name of Malcolm.

Two years later there came a daughter.

The tenants gave her a silver plate; Lord Durwent gave them a garden
fête; and he and his wife gave the girl the name of Elise.

Three years later a second son appeared.

There was a presentation, followed by a garden fête and a christening.
The name was Richard.

In course of time the elder son grew to that mental stature when the
English parent feels the time is ripe to send him away to school. The
ironmonger's daughter had the idea that Malcolm, being her son, was
hers to mould.

'My dear,' said Lord Durwent, exerting his authority almost for the
first time, 'the boy is eight years of age, and no time must be lost in
preparing him for Eton and inculcating into him those qualities which
mark'----

'But,' cried his wife with theatrical unrestraint, 'why send him to
Eton? Why not wait until you see what he wants to be in the world?'

Lord Durwent's face bore a look of unperturbed calm. 'When he is old
enough, he must go to Eton, my dear, and acquire the qualities which
will enable him to take over Roselawn at my death'----

At this point Lady Durwent interrupted him with a tirade which, in