nybody here doubts it, let them ask old Hannah Worth if
her nephew isn't a ----"

"Leave the room, sir!" exclaimed Walter, interrupting him before he
could add another word. "Your language and manners are so offensive as
to render your presence entirely inadmissible here! Leave the room,
instantly!"

"I won't!" said Alfred stoutly.

Walter was unwilling to release Ishmael from the tight, half-friendly,
half-masterly embrace in which he held him; else, perhaps, he might
himself have ejected the offender. As it was, he grimly repeated his
demand.

"Will you leave the room?"

"No!" replied Alfred.

"James, do me the favor to ring the bell."

James Middleton rang a peal that brought old Jovial quickly to the room.

"Jovial, will you go and ask your master if he will be kind enough to
come here; his presence is very much needed," said Walter.

Jovial bowed and withdrew.

"I shall go and complain to my father of the insults I have received!"
said Alfred, turning to leave the room; for he had evidently no wish to
meet the impending interview with Mr. Middleton.

"I anticipated that you would reconsider your resolution of remaining
here!" laughed Walter, as he let this sarcasm off after his retreating
foe.

He had scarcely disappeared through one door before Mr. Middleton
entered at another.

"What is all this about, Walter?" he inquired, approaching the group of
panic-stricken girls and wondering boys.

"Some new rudeness of Alfred Burghe, father; but he has just taken
himself off, for which I thank him; so there is no use in saying more
upon the subject for the present," replied Walter.

"There is no use, in any case, to disturb the harmony of a festive
evening, my son; all complaints may well be deferred until the morning,
when I shall be ready to hear them," replied Mr. Middleton, smiling, and
never suspecting how serious the offense of Alfred Burghe had been.

"And now," he continued, turning towards the band, "strike up the music,
professor! The summer evenings are short, and the young people must make
the most of this one. Walter, my son, you are to open the ball with your
cousin."

"Thank you very much, uncle; thank you, Walter, but my hand is engaged
for this set to Ishmael Worth; none but the winner of the first prize
for me!" said Claudia gayly, veiling the kindness that prompted her to
favor the mortified youth under a sportive assumption of vanity.

"Very well, then, where is the hero?" said