ion and success. Ethel regained her pupil, and put forth her
utmost powers for his benefit, causing Tom to examine him at each
vacation, with adjurations to let her know the instant he discovered
that her task of tuition was getting beyond her. In truth, Tom
fraternally held her cheap, and would have enjoyed a triumph over her
scholarship; but to this he had not attained, and in spite of his
desire to keep his brother in a salutary state of humiliation, candour
wrung from him the admission that, even in verses, Aubrey did as well
as other fellows of his standing.

Conceit was not Aubrey's fault. His father was more guarded than in
the case of his elder sons, and the home atmosphere was not such as to
give the boy a sense of superiority, especially when diligently kept
down by his brother. Even the half year at Eton had not produced
superciliousness, though it had given Eton polish to the home-bred
manners; it had made sisters valuable, and awakened a desire for
masculine companionship. He did not rebel against his sister's rule;
she was nearly a mother to him, and had always been the most active
president of his studies and pursuits; and he was perfectly obedient
and dutiful to her, only asserting his equality, in imitation of Harry
and Tom, by a little of the good-humoured raillery and teasing that
treated Ethel as the family butt, while she was really the family
authority.

'All gone, Ethel,' he said, with a lazy smile, as Ethel mechanically,
with her eyes on the newspaper, tried all her vessels round, and found
cream-jug, milk-jug, tea-pot, and urn exhausted; 'will you have in the
river next?'

'What a shame!' said Ethel, awakening and laughing. 'Those are the
tea-maker's snares.'

'Do send it away then,' said Aubrey, 'the urn oppresses the atmosphere.'

'Very well, I'll make a fresh brew when papa comes home, and perhaps
you'll have some then. You did not half finish to-night.'

Aubrey yawned; and after some speculation about their father's absence,
Gertrude went to bed; and Aubrey, calling himself tired, stood up,
stretched every limb portentously, and said he should go off too.
Ethel looked at him anxiously, felt his hand, and asked if he were sure
he had not a cold coming on. 'You are always thinking of colds,' was
all the satisfaction she received.

'What has he been doing?' said Richard.

'That is what I was thinking. He was about all yesterday afternoon
with Leonard Ward, and perhaps may hav