ollowed hard on the heels of the
crime, and banishment to the schoolroom for the rest of the evening was
Ger's lot. Had Mr Ffolliot belonged to a previous generation he would
probably, when angry, have whacked his sons and whacked them hard.
They would infinitely have preferred it. But his fastidious taste
revolted from the idea of corporal punishment, and his ingenuity in
devising peculiarly disagreeable penalties in expiation of their
various offences, was the cause of much tribulation to his indignant
offspring.

"Here _is_ mother!" cried Buz, "and she's got Reggie. Come down and
see him you others, but for heaven's sake, come quietly."

The Reggie in question was a young Sapper just then stationed at
Chatham, and a "very favourite cousin."

The Ffolliot children were in the somewhat unusual position of having
no uncles and aunts, and no cousins of their own, for the sad reason
that both their parents were "onlies." Therefore did they right this
omission on the part of providence in their own fashion, by adopting as
uncles, aunts, and cousins all pleasant guests.

Reggie wasn't even a second cousin; but his people being mostly in
India, he had for many years spent nearly all his holidays, and later
on his leave, at Redmarley, and he was very popular with the whole
family. Even Mr Ffolliot unbent to a dignified urbanity in his
presence. He approved of Reggie, who had passed seventh into Woolwich
and first into the Sappers, and Grantly always thanked his lucky stars
that he was destined for Field Artillery, and was not expected to
follow in Reggie's footsteps in the matter of marks.

Ger worshipped Reggie, and it was with a heart full of bitterness, and
eyes charged with hot tears that blurred the firelight into long bands
of crimson, that he leant against the schoolroom table, alone, while
the others all trooped off on tiptoe into the hall to give rapturous
though whispered greeting to their guest.

Reggie did not whisper though; the warning cards had no sort of effect
upon him, and the forlorn little figure drooping against the table
sprang erect and shook the big drops from his cheeks as he heard his
cousin's jolly voice "Where's my friend Ger?"--a murmured
explanation--then, "O _bad_ luck! I'll go to him--No don't come with
me--not for two minutes."

How Ger blessed him for that forethought! To be found in disgrace was
bad enough; but to be seen in tears, and by his whole family! . . .

Hastily sc