ang to his feet
as he entered the room.

Sir Hugh had been told that he would not find his wife. His face wore
its usual look of good-temper, but it wore more than its usual look of
indifference for his wife's son. "Ah, tell Lady Channice, will you," he
said over his shoulder to the maid. "How d'ye do, Augustine:" and, as
usual, he strolled up to the fire.

Augustine watched him as he crossed the room and said nothing. The maid
had closed the door. From his wonted place Sir Hugh surveyed the young
man and Augustine surveyed him.

"You know, my dear fellow," said Sir Hugh presently, lifting the sole of
his boot to the fire, "you've got devilish bad manners. You are
devilishly impertinent, I may tell you."

Augustine received the reproof without comment.

"You seem to imagine," Sir Hugh went on, "that you have some particular
right to bad manners and impertinence here, in this house; but you're
mistaken; I belong here as well as you do; and you'll have to accept the
fact."

A convulsive trembling, like his mother's, passed over the young man's
face; but whereas only Amabel's hands and body trembled, it was the
muscles of Augustine's lips, nostrils and brows that were affected, and
to see the strength of his face so shaken was disconcerting, painful.

"You don't belong here while I'm here," he said, jerking the words out
suddenly. "This is my mother's home--and mine;--but as soon as you make
it insufferable for us we can leave it."

"_You_ can; that's quite true," Sir Hugh nodded.

Augustine stood clenching his hands on his book. Now, unconscious of
what he did, he grasped the leaves and wrenched them back and forth as
he stood silent, helpless, desperate, before the other's intimation. Sir
Hugh watched the unconscious violence with interest.

"Yes," he went on presently, and still with good temper; "if you make
yourself insufferable--to your mother and me--you can go. Not that I
want to turn you out. It rests with you. Only, you must see that you
behave. I won't have you making her wretched."

Augustine glanced dangerously at him.

"Your mother and I have come to an understanding--after a great many
years of misunderstanding," said Sir Hugh, putting up the other sole.
"I'm--very fond of your mother,--and she is,--very fond of me."

"She doesn't know you," said Augustine, who had become livid while the
other made his gracefully hesitant statement.

"Doesn't know me?" Sir Hugh lifted his brows in amused inq