home. "At least you might have kicked them, quietly, under the
table," said she; "but no, you do it sideways in full view of
everyone!"

The next day the party journeyed on towards London. The sun shone
brightly and the weather, which had been so abnormally cold as to
require overcoats, or as the English term them, "top coats," grew
warmer, so that there was nothing to mar enjoyment unless it were
the lack of harmony between the two boys. This still continued. If
there were times when Edmund felt his dislike yielding ever so
slightly to Oscar's good humor and gay spirits, his pride and his
contempt for his cousin stiffened it at once.

It was two days after their arrival in a quiet town near London
where they were to stay a few days for rest at a picturesque old
inn, that Mrs. Morris received a letter from Mrs. Darrel. She read
it at the breakfast table. Before she was half down the first page
she turned to Nora: "There! Didn't I tell you one of those snakes
was gone? Listen to this: 'Poor Lady Margaret is in such distress
over losing her pet snake, the one she called Marcus Aurelius. She
thinks she didn't replace the cover of the box securely the day you
were there, for she hasn't seen it since. She fears it crawled away
and wandered into the village and was killed. Isn't she a dear old
goose?'"

"Was it the little trick-snake?" said Oscar. "What a shame!"

Edmund said nothing; he was sorry for Lady Margaret and he was
sorry for himself. The little Marcus Aurelius had made a deep
impression on him; ever since he had been meditating the bold