heir party, and Reggie . . . Reggie would not be back till quite
late, when he, too, was going to the fancy-dress dance. Reggie need
never know anything about it.

By this time he had reached the study door, and stood with his hand
upon the handle. And as he waited, screwing his courage to the
sticking point, there came into his mind the words of a psalm that he
had learned by heart only last Sunday to repeat to his mother. He
learned it more easily than usual because he liked it; when she read it
to him he found he could remember it, and now, just as a dark room is
transiently illumined by the falling together of the fire in sudden
flame, there came into Ger's mind the words, "He that sweareth to his
own hurt and changeth not." He turned the handle and went in.

The squire was sitting in his big armchair in front of the fire reading
_Marius the Epicurean_, and trying to compose his nerves, which still
vibrated unpleasantly after all the fuss about the shilling. He had
even quoted to himself somewhat testily something about "fugitive
things not good to treasure"; but whether he referred to the nimbly
disappearing shilling, or to the protestations of Grantly and Mary, was
not clear. He generally solaced himself with Pater when perturbed, and
he had nearly persuaded himself that he was once more nearly attuned to
"perfect tone, fresh and serenely disposed of the Roman Gentleman,"
when Ger opened the door, and walked over towards him without shutting
it--an unpardonable offence at any time.

"Gervais," exclaimed the squire, and his tone was the reverse of
serene, "Why are you not in the schoolroom? What on earth do you want?"

Ger went back and shut the door carefully and quietly, and once more
crossed the room till he stood directly in front of his father. The
squire noted with a little pang of compunction how pale the child was.
"What is it?" he said more gently.

"Father, I've come about that shilling. I took it."

"_You_ took it," exclaimed the squire in amazement. "Why?"

Here was a poser. Ger was so absolutely unused to lying that he was
quite unprepared for any such question as this, so he was silent.

"Why did you take it?" angrily reiterated his father. "And what have
you done with it? Answer at once. You know perfectly well that it is
a most shocking breach of good manners to ignore a question in this
fashion."

"I took it," repeated Ger stupidly, his large grey eyes looking into
space be