One afternoon, on his return from Cherbury, Plantagenet found the fire extinguished in the little room which he had appropriated to himself, and where he kept his books. As he had expressed his wish to the servant that the fire should be kept up, he complained to him of the neglect, but was informed, in reply, that the fire had been allowed to go out by his mother’s orders, and that she desired in future that he would always read in the saloon. Plantagenet had sufficient self-control to make no observation before the servant, and soon after joined his mother, who looked very sullen, as if she were conscious that she had laid a train for an explosion.

Dinner was now served, a short and silent meal. Lord Cadurcis did not choose to speak because he felt aggrieved, and his mother because she was husbanding her energies for the contest which she believed impending. At length, when the table was cleared, and the servant departed, Cadurcis said in a quiet tone, ‘I think I shall write to my guardian tomorrow about my going to Eton.’

‘You shall do no such thing,’ said Mrs. Cadurcis, bristling up; ‘I never heard such a ridiculous idea in my life as a boy like you writing letters on such subjects to a person you have never yet seen. When I think it proper that you should go to Eton, I shall write.’

‘I wish you would think it proper now then, ma’am.’

‘I won’t be dictated to,’ said Mrs. Cadurcis, fiercely.

‘I was not dictating,’ replied her son, calmly.

‘You would if you could,’ said his mother.

‘Time enough to find fault with me when I do, ma’am.’

‘There is enough to find fault about at all times, sir.’

‘On which side, Mrs. Cadurcis?’ inquired Plantagenet, with a sneer.

‘Don’t aggravate me, Lord Cadurcis,’ said his mother.

‘How am I aggravating you, ma’am?’

‘I won’t be answered,’ said the mother.

‘I prefer silence myself,’ said the son.

‘I won’t be insulted in my own room, sir,’ said Mrs. Cadurcis.

‘I am not insulting you, Mrs. Cadurcis,’ said Plantagenet, rather fiercely; ‘and, as for your own room, I never wish to enter it. Indeed I should not be here at this moment, had you not ordered my fire to be put out, and particularly requested that I should sit in the saloon.’

‘Oh! you are a vastly obedient person, I dare say,’ replied Mrs. Cadurcis, very pettishly. ‘How long, I should like to know, have my requests received such particular attention? Pooh!’

‘Well, then, I will order my fire to be lighted again,’ said Plantagenet.

‘You shall do no such thing,’ said the mother; ‘I am mistress in this house. No one shall give orders here but me, and you may write to your guardian and tell him that, if you like.’

‘I shall certainly not write to my guardian for the first time,’ said Lord Cadurcis, ‘about any such nonsense.’

‘Nonsense, sir! Nonsense you said, did you? Your mother nonsense! This is the way to treat a parent, is it? I am nonsense, am I? I will teach you what nonsense is. Nonsense shall be very good sense; you shall find that, sir, that you shall. Nonsense, indeed! I’ll write to your guardian, that I will! You call your mother nonsense, do you? And where did you learn that, I should like to know? Nonsense, indeed! This comes of your going to Cherbury! So your mother is nonsense; a pretty lesson for Lady Annabel to teach you. Oh! I’ll speak my mind to her, that I will.’

‘What has Lady Annabel to do with it?’ inquired Cadurcis, in a loud tone.

‘Don’t threaten me, sir,’ said Mrs. Cadurcis, with violent gesture. ‘I won’t be menaced; I won’t be menaced by my son. Pretty goings on, indeed! But I will put a stop to them; will I not? that is all. Nonsense, indeed; your mother nonsense!’

‘Well, you do talk nonsense, and the greatest,’ said Plantagenet, doggedly; ‘you are talking nonsense now, you are always talking nonsense, and you never open your mouth about Lady Annabel without talking nonsense.’

‘If I was not very ill I would give it you,’ said his mother, grinding her teeth. ‘O you brat! You wicked brat, you! Is this the way to address me? I have half a mind to shake your viciousness out of you, that I have!

You are worse than your father, that you are!’ and here she wept with rage.

‘I dare say my father was not so bad, after all!’ said Cadurcis.

‘What should you know about your father, sir?’ said Mrs. Cadurcis. ‘How dare you speak about your father!’

‘Who should speak about a father but a son?’

‘Hold your impudence, sir!’

‘I am not impudent, ma’am.’

‘You aggravating brat!’ exclaimed the enraged woman, ‘I wish I had something to throw at you!’

‘Did you throw things at my father?’ asked his lordship.

Mrs. Cadurcis went into an hysterical rage; then, suddenly jumping up, she rushed at her son. Lord Cadurcis took up a position behind the table, but the sportive and mocking air which he g............