ind. It is _sine_ pay. My work may be bad, though I hope not, but my
pay is nothing. I don't see any resemblance between the two."

"Your pay nothing!" cried the father, enraged; "what do you call your
living, your food that you are so fastidious about, your floods of beer
and all the rest of it--not to speak of tailors' bills much heavier than
mine?"

"Which are never paid."

"Whose fault is it that they are never paid? yours and the others who
weigh me down to the ground, and never try to help or do anything for
themselves. Never paid! how should I have gone on to this period and
secured universal respect if they had never been paid? I have had to pay
for all of you," said Mr. May, bitterly, "and all your vagaries;
education, till I have been nearly ruined; dresses and ribbons, and a
hundred fooleries for these girls, who are of no use, who will never
give me back a farthing."

"Papa!" cried Ursula and Janey in one breath.

"Hold your tongues! useless impedimenta, not even able to scrub the
floors, and make the beds, which is all you could ever be good for--and
you must have a servant forsooth to do even that. But why should I speak
of the girls?" he added, with a sarcastic smile, "they can do nothing
better, poor creatures; but you! who call yourself a man--a University
man, save the mark--a fine fellow with the Oxford stamp upon you,
twenty-three your next birthday. It is a fine thing that I should still
have to support you."

Reginald began to walk up and down the room, stung beyond bearing--not
that he had not heard it all before, but to get accustomed to such
taunts is difficult, and it is still more difficult for a young and
susceptible mind to contradict all that is seemly and becoming in
nature, and to put forth its own statement in return. Reginald knew that
his education had in reality cost his father very little, and that his
father knew this. He was aware, too, much more distinctly than Mr. May
knew, of James's remittances on his account; but what could he say? It
was his father who insulted him, and the young man's lips were closed;
but the effort was a hard one. He could not stand still there and face
the man who had so little consideration for his feelings. All he could
do was to keep his agitation and irritation down by that hurried
promenade about the room, listening as little as he could, and answering
not at all.

"Oh, papa! how can you?" cried Janey, seizing the first pause. Janey was
not