He ran over his recent misdemeanors in his head, checking them off with his fingers and his father, seeing it was likely to be a long job, sat down to breakfast.
"Well, Humphrey!" he questioned, after a pause, "have you remembered?"
"No, I can't," answered the boy, "but I'm sure Virginie will. Shall I run up and ask her?"
Sir Everard was amused, but a little provoked. It seemed such a hopeless task ever to make an impression upon Humphrey. But he only said, "No, you need not do that; I think I can tell you a little about it. Come and sit down here."
Sir Everard turned the tap of the urn, and put on the longest face he could think of. "I am sorry to hear from Virginie," he began, looking full at Humphrey, so as to make sure he was gaining his attention, "that you have——"
He stopped in despair, for Humphrey's eyes had wandered to the tap, and his mind was intent on the running water.
"Are you listening to me, Humphrey?"
"Take care!" was all Humphrey's answer jumping up from his chair, and clapping his hands; "turn it off! quick! look! look! father!"
There was no help for it, Sir Everard had to break off his discourse, and attend to the water, which was running all over the table, and the boy's laughter was so infectious that he joined heartily in it.
"I give it up," he said to himself; "it's no use trying to make an impression on anything so volatile."