ruts along with head aloft and nose in the air.

Two under-gardeners are at work upon a flowerbed as he passes.

"What time is it, Master Philip?" says one, a boy about a year older
than Jonas.

"My good boy," said Jonas haughtily, "I don't carry a watch for your
benefit."

The gardener bit his lip, and surveyed the heir with unequivocal
disgust.

"Very well," he retorted; "I'll wait till a gentleman comes this way."

A flush of anger was visible on the cheek of Jonas despite his freckles.

"Do you mean to say I'm not a gentleman!" he demanded angrily.

"You don't act like one," returned Dan.

"You'd better not be impertinent to me!" exclaimed Jonas, his small gray
eyes flashing with indignation. "Take that back!"

"I won't, for it's true!" said Dan undauntedly.

"Take that, then!"

Jonas raised his cane and brought it down smartly on the young
gardener's shoulder.

He soon learned that he had acted imprudently. Dan dropped his rake,
sprang forward, and seizing the cane, wrenched it from the hands of the
young heir, after which he proceeded to break it across his knee.

"There's your cane!" he said contemptuously, as he threw the pieces on
the ground.

"What did you do that for?" demanded Jonas, outraged.

"Because you insulted me. That's why."

"How can I insult you? You're only a poor working boy!"

"I wouldn't change places with you," said Dan. "I'd like well enough to
be rich, but I wouldn't be willing to be as mean as you are."

"You'll suffer for this!" said Jonas, his little bead-like eyes glowing
with anger. "I'll have you turned off this very day, or as soon as my
father get's home."

"If he says I'm to go, I'll go!" said Dan. "He's a gentleman."

Jonas made his way to his mother's room. She noticed his perturbed look.

"What's the matter, my dear boy?" she asked. "What's the matter, Jonas?"

"I wish you'd stop calling me your dear boy," said Jonas angrily.

"I--I forget sometimes," said Mrs. Brent, with a half-sigh.

"Then you ought not to forget. Do you want to spoil everything?"

"We are alone now, Jonas, and I cannot forget that I am your mother."

"You'd better, if you know what's best for both of us," said Jonas.

Mrs. Brent was far from being a kind-hearted woman. Indeed she was very
cold, but Jonas was her only son, and to him she was as much attached as
it was possible for her to be to any one. Formerly he had returned her
affection in a slight degree, but since he had