een punished at school."

"Glad, Dexter?"

"Yes, glad it was over. It was the worst part of it waiting to have
your whack!"

"Do you want to oblige me, Dexter?" said Helen, wincing at the boy's
words.

"Yes, of course I do. Want me to fetch something?"

"No. Once more I want you to promise to leave off some of those
objectionable words."

"But it's of no use to promise," cried the boy, with a look of angry
perplexity. "I always break my word."

"Then why do you!"

"I dunno," said Dexter. "There's something in me I think that makes me.
You tell me to be a good boy, and I say I will, and I always mean to
be; but somehow I can't. I think it's because nobody likes me,
because--because--because I came from there."

"Do I behave to you as if I did not like you?" said Helen reproachfully.

The boy was on his knees beside her in a moment, holding her hand
against his cheek as he looked up at her with his lip working, and a
dumb look of pitiful pleading in his eyes.

"I do not think I do, Dexter."

He shook his head, and tried to speak. Then, springing up suddenly, he
ran out of the study, dashed upstairs, half-blind with the tears which
he was fighting back, and then with his head down through the open door
into his bedroom, when there was a violent collision, a shriek followed
by a score more to succeed a terrific crash, and when in alarm Helen and
Mrs Millet ran panting up, it was to find Dexter rubbing his head, and
Maria seated in the middle of the boy's bedroom with the sherds of a
broken toilet pail upon the floor, and an ewer lying upon its side, and
the water soaking into the carpet.

"What is the matter?" cried Helen.

"I won't--I won't--I declare I won't put up with it no longer!" cried
the maid in the intervals of sundry sobs and hysterical cries.

"But how did it happen!" said Mrs Millet.

"It's--sit's--sit's--sit's--sit's--sit's--his tricks again," sobbed
Maria.

"Dexter!" cried Helen.

"Yes--es--Miss--es--ma'am," sobbed Maria. "I'd dide--I'd dide--I'd--
just half--half--half filled the war--war--war--ter--jug, and he ran--
ran--ran at me with his head--dead in the chest--and then--then--then--
then knocked me dud--dud--dud--down, and I'll go at once, I will--
there."

"Dexter," said Helen sternly; "was this some trick?"

"I don't know," said the boy sadly. "I s'pose so."

"But did you run at Maria and try to knock her down?"

"No," said Dexter. "I was going into my room in a