ke out my _tapisserie_, and he will read to us
while we work. What a tableau!" cried the Contessa. "Domestic happiness,
which one only tastes in England. The Eden before the fall!"

It was at this moment that the gentlemen, _i.e._ Sir Tom and Jock,
appeared out of the dining-room. They had not lingered long after the
ladies. Sir Tom had been somewhat glum after they left. His look of
amusement was not so lively. He said sententiously, not so much to Jock
as to himself, "That woman is bent on mischief," and got up and walked
about the room instead of taking his wine. Then he laughed and turned to
Jock, who was musing over his orange skins. "When you get a fellow into
your house that is not much good--I suppose it must happen
sometimes--that knows too much and puts the young ones up to tricks,
what do you do with him, most noble Captain? Come, you find out a lot of
things for yourselves, you boys. Tell me what you do."

Jock was a little startled by this demand, but he rose to the occasion.
"It has happened," he said. "You know, unless a fellow's been awfully
bad, you can't always keep him out."

"And what then?" said Sir Tom. "MTutor sets his great wits to work?"

"I hope, sir," cried Jock, "that you don't think I would trouble MTutor,
who has enough on his hands without that. I made great friends with the
fellow myself. You know," said the lad, looking up with splendid
confidence, "he couldn't harm _me_----"

Sir Tom looked at him with a little drawing of his breath, such as the
experienced sometimes feel as they look at the daring of the
innocent--but with a smile, too.

"When he tried it on with me, I just kicked him," said Jock, calmly;
"once was enough; he didn't do it again; for naturally he stood a bit in
awe of me. Then I kept him that he hadn't a moment to himself. It was
the football half, when you've not got much time to spare all day. And
in the evenings he had poenas and things. When he got with two or three
of the others, one of us would just be loafing about, and call out
'Hallo, what's up?' He never had any time to go wrong, and then he got
to find out it didn't pay."

"Philosopher! sage!" cried Sir Tom. "It is you that should teach us;
but, alas, my boy, have you never found out that even that last argument
fails to tell--and that they don't mind even if it doesn't pay?"

He sighed as he spoke; then laughed out, and added, "I can at all events
try the first part of your programme. Come along and