an full of broken sherds.

"Come, that's better," said Uncle Richard, disregarding his brother's
angry gesture. "Now, my dear Fanny, let me take you to the
drawing-room. The storm's over, and the sun is coming out. Don't let's
spoil my visit because the boys fell out and broke a vase."

"No, no, Richard," said Mrs Brandon, half hysterically, as she yielded
at once and took her brother-in-law's arm. "But you don't know. That
boy has the temper of a demon."

"What, Sam?"

"No, _no_, No! That boy Thomas. We haven't had a day's peace since he
came into the house. And now a fifty-pound vase broken. Oh! the wicked
boy."

"I didn't do it, aunt. It was Sam," came from the head of the
staircase.

"Ah! Silence there, sir!" shouted Uncle Richard. "How dare you stand
there listening! Be off, and make yourself decent for dinner."

"Richard!" cried Mrs Brandon, in a tone of remonstrance, "you surely
would not have that boy down to dinner now!"

"Why not, my dear sister?" he said, as they reached the drawing-room
floor.

"After breaking that vase?"

"Never mind the vase, Fanny."

"And nearly killing his cousin?"

"Nonsense, my dear, partial, motherly judge. Lookers-on see most of the
game," said Uncle Richard good-humouredly. "I was looking on from the
landing for some time, and from what I saw, I have no hesitation in
saying that Master Tom got as good as he gave."

"But oh, Richard!"

"Tut--tut! Listen to me, my dear. Boys will quarrel and fight
sometimes. I can remember a good many sets-to with Jem when we were
young. These two have fought, and it's all over."

"But you really don't know," began Mrs Brandon.

"Oh yes, I do. Master Tom is not perfect. There, there, forget it all
now; and let me send you a vase to replace the one broken. By the way,
I hope they will not be long with that dinner."

"Oh no, it will not be long now--that is, if that insolent woman will
condescend to send us up some."

"But she will," said Uncle Richard good-humouredly. "If she does not,
and the worst comes to the worst, we'll storm her kitchen and finish the
cooking ourselves. I'm a good cook in my way. Bachelors have their
whims."

"Ah, you don't know what London servants are."

"No," said Uncle Richard, smiling pleasantly at the flurried lady, who
was still troubled by the domestic storm through which she had just
passed. "Mrs Fidler is a very good old soul in her way, and the maid
has been with me