"No, sir," answered the boy sullenly.
"Tore it up, I suppose, on purpose?"
"Y-e-s," came the reply, slowly.
"Very well, you know the consequences."
"No, no, daddy; wait till he's done something more," interposed Ellice, dancing round her father, and grasping his arm persuasively.
His face at once softened.
"You think it won't be long before the trouble comes, eh?" he asked, pinching her cheek gently. His small daughter always seemed able to disarm his wrath.
"No—at least—I—mean——" she stammered.
"All right, old lady, I understand," he answered, smiling; then, turning to Margaret, "Women's wiles, Miss Woodford. Well, you are let off this time, young man," turning to his son; "you can thank your sister for it," and with this he left them.
For a few moments silence prevailed, and then Ellice, catching hold of her brother's arm, whispered: