chap7_div
chap_8
F
orsome time after this there was a marked improvement in little Bunny's behaviour, and everyone in the house was delighted with the change, and rejoiced over it in a very open manner.
"It is perfectly wonderful!" said Mrs. Dashwood; "our little troublesome is becoming quite a well-behaved young person. I feel very grateful to you, Miss Kerr, for I believe it is all owing to your tender care and kind good-nature that the child is improving so much."
"I don't think I have so much to do with the change as little Mervyn," answered Miss Kerr with a smile. "I have lectured poor Bunny very often, it is true, but I think agood obedient little friend does a child more real good than all the scoldings and lectures in the world."
"Yes, I daresay it is an excellent thing," replied Mrs. Dashwood; "but still I think your lectures and sermons have improved my poor darling a great deal. She was very ignorant when you came to look after her."
"Yes, she was," said Miss Kerr; "she did not know much, poor child, and what was worse, did not care to learn anything. But lately she has begun to get on very nicely. And there, again, you see it is Mervyn who has done her good, for her whole ambition is to do everything better than he does it."
"The little rogue!" exclaimed Mrs. Dashwood laughing. "Well, it is a good thing to have found a way to make her work. Where is she now, I wonder?"
"Mr. Dashwood took her off with him to the stables. Mervyn went too, as it seems there is a pleasant surprise awaiting them there. They both went off laden with bread for Frisk."
"I think I can guess what the surprise is," said Mrs. Dashwood with a smile; "I—"
"Oh, mama, mama! we are glad! we are glad!" cried Bunny bursting suddenly into the room, followed by Mervyn with a radiant look of happiness on his little white face. "What do you think? Guess what has happened. Just guess what papa has given Mervyn."
"Dear aunt, it was so kind of uncle to buy me such a—"
"Let her guess—let her guess, Mervyn. Don't tell her what he bought you. Miss Kerr, what did papa buy for him? Something living, something with a tail, something with a nose, a dear velvety nose and a soft silky coat," cried Bunny, as she danced up and down the drawing-room in high glee.
"A kitten," said Miss Kerr gravely.
"A kitten! oh, the idea!" exclaimed Bunny, "as if people bought kittens."
"Something far nicer!" said Mervyn in a voice full of pleasure. "I'll tell her, Bunny, something to ride—"
"No, no, don't tell, don't tell!" cried the little girl, laying her hand quickly over his mouth. "Mama, guess, guess."
"A pony, Bun, a little brown pony," said Mrs. Dashwood, smiling brightly upon the eager excited children.
"You dear clever mamey, that's just what it is," exclaimed Bunny, giving her mother an affectionate hug. "And Mervyn's so pleased, and I am so glad, and oh, it will be so nice going out to ride together!" and jumping up sideways on the arm of the sofa the little girl began to work herself about as if she were really on Frisk's back and trotting along a country road.
"My dear Bunny, please don't," cried Mrs. Dashwood, as she felt the sofa upon which she was lying, shaken up and down by the child's vigorous antics. "Please don't, dear, you hurt me very much."
"Oh, I am so sorry!" cried Bunny bounding quickly down from her perch, and holding her face up for a pardoning kiss. "But won't it be nice, mama? Frisk is so glad to have a friend in the stable with him, and it will be fun for me to have Mervyn to ride with."
"Yes, it will be very nice, dear. But, Bunny, you talk so much that Mervyn nevergets saying a word. Tell me, my dear, do you really like your pony?"
"Oh, yes, aunt, I am delighted with him, he is so pretty. It was very good of uncle to buy him for me."
"And you will not be afraid to ride him, I hope," she said with a smile.
"No, I think not, at least not if we go along quietly. But Bunny says she will make Frisk go awfully fast, and then my pony will run after him, and that she is sure I shall be frightened and hold on by the mane and—"
"Bunny, Bunny, you must not say such naughty things," cried Mrs. Dashwood shaking her finger at the mischievous child. "But don't mind her, Mervyn. She does not ride at all so splendidly herself. The groom or her papa always holds Frisk by a leading rein, so it would be quite impossible for her to go on as fast as she likes; so do not mind her."
