As Eloquent neared the Manor gates—those great gates famous throughout the country for the gryphons on their posts and their wonderful fairy-like iron tracery—a little boy came out from amongst the tall chestnuts in the avenue. His face was dirty and his sailor-suit much the worse for wear, but his outstanding, high-bridged little nose and broad, confident smile proclaimed him one of the family. He stood right in the stranger's path, exclaiming:
"Hullo! had a scrap with the keeper?"
His tone proclaimed a purely friendly curiosity. "Certainly not,"
Eloquent answered, coldly. "I had the misfortune to slip and fall."
"Why ever didn't they clean you up a bit at the house?" the little boy asked.
"Your sister was kind enough to suggest it——"
"Which sister?"
"Miss——" he hardly liked to say "M. B.," and paused.
"Big or little? There's only two."
"Rather big, I should say."
"Oh, that's Mary—did she bump into you?"