"But, father--" began the boy.

"Yes, sir, it goes back, I tell you," repeated his father, now well
wrought up to a passion. "What right has he to send such a piece of
foolishness to my Polly Pepper? I can give her all the watches she
needs. And this trumpery," pointing to the jewelled gift still lying in
Jasper's hand, "is utterly unfit for a schoolgirl. You know that
yourself, Jasper."

"But Polly was kind to him," began Jasper, again.

"Kind to him!" snorted his father, "don't I know that? Of course she
was. Polly Pepper would be kind to any one. But that's no reason why
the old idiot should presume to give her such a silly and expensive
present as that. The man doesn't know anything who would do such a
thing. And this one is queerer than the average."

"As you say, he is eccentric," observed Jasper, seeing here a loophole
by which to get in a soothing word.

"Eccentric? That's a mild way to put it," fumed his father. "He's odder
than Dick's hatband. Heaven save Old England if many of her earls are
like him. Well, I shall just write the fellow a decent sort of a note,
and then I'll pack the box off to him, and that'll be the end of the
matter."

"I'm afraid Polly will be sorry," said Jasper, feeling at a standstill
so far as finding the right word was concerned, for everything he
uttered only seemed to make matters worse. So he said the best thing he