l. "It was a
boyish misunderstanding."

"You may call it that," retorted Mrs. Ross, raising her voice. "I call
it a high-handed outrage. The boy ought to be arrested. Are you going to
do anything about it, Philander Ross?"

Mrs. Ross generally addressed her husband by his Christian name when she
was angry with him.

"I will tell you what I will do, Lucinda. I will see Mead, and tell him
that a boy who acts in that way is not fit to drive for him."

"That's right, father. Make him discharge Harry. Then he'll have to go
to the poorhouse, or beg."

"And a very suitable punishment for him," said Mrs. Ross, approvingly.

"I don't quite like to take the boy's means of living away from him,"
said Colonel Ross, who was by no means as unfeeling as his wife and son.
"That would make his mother suffer, and she has been guilty of no
crime."

"She will uphold him in his iniquity, you may rest assured, Mr. Ross,"
said his wife, nodding emphatically. "If she had brought up the boy to
be respectful to his superiors this would not have happened."

"He won't be able to pay damages if he loses his place," said Colonel
Ross.

"I don't care. I want him discharged from his situation."

"Well, Lucinda," said her husband, shrugging his shoulders, "you had
better undertake the management of the affair. I am very busy, and can't
spare the necessary time."

"I will!" said Mrs. Ross, with alacrity. "I will call on the boy's
mother, and also on Mr. Mead."

"Don't be too extreme, Lucinda. Remember, it isn't a hanging matter."

"I am not so sure but it ought to be. My poor child might have broken
his neck. Oh, it makes my blood run cold when I think that he might be
lying lifeless before me at this moment."

"Don't say such things, mother," said Philip, nervously, unpleasantly
affected by the picture his mother had drawn.

"I can't help saying it, for it might have happened."

"Where are you going to first, mother?" asked Philip.

"I will go first and call on Widow Gilbert. I consider her responsible,
for if she had brought up the boy better this would never have
happened."

"May I go with you?"

"No; I would rather go alone."

If Philip had only been scarred, or had a wound to show, his mother
would have taken him with her, to make her reproof more effective, but,
as he showed no marks of the encounter, she saw no advantage in his
presence.

"You just give it to her, mother," said Philip, in a tone of
satisfaction.

"I