"No! No! No! No!" screamed Pheasant.
Nicholas heaved himself about in his chair, and said:
"He deserved it. He threw the bird on the floor."
"Pick poor Boney up, Wakefield dear," said Ernest. "Pick him up and stroke him."
Except his mistress, Boney would allow no one but Wakefield to touch him. The child picked him up, stroked him, and set him on his grandmother's shoulder. Grandmother, in one of her gusts of affection, caught him to her and pressed a kiss on his mouth. "Little darling," she exclaimed. "Gran's darling! Give him a piece of cake, Meg."
Meg was crying softly behind the teapot. Wakefield went to her, and, receiving no notice, took the largest piece of cake and began to devour it.
Renny had crossed to Piers's side and was staring at his head.
"His ear is bleeding," he remarked. "You shouldn't have done that, Granny."
"He was impudent to her," said Ernest.
Eden cut in: "Oh, rot! She was abusing him and the girl horribly."
Grandmother thumped the floor with her stick.
"I wasn't abusing him. I told him I wouldn't have that girl in the house. I told him she was a bastard brat, and so she is. I told him—bring me more tea—more tea—where's Philip? Philip, I want tea!" When greatly excited she often addressed her eldest son by his father's name.
"For God's sake, give her some tea," growled Nicholas. "Make it hot."
Ernest carried a cup of tea to her, and straightened her cap.
"More cake," she demanded. "Stop your sniveling, Meggie."
