it down, or whose fault it was. Your
mother told you to pick up your mug, and we are waiting to have you do
it. Don't talk about it any more. Nobody thinks it is at all smart or
funny for boys to disobey their mothers!"

"It will take you JUST one second, dear," interpolated Jean softly,
"and then we will all go upstairs and get ready, and forget all about
it."

"Just a little too much c-i-r-c-u-s!" spelled Mrs. Moore, in the pause.

"Pick it up, son!" said Sidney, very calm.

Peter stopped smiling. He breathed hard and took a firm hold of his
chair.

"Go on. Go ahead!" said his father, briskly, encouragingly.

The child moved his eyes from the mug to his father's face, but did not
stir.

"Peter?" said Sidney. A white line had come about his mouth.

For a long moment there was not a sound in the rooms. Julia stood
transfixed at the door. Mrs. Moore's eyes were on her plate. Jean's
lips were shut tight; she was breathing as if she had been running.

"I won't!" said Peter, simply, with a quick breath.

"Sid!" said Jean, hurriedly. "Sidney!"

"Just a moment, Jean," said her husband, without glancing at her. "You
will do it now, or have father punish you to make you do it," he said
to the boy. "Father can't have boys here who don't obey, you know.
Every one obeys. Soldiers have to, engineers have to, even animals have
to. Are you going to do what mother told you to?"

"No," said little Peter. "I said I wouldn't, and now I won't!"

"He is hot and excited now," said Jean, quickly, in French, "but I'll
take him upstairs and quiet him down. He'll come to his senses. Leave
him to me, dear!"

"Much the wisest thing to do, Sidney," supplemented Mrs. Moore, in the
same tongue.

"Certainly!" said his father, coldly. "Give him time. Let him
understand that if he doesn't obey, it means no circus. That's
reasonable, I think, Jean?"

"Oh, perfectly! Perfectly!" Mrs. Carolan assented nervously. Nothing
more was said as she took the boy's hand and led him away. The others
heard Peter chatting cheerfully as he mounted the stairway a moment
later.

"The boys and I will go down and look at Nellie's puppies," said Mrs.
Moore, acutely uncomfortable.

Her host muttered something about closing his mail.

"But are we going to the circus?" fretted little George Moore. His
mother hardly heard him.

A moment later, Julia, the maid, appealed to her submissively.

"Shall you pick up the cup?" repeated the doctor's wife. "No