"Oh, I don't feel a bit afraid if some one holds my pony by a rein," said Mervyn bravely; "not one bit; I think it will be lovely riding along together."
"That is right," said Mrs. Dashwood. "I am sure you will be a clever horseman, for your papa was when he was a boy."
"And so he is now, aunt. He has a beautiful horse, and he looks splendid on it when he goes off to ride," cried Mervyn, smiling brightly at the recollection; "I used to think he looked grander than any of the other officers."
"Poor little man," said his aunt gently, as she smoothed back the hair from his brow. "You are very fond of your papa, Mervyn, and do you know, I think you will be like him when you grow big and strong."
"I want to be like him in every way," said Mervyn, "and I mean to be an officer when I grow up."
"And go away to that nasty, hot India," cried Bunny; "oh, I'd be so lonely if you went away again—please don't, Mervyn, please don't."
"What is Mervyn not to do, my little woman?" asked Mr. Dashwood, who entered the room at this moment.
"He's not to go back to India again, because I should be so lonely without him,"cried Bunny catching hold of her papa's hand and laying her little cheek against it; "you won't let him go, papa, will you, dear?"
"No, indeed, I couldn't think of such a thing. But I am sure he won't want to go when he hears that his papa is coming home for Christmas; eh, my boy?"
"That is good news, uncle," cried Mervyn joyfully; "I never thought he would come so soon. Not much fear of my wanting to go to India when he comes home."
"So I thought," said Mr. Dashwood. "And now, children, when are we to have our first ride?"
"Now, now; to-day, to-day," cried Bunny; "dear papa, let us go off at once!"
"Very well, my dear. I thought you would like to go soon, so I told John to get the ponies and horses ready in half an hour. You had better run and get on your habit—that is, if Miss Kerr will let you both off with your afternoon lessons. What do you think, Miss Kerr, do they deserve a ride?"
"Yes, I think they do, for they have both been very good," answered the governess with a smile; "besides, I really don't think theylook studiously inclined—they are very much excited."
"I couldn't learn a lesson if I tried ever so," cried Bunny, "I really couldn't, so I am glad you are going to let us off. Good-bye, Miss Kerr; good-bye, mama I sha'n't be long, papa, dear;" and away she flew in breathless haste to the nursery.
Sophie had received a message informing her that her young lady was going out for a ride, and when Bunny went up to be dressed she found her pretty brown habit and neat felt hat laid all ready for her on the bed.
"That is a dear good Sophie," she cried, and she was in such good humour that she allowed the maid to brush her hair and put on her habit without uttering a single cross word or complaint.
"Thank you very much, that will do nicely," she said politely, as Sophie put the last finishing touch to her curls; then taking her little whip with the pretty silver top from the maid's hand, she gathered up her skirts and ran quickly down to the hall-door.
"What a pleasure it is to dress her when she is so good and polite as that!" said Sophieto herself as she watched the little figure running away from her down the passage. "What a pity it is that children are so often naughty and troublesome!"
When Bunny arrived in the hall she found her papa and Mervyn quite ready to start for their ride.
"Oh, how nice Brownie looks!" cried the little girl in delight, as her cousin was lifted on to his new pony; "but I don't think he is as handsome as you, old Frisk. Is he, papa?"
"I don't know, I am sure, dear," answered her papa, laughing; "but I suppose you like Frisk best because he is your own."
"Yes, I suppose I do," said Bunny, and placing her little foot on her papa's hand she sprang nimbly to her saddle. "Good-bye, Miss Kerr, good-bye."
Mr. Dashwood mounted his horse, the groom jumped on his, and the whole party rode gaily up the avenue and out of the gate.
"I declare Mervyn sits very well, papa," said Bunny in a patronizing manner, as she looked back at her cousin, who was following them with the servant.
"Yes, of course he sits well; why shouldn't he?" asked Mr. Dashwood; "he wants a few lessons and then he will ride very well, I am sure."
