"But she _couldn't_ be frightened at four months," vacantly interrupted
Susan Hetth, who could not see the trend of the conversation, or the
need of the detailed interrogation. "She would be _far_ too young!"

"Too _young_!" snapped Sir Jonathan. "Rubbish! Do you know why you
are afraid to-day of falling from a height?"

"No," replied Susan Hetth, cordially loathing the man, his methods, and
his manners.

"Because," he answered roughly, "you were frightened of falling from
your mother's or your nurse's arms when you were a few months old, and
the impression of height and fear made upon your baby mind is still
with you, _that's_ why!"

"The brute!" she thought, as she smiled the propitiatory smile of one
who is afraid and murmured, "How very interesting!"

"Is there anything else you can tell me about your little niece? no
matter how trivial a detail! Has she ever screamed for hours as she
screamed this morning? Does she get angry? I mean mad angry!"

"No!" replied the aunt. "From what her nurse and daily governess tell
me she seems to be _remarkably_ sweet-tempered. You see I don't--I
haven't--I don't see much of her. I'm--I've--you see I have _so_ many
friends over here!"

The man snorted.