mounted the carpeted stairs through the twilight that prevails in such entries, and a sound of flying steps was heard within the door where Mr. Brandreth applied his latch-key again, and as he flung it open a long wail burst upon the ear. “Hear that?” he asked, with a rapturous smile, as he turned to Ray for sympathy; and then he called gayly out in the direction that the wail came from; “Oh, hello, hello, hello! What’s the matter, what’s the matter? You sit down here,” he said to Ray, leading the way forward into a pretty drawing-room. He caught something away from before the fire. “Confound that nurse! She’s always coming in here in spite of everything. I’ll be with you in a moment. Heigh! What ails the little man?” he called out, and disappeared down the long narrow corridor, and he was gone a good while. At moments Ray caught the sound of voices in hushed, but vehement dispute; a door slammed violently; there were murmurs of expostulation. At last Mr. Brandreth reappeared with his baby in his arms, and its nurse at his heels, twitching the infant’s long robe into place. “What do you think of that?” demanded the father, and Ray got to his feet and came near, so as to be able to see if he could think anything. By an inspiration he was able to say, “Well, he _is_ a great fellow!” and this apparently gave Mr. Brandreth perfect satisfaction. His son’s downy little oblong skull wagged feebly on his weak neck, his arms waved vaguely before his face. “Now give him your finger, and see if he won’t do the infant Hercules act.” Ray promptly assumed the part of the serpent, but the infant Hercules would not open his tightly-clinched, wandering fist. “Try the other one,” said his father; and Ray tried the other one with no more effect. “Well, he isn’t in the humor; he’ll do it for you some time. All right, little man!” He gave the baby, which had acquitted itself with so much distinction, back into the arms of its nurse, and it was taken away. “Sit down, sit down!” he said, cheerily. “Mrs. Chapley will be in directly. It’s astonishing,” he said, with a twist of his head in the direction the baby had been taken, “but I believe those little things have their moods just like any of us. That fellow knows as well as you do, when he’s wanted to show off, and if he isn’t quite in the key for it, he won’t do it. I wish I had tried him with my hat, and let you see how he notices.”