"Sir!" he roared out. I suppose, if I was a writer, which, thank
God, I am not--I have no need to follow a menial occupation--I would
call it "thundered." "Thundered" is a longer word than "roared," and
would, of course, help to gain the penny which a writer gets for a
line. Father got pale too, and stood quite still. Rupert looked at
him steadily for quite half a minute--it seemed longer at the time--
and suddenly smiled and said, as he sat down again:

"Sorry. But, of course, you don't understand such things." Then he
went on talking before father had time to say a word.

"Let us get back to business. As you do not seem to follow me, let
me explain that it is BECAUSE I do not forget that I wish to do this.
I remember my dear mother's wish to make Aunt Janet happy, and would
like to do as she did."

"AUNT Janet?" said father, very properly sneering at his ignorance.
"She is not your aunt. Why, even her sister, who was married to your
uncle, was only your aunt by courtesy." I could not help feeling
that Rupert meant to be rude to my father, though his words were
quite polite. If I had been as much bigger than him as he was than
me, I should have flown at him; but he was a very big boy for his
age. I am myself rather thin. Mother says thinness is an "appanage
of birth."

"My Aunt Janet, sir, is an aunt by love. Courtesy is a small word to
use in connection with such devotion as she has given to us. But I
needn't trouble you with such things, sir. I take it that my
relations on the side of my own house do not affect you. I am a Sent