t her plans for the entire day, was an outrage
impossible to forgive. If he was not out of his mind he ought to be,
for there was no other excuse for him that she could think of. What
_was_ to be done with such a boy? He was too old to be whipped, too
young to be sent to college, too delicate to be placed under
restraint. But she would let him feel the full force of her
indignation when he returned. He should apologise, he should eat his
fill of humble pie, he should beg for mercy on his knees. She had put
up with a good deal, but this last escapade was not to be overlooked.
Even Martha, when she came in to lay the cloth for lunch, could think
of nothing to say in extenuation of his offence.

It was certainly two hours before her excitement allowed her to sit
down and begin to knit. Even then--and naturally enough--while she was
musing the fire burned. It never occurred to her to reflect that there
must have been some _reason_ for Austin's extraordinary prank, and
that the first thing to be done was to discover what that was. She was
too angry to take this obvious fact into consideration, and so, when
Austin at last appeared, his eyes full of suppressed excitement and
his forehead bathed in sweat, her pent-up wrath found vent and she
flamed out at him in a rage.

For some minutes Austin stood quite silent while she stormed. If it
made her feel better to storm, well, let her do it. Half-a-dozen times
she demanded what he meant by his behaviour, and how he dared, and
whether he had suddenly gone crazy, and then went on storming without
waiting for his reply. Once, when he opened his mouth to speak, she
sharply told him to shut it again. It was clear, even to Martha, that
if Austin's conduct had been inexplicable, his aunt's was utterly
absurd.

"You've asked me several times what made me lock you up this morning,"
he said at last, when she paused for breath, "and each time you've
refused to let me answer you. That's not very reasonable, you know.
Now I've got something to tell you, but if you want to do any more
raving please do it at once and get it over, and then I'll have my
turn."

"Will you go to your room this instant and stay there?" cried Aunt
Charlotte, pointing to the door.

"Certainly not," replied Austin. "And now I'll ask you to listen to me
for a minute, for you must be tired with all that shouting." Aunt
Charlotte took up her work with trembling hands, ostentatiously
pretending that Austin was no lon