"Yes, I daresay," said Bunny; "but he never rode before, you know, except just little short rides on Frisk, and he'd be awfully afraid to go without the leading rein, I know."
"Yes, and quite right too," said her father; "it's only children who ride very well who should be allowed to go without a leading rein, and especially on a country road. Supposing the pony took it into his head to bolt—what do you think would happen then?"
"Oh, he could be pulled up quite tight by his rein. I wouldn't be a bit afraid to ride all by myself."
"Wouldn't you, indeed, Miss Vanity. Well, I would rather not trust you," said Mr. Dashwood laughing; "I think it is very likely you would find Master Frisk rather too much for you without a leading rein, my dear child."
"No, I shouldn't," answered Bunny, bending over her pony and patting his neck; "Friskand I are such friends he would be sure to do what I told him. Wouldn't you, Friskie?"
"Don't trust him or your own power too much, Miss Bunny," replied her father with a smile. "But who is that coming down the road towards us? I think I ought to know him."
"Why, papa, it's Mr. Davis, that nice old gentleman who gave me the box of sweets; don't you remember? I'm sure it is."
"Yes, so it is," said Mr. Dashwood; "what sharp eyes you have, little woman! You and Mervyn had better ride on with John, as I want to say a word to Mr. Davis."
"Very well, papa, but don't be long, pray," said the little girl; "it's so much nicer talking to you than to John."
"No, I sha'n't be very long, dear. Good morning, Mr. Davis," said Mr. Dashwood to a tall fine-looking old gentleman who at this moment rode up to them on a beautiful chestnut horse; "I am very glad to see you. This little girl of mine knew you a long way off."
"Ha! Miss Bunny and I are great friends," answered Mr. Davis with a smile, as he bent forward to shake her warmly by the hand.
"Those pretty eyes of yours are a deal sharper than mine, my dear, for I had not the faintest idea who it was that was coming along the road. But I am glad I met you, Dashwood, as I want to say a few words to you about—" and he lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Very well," said Mr. Dashwood; "I'll send these little people on with the groom, and ride down the road a short way with you. John," he called to the servant, "take Miss Bunny's rein and go on up the hill with the children, turn in at Lady Edith's Drive, and I will overtake you in a few minutes."
"Yes, sir," said the groom, touching his hat respectfully, and riding forward he took the rein from his master's hand.
"Ride quietly along and I will be back to you very soon, Bunny," said Mr. Dashwood, and then he turned his horse round and walked it leisurely down the road again with Mr. Davis.
"Oh, what a pretty place!" cried Mervyn, as the riding party trotted along through a gate and into a cool shady avenue, with tall stately trees growing closely together on every side.
"This is Lady Edith's Drive," said Bunny; "I think it is the prettiest place about Scarborough. It is so cool and pleasant, and then it is so quiet."
"Why is it called Lady Edith's Drive?" asked Mervyn.
"I don't know," answered Bunny. "Do you, John?"
"Well, no, Miss," said John; "I can't exactly say as I do. I suppose some Lady Edith used to drive here very often."
"I suppose so, indeed," said Bunny, laughing merrily at this explanation.
"I don't think that tells us much, John," said Mervyn; "anyone might know that."
"Yes, sir, very likely, sir," replied the groom; "but I never asks no questions. If I'm told a place is called by a name, I never asks why or wherefore, but just takes it as the name that it's to be called by."
"Well, I think you are very foolish then," said Mervyn; "I like asking questions, and it's a very good way to learn about things, I can tell you."
"I daresay it is, sir, for a young gentleman like you, sir. But you see the people aboutme don't know no more nor I do, so what's the use of asking them what's this an' what's that, an' showin' them I don't know nothin' myself."
"I never thought of that," said Mervyn, "but I don't think it matters about showing that you don't know. Miss Kerr says no one should be ashamed to ask a question about a thing they don't understand."
"John, John," cried Bunny suddenly as she pulled very hard at the leading rein in order to attract the groom's attention, "I want to ask you something. Stoop down that I may whisper it into your ear."
