impatiently. "Call Jane, there's
a confounded cat in the conservatory. Just knocked down one of the
pots."

"All right, uncle," said the boy. "You sit down there, Molly," he
whispered, "and look here, you must help me when your father comes in.
He would drive over, and kept on insisting to me that he couldn't let me
come alone with uncle; but it was only to show off before auntie."

"Yes, I know; he's been preaching to me. Where is she?"

"Sitting up for us somewhere, pet," said Syd. "Here she comes. Back me
up, and be nice," he whispered, "and then make your guv'nor take you
home. You know how."

"Yes, Syd dear," whispered the girl; "but I'm awful tired, you know."

"Pst! Oh, it's you, Jane."

"Yes, sir. I'll light that lamp if you'll stand aside."

"Oh, yes, do. It's beastly dark."

Jane began lighting up and stealing glances full of admiration as she
handled match after match slowly, every glance affording her
satisfaction, especially when the hood of the cloak Molly wore was
thrown back and the girl gave her a pleasant, admiring smile, and showed
a pair of laughing eyes and a set of pearly teeth.

"Why, it's master's biking young lady," said Jane to herself, in
astonishment. "There'll be a row after this."

"Where's auntie, Jane?" said Syd, suddenly.

"Not come back from Tilborough yet, sir," replied the girl, snappishly.

Sir Hilton, who was still walking up and down, turned sharply at the
words "auntie" and "Tilborough"; but he said nothing, only passed his
hand in a fidgety way over his forehead and continued his
wild-beast-like walk, muttering every now and then to himself, till he
stopped suddenly close to the young couple, who were whispering
together.

"Tackle him directly he comes in, pet," Syd was saying.

"But dad's so obstinate, Syd. You give him a good talking-to. Don't be
afraid."

"I'm not--not a bit; but I don't want to have a row just at present."

"But it's got to be done, Syd dear. You have a good go at dad. Tell
him it's of no use for him to kick, and he must make the best of it."

"Yes, yes, I will, pet; but in the middle of the night like this? I
want to get uncle to bed. He's very queer yet."

"Yes, he does look groggy," said the girl, innocently; "but you needn't
be in such a hurry to get rid of me now I am here."

"I am not, darling. I should like to keep you here--always; only uncle
isn't fit to talk to yet."

"He does look dazy. I say, Syd, he doe