"Full ten minutes late, and I
expected you sooner than usual to-night."

"I didn't know you expected me sooner, Maggie. Here's Phil come to have
tea with us."

"Oh, Phil, how are you?" said Mrs Crashington, greeting her brother
with a smile, and shaking him heartily by the hand.

"Ah, if you'd only receive _me_ with a smile like that, _how_ different
it might be," thought Ned; but he _said_ nothing.

"Now, then, stoopid," cried Mrs Crashington, turning quickly round on
her husband, as if to counteract the little touch of amiability into
which she had been betrayed, "how long are you going to stand there in
people's way staring at the fire? What are you thinking of?"

"I was thinking of you, Maggie."

"H'm! thinking no good of me, I dare say," replied Maggie, sharply.

"Did your conscience tell you that?" asked Ned, with a heightened
colour.

Maggie made no reply. One secret of her bad temper was that she had all
her life been allowed to vent it, and now that she was married she felt
the necessity of restraining it very irksome. Whenever she had gone far
enough with Ned, and saw that he was not to be trifled with, she found
that she possessed not only power to control her temper, but the sense,
now and then, to do so! On the present occasion she at once busied
herself in preparing tea, while Ned sat down opposite his
brother-in-law, and, taking Fred, his only child, a handsome boy of
about five years of age, on his knee, began to run his fingers through
his jet black curly hair.

"Did you get your tasks well to-day, Fred?" asked Ned.

"No, father."

"No?" repeated Ned in surprise; "why not?"

"Because I was playin' with May Dashwood, father."

"Was that a good reason for neglecting your dooty?" demanded Ned,
shaking his head reproachfully, yet smiling in spite of himself.

"Iss, father," replied the boy boldly.

"You're wrong, Fred. No doubt you might have had a worse reason, but
_play_ is not a good reason for neglect of dooty. Only think--what
would be said to me if I was called to a fire, and didn't go because I
wanted to play with May Dashwood?"

"But I was sent for," pleaded Fred. "Mrs Dashwood had a big--oh,
_such_ a big washin', an' sent to say if I might be let go; an' mother
said I might, so I went."

"Ah, that alters the case, Fred," replied his father, patting the boy's
head. "To help a woman in difficulties justifies a'most anything.
Don't it, Phil?"

Thus appealed to, Phil sa