Clovis as being unnecessarily tactless.

"Give him a ride on the roly-poly," suggested the father
brilliantly, as the howls continued with no sign of early
abatement. In a moment the child had been placed astride the big
garden roller and a preliminary tug was given to set it in motion.
From the hollow depths of the cylinder came an earsplitting roar,
drowning even the vocal efforts of the squalling baby, and
immediately afterwards there crept forth a white-pinafored infant
with a mop of tow-coloured hair tied over one temple with a pale
blue ribbon. There was no mistaking either the features or the
lung-power of the new arrival.

"Our own little Erik," screamed Mrs. Momeby, pouncing on him and
nearly smothering him with kisses; "did he hide in the roly-poly
to give us all a big fright?"

This was the obvious explanation of the child's sudden
disappearance and equally abrupt discovery. There remained,
however, the problem of the interloping baby, which now sat
whimpering on the lawn in a disfavour as chilling as its previous
popularity had been unwelcome. The Momebys glared at it as though
it had wormed its way into their short-lived affections by
heartless and unworthy pretences. Miss Gilpet's face took on an
ashen tinge as she stared helplessly at the bunched-up figure that
had been such a gladsome sight to her eyes a few moments ago.

"When love is over, how little of love even the lover
understands," quoted Clovis to himself.