tea-cups--for Mr. and Mrs. Winton had now come in, and all were
seated at the table--Henry began to feel more at home among the family,
and Mr. Winton proved to be a quiet, homely person, though Henry noticed
that Edgar lost to some extent his high spirits when his father came on
the scene. Evidently the Wintons were people "in reduced circumstances,"
for both the father and mother showed signs of superior breeding.

"I hope you will get on all right at the _Guardian_," Mr. Winton
remarked. "You won't be short of work, if Edgar is a sample. He's always
slogging away at something. If it's not the police courts, it's a
political meeting, or a--"

"Tea-fight, dad."

"Slang again, Eddie," put in Flo.

"Yes. Edgar delights in these flippancies; his trade seems to induce
that," said Mrs. Winton. "Will you pass your cup, Mr. Charles?"

As Henry handed his cup to Flo, almost dropping it in the excitement of
being dubbed "Mister," Edgar took up his mother's words, and exclaimed,
with simulated indignation:

"Trade! Who calls it a trade? Remember, mater, that journalism is a
profession--the Fourth Estate!"

"There's not much profession about attending inquests on suicides, and
writing about the drunks and disorderlies," Flo remarked, fearless of
her brother's displeasure.

"Come, come now," interposed Mr. Winton, who had not spoken since Edgar
broke in upon his remarks. "You mustn't give our young friend too low an
opinion of his new business," and turning to Henry, he remarked: "It is
your first appointment, is it not?"

"Yes, I have only done some odds and ends for the _Guardian_ when at
Stratford. Of course, I'm hoping to do some good work here, but we must
do the small things before we are able to do the great ones, I think."

A long speech for Henry to make before company, and not performed
without an effort.

"True, indeed, for only those who can do the little things well can do
the great things well," was Mr. Winton's comment.

"And I was only joking," added Flo, looking archly at Henry, whose eyes
immediately contemplated the lessening liquid in his cup. "Journalism is
all very well, I'm sure, but newspaper fellows are so conceited that I
think we need to take some of the side off them."

"Who's talking slang now?" from Edgar.

"Well, it may be slangy, but it's true; and I hope Mr. Charles won't
fall into the habit of talking as if, because a man writes paragraphs in
a printed paper, he knows more than So