elieve those children are gone crazy about their acting," said
Mrs. Langford; "and how Mr. Langford can encourage them in it I cannot
think. So silly of Bee to go off in this way, when she might just as
well have sent by Martin!" And her head being pretty much engrossed with
her present occupation, she went out to obey a summons from the kitchen,
without much perception of the consternation that prevailed in the
drawing-room.

"Did you know they were going, Henrietta?" asked Uncle Geoffrey, rather
sternly.

"No! I thought they meant to sent Alex. But O! uncle, do you think there
is any danger?" exclaimed she, losing self-control in the infection of
fear caught from the mute terror which she saw her mother struggling
to overcome. Her mother's inquiring, imploring glance followed her
question.

"Foolish children!" said Uncle Geoffrey, "I am very much vexed with the
Bee for her wilfulness about this scheme, but as for the rest, there is
hardly a steadier animal than old Dumple, and he is pretty well used to
young hands."

Henrietta thought him quite satisfied, and even her mother was in some
degrees tranquillized, and would have been more so, had not Mr. Roger
Langford begun to reason with her in the following style:--"Come, Mary,
you need not be in the least alarmed. It is quite nonsense in you.
You know a boy of any spirit will always be doing things that sound
imprudent. I would not give a farthing for Fred if he was always to be
the mamma's boy you would make him. He is come to an age now when you
cannot keep him up in that way, and he must get knocked about some time
or other."

"O yes, I know I am very foolish," said she, trying to smile.

"I shall send up Elizabeth to talk to you," said Uncle Roger. "She would
have a pretty life of it if she went into such a state as you do on all
such occasions."

"Enough to break the heart of ten horses, as they say in Ireland," said
Uncle Geoffrey, seeing that the best chance for her was to appear at
his ease, and divert his brother's attention. "And by the by, Roger, you
never told me if you heard any more of your poor Irish haymakers."

"Why, Geoffrey, you have an absent fit now for once in your life," said
his brother. "Are you the man to ask if I heard any more of them, when
you yourself gave me a sovereign to send them in the famine?"

Uncle Geoffrey, however, persevered, and finally succeeded in starting
Uncle Roger upon his favourite and inexhaustible subject of