fond of; teasing them occasionally, of course--all except his uncle, or
"Nunc," as Sir Hugo had taught him to say; for the baronet was the
reverse of a strait-laced man, and left his dignity to take care of
itself. Him Daniel loved in that deep-rooted filial way which makes
children always the happier for being in the same room with father or
mother, though their occupations may be quite apart. Sir Hugo's
watch-chain and seals, his handwriting, his mode of smoking and of
talking to his dogs and horses, had all a rightness and charm about
them to the boy which went along with the happiness of morning and
breakfast time. That Sir Hugo had always been a Whig, made Tories and
Radicals equally opponents of the truest and best; and the books he had
written were all seen under the same consecration of loving belief
which differenced what was his from what was not his, in spite of
general resemblance. Those writings were various, from volumes of
travel in the brilliant style, to articles on things in general, and
pamphlets on political crises; but to Daniel they were alike in having
an unquestionable rightness by which other people's information could
be tested.

Who cannot imagine the bitterness of a first suspicion that something
in this object of complete love was _not_ quite right? Children demand
that their heroes should be fleckless, and easily believe them so:
perhaps a first discovery to the contrary is hardly a less
revolutionary shock to a passionate child than the threatened downfall
of habitual beliefs which makes the world seem to totter for us in
maturer life.

But some time after this renewal of Daniel's agitation it appeared that
Sir Hugo must have been making a merely playful experiment in his
question about the singing. He sent for Daniel into the library, and
looking up from his writing as the boy entered threw himself sideways
in his armchair. "Ah, Dan!" he said kindly, drawing one of the old
embroidered stools close to him. "Come and sit down here."

Daniel obeyed, and Sir Hugo put a gentle hand on his shoulder, looking
at him affectionately.

"What is it, my boy? Have you heard anything that has put you out of
spirits lately?"

Daniel was determined not to let the tears come, but he could not speak.

"All changes are painful when people have been happy, you know," said
Sir Hugo, lifting his hand from the boy's shoulder to his dark curls
and rubbing them gently. "You can't be educated exactly as I w