"Oh!"

It was all that Mrs. Royal could say. She had become suddenly aroused,
feeling sure that something of a serious nature had happened that day.

"Why did he call you a pauper, dear?" she at length asked as calmly as
possible.

"'Cause I told him I didn't scare his horses, and make them jump. He
got mad, and said I was a pauper, and should be in the Poor House
instead of living with decent people. And he said that I didn't know
who my father and mother are, and that I would be ashamed of them if I
did, that's what he said."

Into Mrs. Royal's eyes came an expression of deep concern, mingled with
indignation.

"You poor boy," she soothed, taking his little left hand in hers. "You
have had great troubles to-day, have you not?"

"But am I a pauper, grandma?" the boy insisted.

"No, you certainly are not, dear."

"And I shouldn't be in the Poor House?"

"No, no. You are just where you should be, with grandad and me."

"And my father and mother are not bad, and I wouldn't be ashamed of