"Oh! there's nothing the matter," Ned replied cheerfully; "but I
had a fight with a boy on the moor."

"It is dreadful!--quite dreadful!" Mrs. Sankey said; "your going
on like this. It makes me feel quite faint and ill to look at you.
I wonder you don't get killed with your violent ways."

Ned made no reply but took his seat at the table, and fell to work
upon the hunches of thick brown bread and butter.

"I will tell you about it afterward, father," he said; "it really
wasn't my fault."

"I am sure I don't wish to hear the story of your quarrels and
fighting, Edward," Mrs. Sankey said; "the sight of you is quite
enough to upset my nerves and make me wretched. Of course if your
father chooses to support you in such goings on I can say nothing.
Neither he nor you seem to remember how trying such things as these
are to any one with a broken constitution like mine."

Captain Sankey, knowing from experience how useless it was to attempt
to argue with his wife when she was in this mood, continued to eat
his meal placidly. Ned seized his mug of milk and water, and took
an impatient drink of it.

"Is there anything I had better do for my face?" he asked his father
presently.

"I don't think anything you can do, Ned, will make you presentable