th--any _man_ will
understand how impossible it is for me to stand it any longer. I don't
mind if he did hear me shouting last night. There's a limit to endurance.
But I wish mamma didn't look so pale. Of course they'll make out it's
all _my_ fault."

And feeling himself and his grievances of even more consequence than
usual, Master Geoff stalked off.

Great-Uncle Hoot-Toot made his appearance in the afternoon rather earlier
than he was expected. He found Mrs. Tudor alone in the drawing-room, and
had a talk with her by themselves, and then Vicky was sent for, to make
his acquaintance. The little girl came into the drawing-room looking
very much on her good behaviour indeed--so much so that Elsa and Frances,
who were with her, could scarcely help laughing.

"How do you do, my dear?" said her great-uncle, looking at her with his
bright eyes.

"Quite well, thank you," replied the little girl.

"Hoot-toot!" said the old gentleman; "and is that all you've got to say
to me?--a poor old fellow like me, who have come all the way from India
to see you."

Vicky looked up doubtfully, her blue eyes wandered all over Great-Uncle
Hoot-Toot's queer brown face and trim little figure. A red flush spread
slowly upwards from her cheeks to the roots of her fair hair, and by the
peculiar droop in the corners of her mouth, Elsa, who was nearest her,
saw that tears were not far off.

"What is it, Vicky dear?" she whispered. "What _will_ he think of the
children? Geoff in a temper, and Vicky crying for nothing!" she said to
herself. "You are not frightened?" she added aloud.

"No," said Vicky, trying to recover herself. "It's only about Geoff. I
want to ask--_him_--not to be angry with Geoff."

"And why should I be angry with Geoff?" said the old gentleman, his eyes
twinkling. "Has he been saying so to you?"

"Oh no!" the little girl eagerly replied. "Geoff didn't say anything. It
was Harvey and Martha. They said they hoped he'd find his master now
_you'd_ come, and that it was time he had some of his nonsense whipped
out of him. You won't whip him, will you? Oh, please, please say you
won't!" and she clasped her hands beseechingly. "Geoff isn't naughty
_really_. He doesn't mean to be naughty."

The tears were very near now.

"Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!" said Mr. Byrne. "Come, come, my little Vic; I
don't like this at all. So they've been making me out an ogre. That's
too bad. Me whip Geoff! Why, I think he could better whip me--a st