whether they loved one another, whether they loved mamma, and whether they wanted a right good whipping.  At last, exasperated by her own inability to restore order, she seized the baby, which had cried incessantly throughout, and, declaring that it was doing it on purpose and should have something real to cry for, gave it an exemplary smacking, and ordered the others to bed.  The boy, awed by the fate of his infant brother, offered, by way of compromise, to be good if Miss Wylie would come and play with him, a proposal which provoked from his jealous mother a box on the ear that sent him howling to his cot.  Then she left the room, pausing on the threshold to remark that if she heard another sound from them that day, they might expect the worst from her.  On descending, heated and angry, to the drawing-room, she found Agatha there alone, looking out of window as if the landscape were especially unsatisfactory this time.

“Selfish little beasts!” exclaimed Jane, making a miniature whirlwind with her skirts as she came in.  “Charlie is a perfect little fiend.  He spends all his time thinking how he can annoy me.  Ugh!  He’s just like his father.”

“Thank you, my dear,” said Sir Charles from the doorway.

Jane laughed.  “I knew you were there,” she said.  “Where’s Gertrude?”

“She has gone out,” said Sir Charles.

“Nonsense!  She has only just come in from driving with me.”

“I do not know what you mean by nonsense,” said Sir Charles, chafing.  “I saw her walking along the Riverside Road.  I was in the village road, and she did not see me.  She seemed in a hurry.”

“I met her on the stairs and spoke to her,” said Agatha, “but she didn’t hear me.”

“I hope she is not going to throw herself into the river,” said Jane.  Then, turning to her husband, she added:  “Have you heard the news?”

“The only news I have heard is from this paper,” said Sir Charles, taking out a journal and flinging it on the table.  “There is a paragraph in it stating that I have joined some infernal Socialistic league, and I am told that there is an article in the ‘Times’ on the spread of Socialism, in which my name is mentioned.  This is all due to Trefusis; and I think he has played me a most dishonorable trick.  I will tell him so, too, when next I see him.”

“You had better be careful what you say of him before Agatha,” said Jane.  “Oh, you need not be alarmed, Agatha; I know all about it.  He told us in the library.  We went out this morning—­Gertrude and I—­and when we came back we found Mr. Trefusis and Agatha talking very lovingly to one another on the conservatory steps, newly engaged.”

“Indeed!” said Sir Charles, disconcerted and displeased, but trying to smile.  “I may then congratulate you, Miss Wylie?”

“You need not,” said Agatha, keeping her countenance as well as she could.  “It was only a joke.  At least it came about in a jest.  He has no right to say that we are engaged.”