alled it. Mother used to buy suits there for the kids
in the village for Easter, jolly decent suits they were, too."

"And does he keep on the 'Golden Anchor'?"

"I don't think so, but I don't know. Jolly good cheek marching through
our woods, as if they belonged to him. Wish I'd met him."

"My dear chap, we're the last people in the world who can say anything to
people for marching through other people's property, you especially.
Why, nine-tenths of the bad rows, ever since any of us could walk, have
been about that sort of thing."

"Good old Mary, that Radical chap's converted you. What else did he say?
Come on; get it off your chest."

At that moment, the door was opened by an elderly man-servant, who
announced: "The master wishes to speak to you, Miss Mary."

"Oh, Botticelli! Cimabue! Burne Jones!" Mary ejaculated. "The pater
must have been looking out of the window, too. What _bad_ luck."

"I wouldn't mention having _touched_ the chap in your interview with the
pater," Grantly called after her.

As Eloquent neared the Manor gates--those great gates famous throughout
the country for the gryphons on their posts and their wonderful
fairy-like iron tracery--a little boy came out from amongst the tall
chestnuts in the avenue. His face was dirty and his sailor-suit much the
worse for wear, but his outstanding, high-bridged little nose and broad,
confident smile proclaimed him one of the family. He stood right in the
stranger's path, exclaiming:

"Hullo! had a scrap with the keeper?"

His tone proclaimed a purely friendly curiosity. "Certainly not,"
Eloquent answered, coldly. "I had the misfortune to slip and fall."

"Why ever didn't they clean you up a bit at the house?" the little boy
asked.

"Your sister was kind enough to suggest it----"

"Which sister?"

"Miss----" he hardly liked to say "M. B.," and paused.

"Big or little? There's only two."

"Rather big, I should say."

"Oh, that's Mary--did she bump into you?"

Eloquent looked hopelessly puzzled, and the boy hastened to add:

"She's a bit of a gawk, you know, and awfully strong. I thought she
might have charged into you and knocked you over . . . she wouldn't mean
to do it . . ."

"I must be going," said Eloquent, "good-evening," and he hastened on his
way.

"Sorry you couldn't stop to tea," the small boy called after him
hospitably. "I'm Ger, so you'll know me again when you see me."

The child stood for a minute look