"I shall be very pleased to report progress, if you care to write and ask me, and tell me your whereabouts."
"Then I suppose it is to be good-by?" said Ormonde, almost sentimentally. "You are treating me devilishly ill."
"I do not see that." Here the boys came running up, at a signal from their mother.
"Well, my fine fellow," said Ormonde, laying his hand on Cecil's shoulder, "so you went to see your old uncle. Did he try to eat you?"
"No; but he is a nasty cross old man. He wouldn't speak a word to mammy, but took his stick and hobbled away."
"Yes, he is a wicked man, and I am afraid he will hurt auntie," put in Charlie.
Colonel Ormonde laughed rather more than the mother liked. "I think you may trust 'auntie' to take care of herself.—So you forced the old boy to retreat? What awful stories your sister-in-law must have told of you!" to Mrs. Liddell.
She was greatly annoyed, but, urged by all-powerful self-interest, she maintained a smooth face, and answered, "Oh yes, when Katherine kept worrying about our disturbing her uncle, the poor old man got up and left the room."
"Well, you must turn her flank, and be sure to let me know how matters progress. I suppose you will be here all the autumn?"
"I should think so; small chance of my going out of town," she returned, bitterly, and the words had scarce left her lips before she felt she had made a mistake. Men hate to be bothered with the discomforts of others.