was
wholly due to Wun Lung's skill, and not, as she fancied, to her brief
supervision.

When the meal was over, Aunt Sally retreated to the kitchen, after
forcing Mrs. Trent to lie down and rest, "whether or no;" and to aid
the lady's slumbers, there presently arose from without the lusty cries
of two small lads who had returned from some prank, late as usual, and
as usual, desperately hungry.

"I will have my dinner, so there, you old Aunt Sally! I will go tell
my mother--I won't be spanked--I won't I--I--I----"

"Wonbepanked!" screamed another childish treble.

"Yes, you will, the brace of you. Spare the rod and spoil the child.
That's what Gabriella does, all the time, soft-hearted dear that she
is. A good, sound spanking once in six months is all that keeps you in
a state of salvation. If it wasn't for me I don't know what in reason
you little tackers would grow up to be. One thing I do know, though, and
so do you, and that is--that while your old Aunt Sally is at Sobrante
ranch you'll never be late to your victuals again."

In this events proved that the speaker was right, as, indeed, she had
often been before on similar occasions.

Knowing that this little family jar would result in no serious harm to
her idolized son, Mrs. Trent lay still and thought, but did not sleep.
How could she? What a subtle thing is suggestion!

Poor, overburdened Gabriella Trent had known and trusted old Epbraim
Marsh for many years; yet the words of Antonio, and now of this stranger
within her gates, lingered in her memory and would not then leave.

Up in his pleasant guest chamber Mr. Hale felt within himself the
increasing vigor of returning health, tempered for the moment, it may
be, by a little indiscretion of diet; yet the assertion of that noisy
old woman below stairs, that he was, despite all, on the verge of some
serious illness, so worked upon his still weakened nerves that he
could neither sleep nor forget them.

The result in both cases was unfortunate.

That evening Mrs. Trent forbade her daughter the rifle practice for
which, promply on his return, Ephraim had made special preparation. Her
refusal hurt the old fellow, already sensitive from a previous injury,
and he reflected, bitterly, as he once more sought his monkish chamber:

"After all, whoever dismissed me was right. I'm too old for use. I'd
better never have come back."

As for Mr. Hale, brooding and an unwise exposure to the night air on the
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