t met her, and putting on an aspect of severity
which was very unusual to her. Geoff seized and clung to her arm as he
was wont, and found it trembling. He had begun to pour forth his wonder
about Theo even before he made this discovery.

"Why, Theo has gone away! He wouldn't stop for lunch. I shouted to him,
but he never paid any attention. Is he ill, or is he in trouble, or
what's the---- Why, mamma! you are all trembling!"

"Nonsense, Geoff, I have been--sitting with the window open: and it is a
little cold to-day."

"Cold!" Geoff was so struck by the absurdity of the statement that he
stopped to look at her. "Ah," he said, "you have not been running up and
down to the stables or you never would think that."

"No, I have been sitting--writing."

"Oh!" said the child again, "were you writing all the time Theo was
there? I thought you were talking to Theo. He gave me a holiday because
he had something he wanted to say to you."

"I have told you a great many times, Geoff, that you should not call Mr.
Warrender Theo. It is much too familiar. You must not presume because he
is so very kind to you----"

"Oh, he doesn't mind," said Geoff lightly. "What was he saying to you,
mamma?"

By this time they were at table, that is, she was at the bar, seated
indeed as a concession to her weakness, about to be tried for her life
before those august judges, Geoff and old Soames, both of whom had their
attention fixed on her with an intentness which the whole bench could
scarcely equal. She held her head very high, but she did not dare to
lift up her eyes.

"Will you have this, or some of the chicken?" she asked, with a voice of
solemnity not quite adapted to the question.

"I say, mamma, was it about me? or was it some trouble he was in?"

"My dear Geoff, let us attend to our own business. The chicken is better
for you. And why have you been running up and down to the stables? I
thought I had said that I objected to the stables."

By dint of thus carrying the war into the enemy's country, she was able
to meet her boy's keen eyes, which were sharp with curiosity, "like
needles," as old Soames said. Soames, the other of her judges, gave
his verdict without hesitation. "She have given him the sack," he said
confidentially to the housekeeper, as soon as he could spare a moment.
"And a very good thing too." The housemaids had come to the same
conclusion, seeing Theo's hurried exit, and the rate at which he walked
down the a