The baronet acquiesced with a sigh. It was a job he particularly disliked. In the short time he was able to be with his children, he enjoyed seeing them all life and happiness; and he hated to bring a cloud over their bright faces.
Humphrey was hanging out of the window when his father went into the dining room, and Sir Everard was half afraid of calling him away, for fear of startling him, and causing him to fall out; but at the sound of his father's footsteps, the boy drew himself in and bounded towards him.
"Why did you not come and help me to dress this morning?" said Sir Everard, as he kissed him.
Humphrey looked rather bored. "Virginie wouldn't let me," he answered; "she thought it would be a good punishment."
Here was an opening! Sir Everard felt he ought not to let it slip.
"Punishment!" said he, trying to look very solemn; "I am sorry to hear you deserved punishing. Why, what have you been doing?"
Humphrey looked up to the ceiling, down to the ground, and all round the room. "I can't remember what it was, father!"
Sir Everard tried hard not to smile. "What is the use of scolding such a boy," thought he; "a child who does not even remember for what offence he is suffering?"
"Stop a minute!" cried Humphrey, who was still in an attitude of reflection, "perhaps I shall remember presently."