Mrs. Larne laughed.
"What am I to do with him?"
A loud shriek prevented a response. Phyllis, who had taken her brother
by the ear to lead him to the door, let him go to clasp her injured
self.
Bob Pillin went hastening towards her; and following the young man with
her chin, Mrs. Larne said, smiling:
"Aren't those children awful? He's such a nice fellow. We like him so
much, Guardy."
The old man grinned. So she was making up to that young pup! Rosamund
Larne, watching him, murmured:
"Oh! Guardy, you're as bad as Jock. He takes after you terribly. Look
at the shape of his head. Jock, come here!" The innocent boy approached;
with his girlish complexion, his flowery blue eyes, his perfect mouth,
he stood before his mother like a large cherub. And suddenly he blew his
ocarina in a dreadful manner. Mrs. Larne launched a box at his ears, and
receiving the wind of it he fell prone.
"That's the way he behaves. Be off with you, you awful boy. I want to
talk to Guardy."
The boy withdrew on his stomach, and sat against the wall cross-legged,
fixing his innocent round eyes on old Heythorp. Mrs. Larne sighed.
"Things are worse and worse, Guardy.
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