some chicken."

"Why, of course, my dear child!" Uncle James exclaimed, to everybody's
astonishment. "And have some yourself, Beth?"

"No, thank you," Beth answered. "I'm full."

"Beth!" her mother was beginning, when she perceived that Uncle James
was laughing.

"Now, that child is really amusing," he said--"_really_ amusing."

No one else thought this last enormity a happy specimen of her wit,
and they looked at Uncle James, who continued to laugh, in amazement.

"Beth," he said, "when luncheon is over I shall give you a
picture-book."

Beth accordingly had to stay behind with him after the others had left
the dining-room.

"Beth," he began in a terrible voice, as soon as they were alone
together, trying to frighten her; "Beth, what were you doing last
night?"

"I was meditating among the tombs," she answered glibly; "but I never
heard them called by that name before."

"You bad child, I shall tell your mamma."

"Oh for shame!" said Beth. "Tell-tale! And if you tell I shall. I saw
you kissing Jenny-penny."

Uncle James collapsed. He had been prepared to explain to Beth that he
had met the poor girl with some rustic lover, and was lecturing her
kindly for her good, and making her go in, which would have made a
plausible story had it not been for that accursed kissing. Of course
he could insist that Beth was lying; the child was known to be
imaginative; but then against that was the emotion he had shown. Lady
Benyon had no very high opinion of him, he knew, and once she obtained
a clue she would soon unravel the truth. No, the only thing was to
silence Beth.

"Beth," he said, "I quite agree with you, my dear child. I was only
joking when I said I would tell your mamma. Nothing would induce me to
tell tales out of school."

Beth smiled up at him frankly: "Nor me neither. I don't believe you're
such a bad old boy after all."

Uncle James winced. How he would have liked to throttle her! He
controlled himself, however, and even managed to make a smile as he
got up to leave the room.

"I say, though," Beth exclaimed, seeing him about to depart, "where's
that picture-book?"

"Oh!" he ejaculated. "I had forgotten. But no, Beth, it would never
do. If I give it to you now, it would look like a bribe; and I'm sure
you would never accept a bribe."

"I should think not," said Beth.

And it was long years before she understood the mean adroitness of
this last evasion.

CHAPTER XIV

There are th