one of the children except the Kitten ever
questioned any of Mr Ffolliot's decisions . . . to him.

"Have you done with me, father?" Mary asked. "I think it must be
tea-time."

"Yes, Mary, you may go, but remember, nothing of this sort must ever
occur again; it has distressed and annoyed me."

"I'm sorry, father, I didn't think . . ."

"You never do," said Mr Ffolliot, "that is what I complain of."

Thus it came about that Mr Ffolliot was himself directly responsible
for the friendly smile which greeted Eloquent as Mary passed him in the
aisle of Redmarley church that evening.

She had not been allowed to put up her hair that evening. She was not
a grown-up lady yet.

Therefore would she grin at whomsoever she pleased.

CHAPTER VII

THE KITTEN

The Kitten was born on a Whitsunday morning about eight o'clock. Mr
Ffolliot went himself to announce the news to Ger, who was sitting in
his high chair eating bread and milk at nursery breakfast. Ger was all
alone with Thirza, the under-nurse, and he was thunderstruck to see his
father at such an unusual hour, above all, in such an unusual place as
his nursery.

"Ger," said Mr Ffolliot, quite genially for him, "you've got a new
little sister."

Ger regarded his father solemnly with large, mournful eyes, then said
aggrievedly, "Well, _I_ can't help it."

Mr Ffolliot laughed. "You don't seem overjoyed," he remarked.

"Are you sorry, father?" Ger asked anxiously.

"Sorry," Mr Ffolliot repeated, "of course not; why should you think I'm
sorry?"

"Well, you see," said Ger, "it makes another of us."

Mr Ffolliot ignored this remark. He moved towards the door. At the
door he paused; "You may," he said graciously, "go and see your little
sister in an hour or two; mother said so."

As the door was closed behind him, Thirza sat down again with a sort of
gasp. "Whatever did you mean, my dear, talking to Squire like that?"
she demanded shrilly.

"Like what?" asked Ger.

"Sayin' as it wasn't your fault, and seemin' so down about it all.
Why, you ought to be glad there's a dear little new baby, and you such
an affectionate child an' all."

"It makes another of us," Ger persisted, and Thirza gave him up as an
enigma.

In due time he went to the dressing-room off the big spare bedroom, and
there sat the kind, comfortable lady he knew as "mother's nurse" (Ger
had not seen her as often as the others, but still she came from time
to time "just to see how