ather; it was stupid up in the drawing-room, and she
hated ladies, which confession set every one laughing, so as quite to
annihilate the effect of Mr. Sandbrook's 'Yes, go, my dear.'

Finally, he took the two up-stairs himself--the stairs which, as he had
told Honora that evening, were his greatest enemies, and he remained a
long time in their nursery, not coming down till tea was in progress.
Mrs. Sandbrook always made it herself at the great silver urn, which had
been a testimonial to her husband, and it was not at first that she had a
cup ready for him. He looked even worse than at dinner, and Honora was
anxious to see him resting comfortably; but he had hardly sat down on the
sofa, and taken the cup in his hand, before a dismal childish wail was
heard from above, and at once he started up, so hastily as to cough
violently. Captain Charteris, breaking off a conversation, came rapidly
across the room just as he was moving to the door. 'You're not going to
those imps--'

Owen moved his head, and stepped forward.

'I'll settle them.'

Renewed cries met his ears. 'No--a strange place--' he said. 'I must--'

He put his brother-in-law back with his hand, and was gone. The captain
could not contain his vexation, 'That's the way those brats serve him
every night!' he exclaimed; 'they will not attempt to go to sleep without
him! Why, I've found him writing his sermon with the boy wrapped up in
blankets in his lap; there's no sense in it.'

After about ten minutes, during which Mr. Sandbrook did not reappear,
Captain Charteris muttered something about going to see about him, and
stayed away a good while. When he came down, he came and sat down by
Honora, and said, 'He is going to bed, quite done for.'

'That must be better for him than talking here.'

'Why, what do you think I found? Those intolerable brats would not stop
crying unless he told them a story, and there was he with his voice quite
gone, coughing every two minutes, and romancing on with some allegory
about children marching on their little paths, and playing on their
little fiddles. So I told Miss Cilly that if she cared a farthing for
her father, she would hold her tongue, and I packed her up, and put her
into her nursery. She'll mind me when she sees I will be minded; and as
for little Owen, nothing would satisfy him but his promising not to go
away. I saw that chap asleep before I came down, so there's no fear of
the yarn beginning again; b