'There's a regular brick for you!' cried Charles, delighted.

'His heart was set on training these birds. He turned the library
upside down in search of books on falconry, and spent every spare
moment on them. At last, a servant left some door open, and they
escaped. I shall never forget Guy's passion; I am sure I don't
exaggerate when I say he was perfectly beside himself with anger.'

'Poor boy!' said Mrs. Edmonstone.

'Served the rascal right,' said Charles.

'Nothing had any effect on him till his grandfather came out, and, at
the sight of him, he was tamed in an instant, hung his head, came up to
his grandfather, and said--"I am very sorry," Sir Guy answered, "My
poor boy!" and there was not another word. I saw Guy no more that day,
and all the next he was quiet and subdued. But the most remarkable
part of the story is to come. A couple of days afterwards we were
walking in the woods, when, at the sound of Guy's whistle, we heard a
flapping and rustling, and beheld, tumbling along, with their clipped
wings, these two identical hawks, very glad to be caught. They drew
themselves up proudly for him to stroke them, and their yellow eyes
looked at him with positive affection.'

'Pretty creatures!' said Amabel. 'That is a very nice end to the
story.'

'It is not the end,' said Philip. 'I was surprised to see Guy so
sober, instead of going into one of his usual raptures. He took them