tice at the small glory his brave
deeds on Judy's behalf evoked from the others. They did not seem to
attach any importance to them, and, indeed, laughed every time he
alluded to them or drew public attention to his scars. Two or
three of the scratches on his legs were really bad ones, and while he
was standing waiting he turned down his stockings and gazed at these
with pitying eyes and something like a sob in his throat.

"Nobody cares!" he muttered, and one of his ever-ready tears fell
splashing down on one extended bare leg. "Judy likes Pip best, and
he never climbed the cactus; Meg thinks I tell stories; and Nellie
says I'm a greedy pig--nobody cares!"

Another great fat tear gathered and fell. "Have you taken root
there?" a voice asked.

His father, smoking at the open french window, had been watching him,
and marvelling at his rare and exceeding quietness.

Bunty started, guiltily, and pulled up his stockings.

"I'm not doin' nothin'," he said aggrievedly, after a minute's
pause. Bunty always lapsed into evil grammar when agitated. "Nothing
at all. I'm goin' to a picnic."

"Ah, indeed!" said the Captain. "You looked as if you were
meditating on some fresh mischief, or sorrowing over some old--which
was it?"

Bunty turned a little pale, but remarked again he "wasn't doin'
nothin'."

The Captain felt in a lazy, teasing mood, and his little fat, dirty
son, was the only subject near.

"Suppose you come here and confess every bit of mischief you've
done this week," he said gravely. "I've the whole morning to
spare, and it's time I saw to your morals a little."

Bunty approached the arm of the chair indicated, but went whiter than
ever.

"Ah, now we're comfortable. Well, there was stealing from the pantry
on Tuesday--that's one," he said, encouragingly. "Now then."

"I n--n--never did n--nothin' else," Bunty gasped. He felt certain
it was all over with him, and the cricket ball episode was discovered.
He even looked nervously round to see if the riding-whip was near.
Yes, there was Esther's silver-topped one flung carelessly on a chair.
He found time to wish fervently Esther was a tidy woman.

"Nothing at all, Bunty? On your word?" said his father, in an
impressive tone.

"I was p--playin' marbles," he said, in a shaking voice. "How
c--c--could I have sh--shot anything at y--y--your old horse?"

"Horse--ah!" said his father. A light broke upon him, and his face
grew stern. "What did