s contents were spilt on the white
tablecloth, and over his own shirt-cuff. Basil hated messes and
awkward ways of doing things. He gave Ermengarde a return kick of some
force, murmured, "You're a perfect muff, Ermie," and then looked up,
with his momentary annoyance gone, at Miss Nelson.

"Thank you for excusing Ermengarde," he said. "She's under my command
now. I'm her captain. I'll see that she's in good time in the future."

"Well, Ermengarde, you may consider yourself excused," said the
governess. "I hope you have thoroughly mastered your imposition. If
so, as you must want fresh air, you may go out with Basil for an hour
after tea."

Basil glanced at his sister's blooming and blushing face. As he did
not want to be kicked any more, however, he was silent. Marjorie had
left her seat, and was bringing all the cups up to Miss Nelson to be
refilled with tea. As the governess poured some hot water into the
teapot she turned again to Ermengarde, "Do you know your piece of
poetry, Ermie?"

Ermengarde said "Yes." This happened to be true, for the poem selected
for her punishment lesson was "Casabianca," which she admired very
much, and had long ago committed to memory for pleasure.

"Yes, I know it quite well, thank you, Miss Nelson," she said in a
cheerful voice.

The clouds had left her face; she was now in an excellent humor. To be
with Basil was always delightful to her, and she sincerely hoped that
her disobedience and open defiance of authority might never be
discovered. If it was, she was prepared to defend her action, but she
had an intuition that Basil would disapprove. His good opinion was of
the utmost value to her: she loved Basil; she had no particular
affection for any other human being, unless, perhaps, her father; but
Basil's presence caused a warm satisfied glow to steal around her
heart.

Miss Nelson had supplied all the second cups of tea. She was again at
liberty to ask her favorite a question.

"Basil, I should like to ask you in confidence, has Eric brought home
any strange pets this time?"

Basil's eyes sparkled.

"Only two ferrets," he said; "and two carrier pigeons, and two
fantails, and a pouter (Eric is dead nuts on that pouter), and a
lop-eared rabbit. I think that's all. I have some pups, too," he added
modestly, "but they are coming by parcel-post to-morrow."

"By parcel-post, Basil!" here almost screamed Marjorie. "Oh, I hope
they won't be squashed."

"Silence, children!" sa