down with us at our humble board, just as though he was a common person." "Children!" said Rose with soft reproach, but her voice trembled, and the imps were subjugated only outwardly. "Anything particular going on in Barrie?" queried the Commodore, turning to his eldest son. "Really, I can't say. I haven't been over in several days." "Oh, I imagined you were there last night." "I never go there at night," protested the young man, with unnecessary vehemence. It was clear to him now that his father and sister held a very low opinion of him indeed. Probably they thought he had been hurt in some vulgar tavern brawl, or drunken street fight. The idea was loathsome to him. He had not a single low taste or trait of character. "I'm afraid," said Herbert, shaking his head with mock regret, "that you are a very wild fellow." "He means that you are very fond of the wilds," interpreted Rose, hurriedly endeavouring to avert the threatened domestic storm. "Eva," she continued, taking up that irrepressible damsel before she could give utterance to the uncalled-for remark, which was but too evidently burning upon her lips, "do you know your catechism?" "Yes," replied her sister, in rather an aggrieved tone, for she did not relish this change in the conversation, "I know it--to a certain extent." "Eva looks as though she would prefer to catechise Edward," slyly interpolated her father; and under this shameless encouragement the young lady boldly observed: "Indeed, I should. I should like to begin right at the beginning with, 'Can you tell me, dear child, who made you'--have that big black bruise on your brow?" "I can," responded Edward, imperturbably. "It was a beautiful little beast, not much bigger than you are, but a great deal prettier." "Was it, really?" Any offence that might have been taken at the uncomplimentary nature of the reply was swallowed up in eager curiosity. "What was it?" "Well, that I can't tell you. I never saw anything like it before." "That's queer," said Herbert. "What colour was it?"