charming manners!" said Edith
scornfully. "You would grace any drawing-room, Dick.--Come away,
mamma; we shall be late. Papa will soon bring his dutiful son to his
proper senses."

"Well spoken, Edith," said Mrs. Blake, sweeping indignantly from the
room; "the boy is a perfect boor. I trust he may show more honour to
his father than he has accorded to me."

The door closed softly behind the unwelcome guests, the light footsteps
died away in the distance, and Winnie and Dick were once more alone in
the little oak parlour, with the dancing firelight playing on their
faces and roguishly deepening the tint on their youthful cheeks.

Dick's book had dropped from his knees, and was lying with crumpled
leaves on the rug, while the boy, his hands tightly clenched, sat in
moody silence; and Winnie's tender heart ached as she watched him.
Slipping from her chair, she crossed over to his side, and nestling
down, laid her pretty head on his arm, saying with a quiver in her
voice, "Dick, my dear, good boy, don't look like that; I can't bear it.
Oh, why do they say such things to you?" Here the tears forced
themselves into the bright eyes as she spoke.

Dick gave the fender a vicious kick ere he replied: "I tell you what it
is, Win: one of these days I'll run away. No, no; don't strangle me
and say I won't, for I tell you I _will_. A fellow can't be expected
to stand this sort of thing all his life. I'm sick of it. Hallo!
what's up?" for Winnie's arms were clasped tightly round his neck and
the great tears were running silently down her cheeks.

"Don't go, Dick, oh, don't go!" she pleaded frantically, half choking
the boy with her violent embraces. "Whatever should I do without you?
Dick, you must not go; only wait, and all will come right in the end.
Promise, promise!" and the little gipsy face looked pitiful in its wild
terror.

Dick's heart melted.

"There, there, dry your eyes, you wee goose; I was only teasing you.
Why, what a disconsolate-looking object somebody is!" and laughing his
sister out of her fright, the two sat chatting merrily till bed-time,
when Winnie went away to her own dainty room, and Dick also sought his
den.

Then, when alone in the darkness, the merriment died out of his face,
and as he lay thinking over his wrongs, real and imaginary, bitter
feelings swept over his heart, and the idle threat began to form itself
into fixed determination. "I would go right off to-night were it not
for W