"That is a nice man, our stepfather," Ned said in a cold fury. "His ways get more and more pleasant every day; such an amiable, popular man, so smiling and pleasant!"

"Oh! it's no use saying anything," Charlie said in an imploring voice, "it only makes things worse."

"Worse!" Ned exclaimed indignantly; "how could they be worse? Well may they call him Foxey, for foxey he is, a double faced snarling brute."

As the last word issued from Ned's lips he reeled under a tremendous box on the ear from behind. Mr. Mulready was passing through the hall--for his gig was waiting at the door to take him back to the mill, where some fitters would be at work till late, repairing the damages to the machine--when he had caught Ned's words, which were spoken at the top of his voice.

The smoldering anger of months burst at once into a flame heightened by the ill humor which the day's events had caused, and he burst into the room and almost felled Ned to the ground with his swinging blow. Recovering himself, Ned flew at him, but the boy was no match for the man, and Mr. Mulready's passion was as fierce as his own; seizing his throat with his left hand and forcing him back into a corner of the room, his stepfather struck him again and again with all his force with his right.