directly after.

"Now, boy," he said, "what's your name?"

"Grant, Sir Francis."

"Well, Grant, did this under-gardener call Master Philip a pauper?"

I told him exactly what had occurred, and Sir Francis turned sharply on
his step-son.

"You were already self-condemned, Philip," he said sternly. "I saw you
threaten this boy with your fist. The way to win respect from those
beneath you in station is to treat them with respect."

"But, papa--"

"Hold your tongue, sir," said Sir Francis sternly.

"I had eight hundred men in my regiment, and all the band came from one
of the unions, and better fellows could not be found. My lad," he
continued, "I dare say you know that pauper only means poor. It is no
disgrace to be poor. Philip, go indoors."

"That's a flea in his ear," said Bunce chuckling, as Sir Francis went
one way, Philip the other. "What do you think of the master?"

"He seems very sharp and angry," I said, returning to my work.

"He's all that," said the man; "but he's a reg'lar gentleman. He always
drops on to them two if he catches 'em up to their larks. Nice boys
both of 'em."

That word _pauper_ rankled a good deal in my breast, for it was quite
evident to me that Sir Francis thought I was from one of the unions, and
I had had no opportunity of showing him that I was not.

"But I will show him," I said to myself angrily. "He sha'n't see
anything in me to make him believe it. It's too bad."

I was busy, as I said that, arranging a barrowful of plants in rows,
where they were to be surrounded with earth, "plunged," as we called it,
under the shelter of a wall, where they would get warmth and sunshine
and grow hardy and strong, ready for taking in to the shelter of the
greenhouse when the weather turned cold.

It was some days since I had seen Philip; but, weakly enough, I let the
memory of that word rankle still.

To carry out my task I had to fetch a pot at a time from the large wide
barrow, and set them down in the trench that had been cut for them.
This necessitated stooping, and as I was setting one down a lump of
something caught me so smartly on the back that I nearly dropped the
flower-pot and started upright, looking round for the thrower of the
piece of clay, for there it was at my feet.

I could not see, but I guessed at once that it was Philip, though it
might have been Courtenay hiding behind some gooseberry bushes or the
low hornbeam hedge, about twenty yards away.

"