in that
apartment most distant from the front porch; and, twenty minutes later,
Penrod descended to dinner. The Rev. Mr. Kinosling had asked for the
pleasure of meeting him, and it had been decided that the only course
possible was to cover up the scandal for the present, and to offer an
undisturbed and smiling family surface to the gaze of the visitor.

Scorched but not bowed, the smouldering Penrod was led forward for the
social formulae simultaneously with the somewhat bleak departure of
Robert Williams, who took his guitar with him, this time, and went in
forlorn unconsciousness of the powerful forces already set in secret
motion to be his allies.

The punishment just undergone had but made the haughty and unyielding
soul of Penrod more stalwart in revolt; he was unconquered. Every time
the one intolerable insult had been offered him, his resentment had
become the hotter, his vengeance the more instant and furious. And,
still burning with outrage, but upheld by the conviction of right, he
was determined to continue to the last drop of his blood the defense
of his honour, whenever it should be assailed, no matter how mighty or
august the powers that attacked it. In all ways, he was a very sore boy.

During the brief ceremony of presentation, his usually inscrutable
countenance wore an expression interpreted by his father as one of
insane obstinacy, while Mrs. Schofield found it an incentive to inward
prayer. The fine graciousness of Mr. Kinosling, however, was unimpaired
by the glare of virulent suspicion given him by this little brother: Mr.
Kinosling mistook it for a natural curiosity concerning one who might
possibly become, in time, a member of the family. He patted Penrod upon
the head, which was, for many reasons, in no condition to be patted with
any pleasure to the patter. Penrod felt himself in the presence of a new
enemy.

"How do you do, my little lad," said Mr. Kinosling. "I trust we shall
become fast friends."

To the ear of his little lad, it seemed he said, "A trost we shall
bick-home fawst frainds." Mr. Kinosling's pronunciation was, in fact,
slightly precious; and, the little lad, simply mistaking it for some
cryptic form of mockery of himself, assumed a manner and expression
which argued so ill for the proposed friendship that Mrs. Schofield
hastily interposed the suggestion of dinner, and the small procession
went in to the dining-room.

"It has been a delicious day," said Mr. Kinosling, pre