His crime having been the surreptitious purloining of his grandmamma's darning cotton, and the subsequent immersion of the same in the inkstand, Vera feels quite a warm glow of approval towards the little culprit and his judiciously-planned piece of mischief.
"Vera, I insist upon that child being sent back into the corner!" exclaims Mrs. Daintree, angrily, bringing her large fist heavily down upon her knee.
"The child has been over-punished already," she answers, calmly, still administering the soothing solace of strawberry jam.
"Oh, Vera, pray keep the peace!" cries Marion, with clasped hands.
"Here, I am thankful to say, comes my son;" as a shadow passes the window, and Eustace's tall figure with the meekly stooping head comes in at the door. "Eustace, I beg that you will decide who is to be in authority in this house—your mother or this young lady. It is insufferable that every time I send the children into the corner Vera should call them out and give them cakes and jam."
Eustace Daintree looks helplessly from one to the other.
"My dear mother—my dear girls—what is it all about? I am sure Vera does not mean——"
"No, Vera only means to be kind, grandmamma," cries Marion, nervously; "she is so fond of the children——"
"Hold your tongue, Marion, and don't take your sister's part so shamelessly!"
Meanwhile Vera rises silently and pushes Tommy and all his enormities gently by the shoulders out of the room. Then she turns round and faces her foe.