that--person's father." She
uttered the word "person" in a tone, innocent as the appellation was, so
acid that it made, the trainer bristly and Syd more of a man.

"Yes, I'm her father, my lady, but it's no use to cut up rough."

"Silence, man!" cried Lady Lisle, indignantly; "take the creature away."

"Shan't!" roared the trainer, starting. "She's my gal, and she shall
have her rights."

"Syd!" cried poor Molly, in a passionate burst of tears, and she turned
and flung her arms round the boy's neck.

"Syd, my child!" wailed Lady Lisle, passionately. "You too? Has it
come to this?"

"Yes," sobbed and wailed the poor, pretty, childish-looking thing,
turning now upon Lady Lisle and throwing up her dishevelled head, "of
course it has; and he ain't yours now--he's mine, ain't you, Syd dear,
and you won't let your poor little wife be abused like that, will you?"

"No," cried the boy, stoutly, as Lady Lisle clapped her hands to her
temples, and stared as if she could not believe her eyes and ears.

"Yes, auntie dear, it's all right; this is my darling little wife, and
we love one another like--Here, what's the matter with you?"

This was to the doctor, who suddenly threw up his hands, spun round with
his face to Lady Tilborough, and began stamping about, laughing
hysterically, seeming moment by moment as if he would choke.

"Here, Lady Tilborough--Hetty darling," he half sobbed, "take me away.
I shall have a fit!"

"Be quiet, dear," she whispered, catching him by the arm. "I shall
break down too. Listen--pray listen! The whitewashing of poor old
Hilt."

Poor old Hilt had also clapped his hands to his head, and looked for a
moment as if his horrible fit of semi-delirium was returning and the
drug he had taken about to resume its sway.

"Here--water!" he cried. "No--no, I think I understand. Here, Syd, my
boy, is this all true?"

"Yes, uncle, it's true enough; and I'm proud of her."

"So am I, Syd--so am I. Hooray! Bless you, my boy! Bless you, too, my
pretty little darling!" he cried, catching Molly in his arms and kissing
her roundly again and again, while the pretty, childish-looking little
thing clasped him round the neck, smiled in his face, and replied with a
sharp, chirruping smack.

"Hilton!" cried Lady Lisle.

"But it's Syd's wife, my dear."

"Yes, my lady," cried the trainer, "and she's got her rights."

"Rights? Right," corrected Sir Hilton, taking Molly's hand, and tucking
it unde