into the rain, at the
ducks paddling in the puddles until the darkness hid them.

And God knows, lad that I was, I tried to be civil to them. But my
tongue rebelled at the very sight of my uncle ('twas bred into me, I
suppose), and his fairest words seemed to me to contain a hidden sting.
Once, when he spoke in his innuendo of my father, I ran from the room to
restrain some act of violence; I know not what I should have done. And
Willis found me in the deserted, study of the doctor, where my hot tears
had stained the flowered paper on the wall. She did her best to calm me,
good soul, though she had her own troubles with my Lady Caroline to think
about at the time.

I had one experience with Master Philip before our visitors betook
themselves back to Kent, which, unfortunate as it was, I cannot but
relate here. My cousin would enter into none of those rough amusements
in which I passed my time, for fear, I took it, of spoiling his fine
broadcloths or of losing a gold buckle. He never could be got to
wrestle, though I challenged him more than once. And he was a well-built
lad, and might, with a little practice, have become skilled in that
sport. He laughed at the homespun I wore about the farm, saying it was
no costume for a gentleman's son, and begged me sneeringly to don leather
breeches. He would have none of the company of those lads with whom I
found pleasure, young Harvey, and Willis's son, who was being trained as
Mr. Starkie's assistant. Nor indeed did I disdain to join in a game with
Hugo, who had been given to me, and other negro lads. Philip saw no
sport in a wrestle or a fight between two of the boys from the quarters,
and marvelled that I could lower myself to bet with Harvey the younger.
He took not a spark of interest in the gaming cocks we raised together to
compete at the local contests and at the fair, and knew not a gaff from a
cockspur. Being one day at my wits' end to amuse my cousin, I proposed
to him a game of quoits on the green beside the spring-house, and thither
we repaired, followed by Hugo, and young Harvey come to look on. Master
Philip, not casting as well as he might, cries out suddenly to Hugo:
"Begone, you black dog! What business have you here watching a game
between gentlemen?"

"He is my servant, cousin," I said quietly, "and no dog, if you please.
And he is under my orders, not yours."

But Philip, having scarcely scored a point, was in a rage. "And I'll
not have him here," he sh