not long to wait. She had come to town with the
colonel--indeed it was at her request that he had ordered the coach
instead of coming in on horseback, as was his custom--and was at the
moment quietly resting on St. George's big sofa.

"It is all over, mother," Harry cried in a voice so firm and determined
that his mother knew at once something unusual had happened--"and you
might as well make up your mind to it--I have. Father walked into the
club five minutes ago, looked me square in the face, and cut me dead;
and he insulted Uncle George too, who gave him the greatest dressing
down you ever heard in your life." He had learned another side of his
uncle's character--one he should never cease to be grateful for--his
outspoken defence of him before his equals.

Mrs. Rutter half rose from her seat in blank astonishment. She was
a frail little woman with pale-blue eyes and a figure like a curl of
smoke.

"Your--father--did not--speak--to--you!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You
say--your father--But how dare he!"

"But he did!" replied Harry in a voice that showed the incident still
rankled in his mind--"and right in the club, before everybody."

"And the other gentlemen saw it?" She stood erect, her delicate body
tightening up. There was a strain of some old-time warrior in her blood
that would brook no insult to her son.

"Yes, half a dozen gentlemen saw it. He did it purposely--so they COULD
see. I'll never forgive him for it as long as I live. He had no business
to treat me so!" His voice choked as he spoke, but there was no note of
surrender or of fear.

She looked at him in a helpless sort of way. "But you didn't answer
back, did you, my son?" This came in a tone as if she feared to hear the
details, knowing the boy's temperament, and his father's.

"I didn't say a word; Uncle George wouldn't let me. I'm glad now he
stopped me, for I was pretty mad, and I might have said something I
would have been sorry for." The mother gave a sigh of relief, but she
did not interrupt, nor did she relax the tautness of her body. "You
ought to have heard Uncle George, though!" Harry rushed on. "He told him
there was not a dog at Moorlands who would not have treated his puppy
better than he had me--and another thing he told him--and that was that
after to-day I was HIS son forever!"

St. George had been standing at the front window with his back to them,
looking out upon the blossoms. At this last outburst he turned, and said
ov