"There are two new people come to live at Mrs. Sheppard's house," remarked Julius, "a lady and a boy. I saw him on the beach yesterday, and he seemed rather jolly. I mean to have him here to play with me sometimes."
"Listen to me, Julius," said his father; "you get quite enough of your own way as it is, but I do draw the line somewhere. Ask me for anything in reason and you'll get it, but to be allowed to bring within my doors any chance riff-raff you may happen to pick up, that I cannot and will not permit."
"He's not a riff-raff," answered Julius sulkily, "he's quite a gentleman, even if he has rather shabby clothes, and he's not come on chance. John says he's going to live here for some time."
"How often have I told you not to gossip with your groom," retorted Mr. Field. "If the earl chooses to allow his tenants to let lodgings it's no business of mine, and he may turn his end of the village into slums for all I care, but the part that belongs to me, I keep for myself and my own people. I've knocked about the world all my life, and now I've made my pile and settled down on my private estate, no one is to go wandering over it without my permission. I came here for quiet and solitude, and I mean to see that I get it, in spite of all the earls in creation. If you find that stranger woman or her boy trespassing within my grounds, let me know about it, and I'll soon teach them their place."
"I don't see why I shouldn't play with him," rejoined Julius, petulantly pushing back his chair from the table, and kicking his feet about. "You won't let me talk to John, and I don't like the gardener's boys; they're horrid rude fellows and won't do what I want."
"You've got everything you can desire that money will buy," answered his father sternly. "Only last month I gave you that thoroughbred pony which you had set your heart on, and which cost me a pretty penny, I assure you, though you're welcome to another if you wish, for all it matters to me. You've got the best games and books that can be bought, enough to stock a shop, and yet it appears you are not satisfied. There are motors in the garage, and boats on the lake, with servants at hand to do your every bidding, why should you go hankering after loafers you know nothing about, and who have the impudence to hang about my property against my express desire."
"It's no fun playing games by myself," grumbled Julius. "Now that old Finney has gone, I've not even got him to help me. I want a boy the same age as me, that I can lick if he gets cheeky, and who won't call me names, like the gardener's sons."
"Call you names, like the gardener's sons," repeated Mr. Field incredulously. "I never heard of such a thing. Benson shall have a piece of my mind about this before the day is out, and if he can't teach his cubs to behave themselves, he must look out for another situation, that's all. If things go on at the Good Hope mine as they have done in the past, the world will hear about you, Julius, and at no very distant time either. Folk must climb down when they speak to you, and treat you with fitting respect. You've had advantages that I never enjoyed, and some fine day, if I mistake not, you'll find yourself at the top of the tree; so in the meantime, my lad, don't price yourself too cheap, but just stand up with the best of them. There's a new tutor coming next term in place of Finney--a younger man who has carried off every prize he could win and charges accordingly, so you'd better get as much as you can out of him when he arrives, and leave this shabby young rascal and the gardener's boys to fight it out together upon the beach."
With a satisfied air, as if the last word had now been said, Mr. Field rose from his chair and sauntered out to charge Benson with the enormity of his offence, a congenial task which lost nothing in the doing. Meanwhile Julius, left to himself in the breakfast-room, proceeded to feed Pat, his Irish terrier, with chicken rissoles, until that amusement palled, and he whistled to the dog to follow him out of doors.
Aimlessly the child wandered round to the back of the house, where a row of splendid rabbit-hutches with pedigreed inhabitants claimed his attention for a few brief moments. There was nothing to do there, for the lad specially engaged to attend to their wants had just given them their morning meal, and each silky creature was already contentedly nibbling the tender cabbage leaves so plentifully provided for their repast. To excite Pat by inviting him to put his nose through the wire netting was the only interest in that quarter, and as the dog sensibly refused to respond, there was nothing for it but to go further afield.