what I liked with it. I hate girls!" he
said, turning to the company generally.
"They are fit for nothing, but eating bread
and butter. They've nothing manly about
them. They're always changing their minds."

"For shame, Neville!" said Philip.
"Remember where you are. Give the Punch
back to Olive at once, or I shall tell papa as
soon as he comes."

"Tell-tale!" hissed Neville, turning like
lightning on Philip. "You dare not come
and take it! None of you dare! You are
all cowards! You can do nothing but carry
tales! I hate girls! I hate you all! I don't
care for—"

"Neville! " said a grave voice behind him
—my father's. Poor Neville dropped down
at once from the height of his passion—
wavered, and turned pale. "Yes, sir," he
muttered with downcast eyes.

"I am surprised that any son of mine
should behave in such a manner. Take
your hat, sir, and begone this moment.
You and I will settle this matter between
us, afterwards."

Neville took his hat without a word,
flashed up one black look at his father, walked
slowly down-stairs, closed the door after him
with a bang that echoed through the house,
and was gone.

"I'm glad he's gone," said Olive; " aren't
you, Philip? He is such a rude boy."

The excitement caused by this scene was
quickly over, and the afternoon sped away
in the midst of games and amusements of
various kinds. Tea-time, much desired
season, with its numerous good things, came
and went; and we were just organising a
game at blind-man's buff, in which both
young and old were to join—always
excepting Mrs. Graile, who looked with no
favourable eyes on such amusements, but
had been won over as a spectator by Olive's
importunity—when a messenger, pale and
breathless, rushed into the room, and
beckoned my father on one side. To them
were quickly joined my mother and Doctor
Graile; and a whisper passed round the
room that some terrible accident had
happened to my brother Neville. My father
and Doctor Graile were out of the house
in a moment, and my mother quickly
followed. The proposed game was given
up, and we children crowded into a corner,
whispering, and asking one another for
particulars. Philip and Ruth were too
impatient to stay any longer; so Helen and
I got ready to accompany them home, and
we departed together, after a frigid farewell
from Mrs. Graile, who was still residing
among the glaciers. It was quite dark by
the time we reached home; but there were
lights flashing up and down, from room to
room, portending something unusual. We
made our way at once into the kitchen, and
crowding round old Betty, the housekeeper,
besought her to tell us what had occurred.

"Hush, my honies!" said the old woman,
with a shaking voice. "You mustn't make
the least bit of noise, for Master Neville's
lying up-stairs insensible, with his leg broken,
and a great hole in his head."

"But how did it happen, Betty? That's
what we want to know."

"I don't rightly know how it was," said
the old woman. "But from what I've heard,.
Master Neville parted from his father in a
bit of a passion, and went and climbed up-
some big tree or other to have a swing in the
branches, as you know he often does when
he's put out; and either climbing too high, or
trusting to a rotten branch, he fell down, and
cut his head open, and broke his leg, and was
found without sense or feeling; and so you're
all to go to bed, my dears, for he's very bad,
and Doctor Graile says the house must be
kept quiet."

We went up-stairs quietly and sadly without
another word. Philip and I lay awake
for a long time, talking the matter over in
our boyish way; and when Doctor Graile
quitted the room, we were lying in wait for
him on the landing, and quite startled the
little man by appearing suddenly before him
in our night-dresses.

"Bless my heart!" exclaimed the doctor.
"What are you young rascals doing out of
bed at this time of the night? Neville? Why
he's very poorly, indeed, at present; but I
hope that with care we shall soon set him on
his legs again. But you must keep quiet,
very quiet, all of you, and be careful not to
disturb him. Here's a ginger lozenge a-piece
to warm your mouths with: and now be
off to bed with you, or I shall have to
warm you with my cane." And laughing
softly, and nodding a pleasant good-night,
the little doctor disappeared down-stairs; the
invisible hand clutching at his collar behind,
as he went.

Many weary weeks elapsed before Neville
could be pronounced convalescent, or even
out of danger. I am afraid to think that at
that time my father sometimes reproached
himself with having been too severe with
Neville; and deemed himself, in some
measure, the cause of the accident: I judged so,
at least, from his sad, drooping manner, and
from certain words which he let fall on one
or two occasions. If such were the case,
how must his bitterness have been increased
when, as Neville grew slowly better in body,
his mind became gradually weaker; till at
last my brother emerged from his sickness, as
strong and handsome, in his boyish way, as
before, but with a vacant eye, a wandering
reason, and a powerless memory. Gradually
he became the prey of a dull, brooding
melancholy: looking on all who were nearest
and dearest to him with distrustful but
indifferent eyes, and falling into the most
fearful fits of passion, if, by accident, any of his
little whims were slighted. I think Doctor