"I ’spect our hats will blow right off, and the horses and soljers are grand, and—and p’raps it will rain, too—and—and—and Mrs. Barclay says she would like you to go—" Suddenly he turned on her, the brilliant colour leaping to his cheeks. "_You_!" he cried stormily. "_You_! Why don’t you sneer at me? Why don’t you call me names? _You_!" A little puzzled frown settled on her brows. "I—don’t—know why I don’t," she said slowly. "Go away! Go now! Go _at once_!" and before she could move he had burst into a perfect storm of tears. Sheila Pat backed across the room till she reached the opposite wall, and stood staring, wide eyed, at the shaking little figure in the window, at the fair head prone on the outstretched, despairing arms. Presently he raised his head. "Why don’t you go, you hateful, beastly little pryer? Why don’t you? Oh, I don’t mean it," he added wildly, "only—you—you’ll despise me—more’n ever—" His voice dropped dejectedly. He began fumbling vainly for his handkerchief. Sheila Pat produced a clean folded one of her own, and came across the room and handed it to him. "You’d better go—they’ll be waiting for you won’t they?" "Please come, too, Tommy." He turned wondering eyes on her. "Look here, I—I’m going to tell you! It was a beastly boy—I went to post a letter for mother this morning, and he—" his face flushed scarlet, "he imitated me—he pertended to be lame like me, and I—I tried to go for him, but he just ran, you see—and he—laughed—" Sheila Pat’s face quivered. There was a little silence. "And—and he made me feel—wild—" "Please, Tommy, don’t talk about that boy," her voice shook, "please don’t." He stared moodily out of the window again. She stood by, a queer little motherly look on her serious face. "Will you come now, Tommy?" A loud rat-a-tat-tat-tat-_tat_ echoed through the house. "That’s them!" exclaimed the Atom, with ungrammatical excitement. "Oh, Tommy, please be quick!" A minute later they ran down to the hall, where they found Denis declaring he wouldn’t wait any longer. Stewart gave his mother a shy little nod, and they started. *CHAPTER XVII* Nell hardly paused to breathe. Standing before her easel, the easel dragged into the window, the curtains tugged back, she worked away with a rapid brush. "Mr. Lancaster, missansir!" Sarah announced with an air. "Oh, how are you? Do you mind waiting a minute?" She did not even glance round. Silence reigned. Then she flung down her brush with a sigh, stepped back and into Ted Lancaster’s arms. "Oh!" She gave a little laugh and turned round. "I’ve been rude, haven’t I? But I did so want to catch that bit of grudging daylight. Denis is out with the others. He got off early to-day." "Yes, I know. I thought I’d catch him. I wanted to ask him if he’d come round this evening." She held out painty fingers. "I can’t even shake hands! And why did you stand there all the time?" "I’ve been watching you."