,
gone straight up into the drawing room, not knowing that Mr. Mulready
was there. On opening the door and seeing him he paused suddenly for a
moment and then advanced. For a moment neither of them spoke, then Mr.
Mulready said in his frankest manner:

"Ned, you have heard I am going to marry your mother. I don't suppose
you quite like it; it wouldn't be natural if you did; I know I shouldn't
if I were in your place. Still you know your disliking it won't alter
it, and I hope we shall get on well together. Give me your hand, my lad,
you won't find me a bad sort of fellow."

"I hope not," Ned said quietly, taking Mr. Mulready's hand and
continuing to hold it while he went on: "I don't pretend I like it, and
I know it makes no difference whether I do or not; the principal point
is, that my mother should be happy, and if you make her happy I have
no doubt we shall, as you say, get on well together; if you don't, we
shan't."

There was no mistaking the threat conveyed in Ned's steady tones, and
Mr. Mulready, as Ned dropped his hand, felt that he should have more
trouble with the boy than he had expected. He gave a forced laugh.

"One would think, Ned, that you thought it likely I was going to be
unkind to your mother."

"No," Ned said quietly, "I don't want to think about it one way or the
other, only I promised my father I would be kind to my mother; that
means that I would look after her, and I mean to.

"Well, mother," he said in his usual tone, turning to Mrs. Sankey, "and
how are you this morning?"

"I was feeling better, Ned," she said sharply; "but your unpleasant way
of talking, and your nonsense about taking care of me, have made me feel
quite ill again. Somehow you always seem to shake my nerves. You never
seem to me like other boys. One would think I was a child instead of
being your mother. I thought after what you said to me that you were
going to behave nicely."

"I am trying to behave nicely," Ned said. "I am sure I meant quite
nicely, just as Mr. Mulready does; I think he understands me."

"I don't understand that boy," Mrs. Sankey said plaintively when Ned
had left the room, "and I never have understood him. He was dreadfully
spoiled when he was in India, as I have often told you; for in my weak
state of health I was not equal to looking after him, and his poor
father was sadly overindulgent. But he has certainly been much better
as to his temper lately, and I do hope, William, that he is not goi