to tell you. I know you'll be vexed,
but I must tell you the truth. I haven't got on a bit--I tried to
practise at first, but I _can't_ get to play, and I hate it--I mean I
hate not being able to play--and please, mother, I want to leave it
off."

A rather sad look came over Lady Iltyd's face, but she only said
quietly--

"Very well, Basil. You have quite made up your mind, I suppose?"

"Yes," he replied. "You know you always said, mother, I needn't go on
with it if I didn't--if it was too difficult," for he could not
truthfully say "if I didn't care for it."

"Yes. I told you it was no _necessity_. Very well, then, I will tell
Herr Wildermann to-morrow."

"But, mother," Basil hesitated, "I didn't want you to be vexed about
it."

"I am not _vexed_," his mother replied. "My disappointment is another
matter. But I will keep to what I said. It is better for you to give it
up than to make a trouble of it to yourself and others. Now run away,
for I am busy."

Basil went out of the room slowly, and not feeling altogether happy in
his mind. "It isn't fair of mother," he said to himself; "she told me I
needn't go on with it if I didn't like, and she never said she'd be
vexed if I gave it up, and she is vexed." But he would not remember how
much and often his mother had warned him before he began, how she had
told him of the patience and perseverance required, and how he had
refused to believe her! And, boy-like, he soon forgot all about it in a
game with Blanche and the dogs in the garden, or remembered it only with
a feeling of relief that he need not cut short his play to go in to
practise his unlucky violin. But a remark of his little sister's rather
destroyed his equanimity.

"I'm going in now, Basil," she said with the little "proper" air she
sometimes put on; "I've not finished my scales yet, and I won't have
time after tea. And you should go in for your violin, Basil. Come
along."

"No," said Basil, rolling himself again lazily on the smooth lawn; "I'm
not going to bother with it any more. I've given it up."

Blanche's eyes opened wide.

"Oh, Basil!" she exclaimed. "How sorry mother will be!"

"Rubbish," said Basil, roughly. "Mother always said I might leave it off
if I liked. I don't want you to preach to me, Blanche." Upon which
Blanche walked away, her little person erect with offended dignity.

Basil did not feel happy, but he called the dogs to him and went off
whistling.

The next day was a hal