she had been always with
_maman_--she had told him that brandy made people mad and wicked--and he
did not want to be mad and wicked--and he had promised Susan never to
drink brandy; and the naughty gentleman wanted him to take it, and he
would not--would not--would not!----"

"Hush, dear," said Janetta, gently. "There is no need to cry over it.
You know you kept your word as a gentleman should."

The boy's eyes flashed through his tears. "Father thinks I'm a--I'm a
milksop," he faltered.

"Show him that you are not," said Janetta. She saw that it was no use to
talk to Julian as to a baby. "If you are always brave and manly he won't
think so."

"I _will_ be always brave," said the little fellow, choking back his
sobs and regarding her with the clear, fearless gaze which she had
noticed in him from the first. And at this moment a door opened, and
Mrs. Brand, who had heard voices, came out in some surprise to see what
was the matter.

Janetta was glad to see the loving way in which the boy ran into his
grandmother's arms, and the tenderness with which she received him. Mrs.
Brand courteously invited her guest into the drawing-room, but her
attention was given far more to little Julian than to Janetta, and in
two minutes he had poured the whole story into her ear. Mrs. Brand did
not say much; she sat with him in her lap looking excessively pained and
grieved; and that frozen look of pain upon her face made Janetta
long--but long in vain--to comfort her. Tea was brought in by-and-bye,
and then Julian was dismissed to his nursery--whither he went
reluctantly, holding his face up to be kissed by Janetta, and asking her
to "come back soon." And when he was gone, Mrs. Brand seemed unable to
contain herself any longer, and broke forth passionately.

"A curse is on us all--I am sure of that. The boy will be ruined, and by
his father too."

"Oh, no," Janetta said, earnestly. "His father would not really hurt
him, I feel sure."

"You do not know my son. He is like his own father, my husband--and that
is the way my husband began with Wyvis."

"But--he did not succeed?"

"Not altogether, because Wyvis had a strong head, and drew back in time;
but his father did him harm--untold harm. His father was a bad man. I do
not scruple to say so, although he was my husband; and there is a taint,
a sort of wild strain, in the blood. Even the boy inherits it; I see
that too clearly. And Wyvis--Wyvis will not hold himself in for long.