when the Colonel
was suffering from a bad evening at the tables; well out of sight and
hearing of Mary, be it understood, who on such occasions was apt to
develop a quite formidable temper.

It is over this question of the tables that one of these domestic
differences arose which in its results brought about the return of the
Monks to Monksland. Upon a certain afternoon the Colonel asked his son
to accompany him to Monte Carlo. Morris refused, rather curtly, perhaps.

"Very well," replied the Colonel in his grandest manner. "I am sure I
do not wish for an unwilling companion, and doubtless your attention is
claimed by affairs more important than the according of your company to
a father."

"No," replied Morris, with his accustomed truthfulness; "I am going out
sea-fishing, that is all."

"Quite so. Allow me then to wish good luck to your fishing. Does Mary
accompany you?"

"No, I think not; she says the boat makes her sick, and she can't bear
eels."

"So much the better, as I can ask for the pleasure of her society this
afternoon."

"Yes, you can ask," said Morris, suddenly turning angry.

"Do you imply, Morris, that the request will be refused?"

"Certainly, father; if I have anything to do with it."

"And might I inquire why?"

"Because I won't have Mary taken to that place to mix with the people
who frequent it."

"I see. This is exclusiveness with a vengeance. Perhaps you consider
that those unholy doors should be shut to me also."

"I have no right to express an opinion as to where my father should
or should not go; but if you ask me, I think that, under all the
circumstances, you would do best to keep away."

"The circumstances! What circumstances?"

"Those of our poverty, which leaves us no money to risk in gambling."

Then the Colonel lost all control of his temper, as sometimes happened
to him, and became exceedingly violent and unpleasant. What he said does
not matter; let it suffice that the remarks were of a character which
even headstrong men are accustomed to reserve for the benefit of their
women-folk and other intimate relations.

Attracted by the noise, which was considerable, Mary came in to find her
uncle marching up and down the room vituperating Morris, who, with quite
a new expression upon his face--a quiet, dogged kind of expression--was
leaning upon the mantel-piece and watching him.

"Uncle," began Mary, "would you mind being a little quieter? My father
is asleep upstair