The man did as she requested; but when he had heard what she wanted him to do he shook his head in a very determined manner, saying, "I couldn't on no account, Miss. Your pa would be as angry as anything."
"No, he wouldn't, John. I told him I could manage Frisk myself, and he only laughed. Do let me—just for a few minutes. I'll go along quite quietly, you'll see I will. I want to show Mervyn that I can ride better than he does, and that I am not afraid to go without a leading rein."
"Well, it's very quiet here, so I suppose itcould not be much harm," said the man, yielding a little at her pleading voice; "I really don't think it could be any harm;" and he turned in his saddle and looked carefully up and down the drive.
"Harm!" exclaimed Bunny, "of course it could do no harm. Oh! pray take off the rein, John," and she looked up into his face in a most imploring manner.
"Well, you are a funny little lady, to be sure," he answered with a good-natured laugh, and, bending forward, he unfastened the leading rein and put it into his pocket.
"Thank you, John," said the child, sitting up proudly on her pony. "It feels ever so much nicer without it; it's so silly to be always led along by a rein like a baby. Mervyn, I am riding all by myself. Wouldn't you like to ride without a leading rein?" she shouted across at her cousin, who was trotting along quietly at the other side of the groom; "it's twice as nice to feel that you can go just as you like."
"I feel just as nice as I am, Bunny, thank you," said Mervyn; "I would rather have the rein, thank you."
"I can't hear what you say, so I think I'll go round beside you, Mervyn," she cried gaily; and, raising her whip, she brought it down heavily upon poor Frisk's back, and tried to make him go round beside Brownie. But Frisk was not accustomed to such treatment, and tossed his head and whisked up his tail, but absolutely refused to go to the other side of John's horse, no matter what she did to him.
"You naughty pony," she cried, "you must do what I tell you," and she tugged violently at his mouth, and gave him another sharp blow with her whip. This was more than the pony could bear; and before his little mistress knew where she was, he pricked up his ears, and with an angry toss of his head galloped away down the road as fast as he could.
"Stop, Miss Bunny, for goodness sake stop," shouted the groom; "you must not go so fast; come back here at once."
ilus114
"I can't stop—I can't!" shrieked the little girl in a voice of terror. "Oh! he's running away—he's running away;" and, completely overcome with fright, poor Bunny droppedher reins, and, catching hold of the pony's mane, held on to him with all her strength.
"What a fool I was to let her go!" cried the groom; "what on earth will my master say to me? Goodness, the silly child has let go her reins; she'll be off—she'll be off;" and, spurring up his horse, he rode after the runaway, hoping to overtake him and put a stop to his mad race.
But the noise of the horses as they clattered down the road after him seemed only to excite Master Frisk, and on he went faster than ever.
As the pony reached the end of the drive, and poor little Bunny had become so weak and faint from terror that she was in great danger of being thrown to the ground, a young lad of about sixteen jumped up from the grass where he had been seated, and, dashing forward, seized Frisk by the head and brought him to a sudden stand-still.
"Poor little girl," said the boy kindly, as he lifted Bunny from her saddle and laid her gently on the grass. "What a fright you have had! How did this beggar come to run away? He looks quiet enough."
"I whipped him," answered Bunny in a shaky voice; "and oh! I thought I was going to fall," and she put her hand to her head as if she still felt giddy.
"You were certainly very nearly off," said the boy; "but what a fool that groom of yours was to let a kid like you ride without a leading rein; he shouldn't have done such a thing."
"Oh! but I begged him so hard that he let me go," said Bunny; "he didn't want to let me, and—"
"Miss Bunny, I'm ashamed of you," cried John, riding up beside her. "You promised you'd ride quite quiet beside me, and you broke your word. I'm very thankful to you, sir, I'm sure," he continued, turning to the young stranger. "In another minute this little lady might have been thrown on her head and been killed on the spot."
"Oh, dear! oh, dear! it wasn't my fault," cried Bunny, bursting into tears; "I only mean't to go round beside Mervyn, and Frisk ran away and—"
"Don't cry, dear," said the strange lad kindly; "you must not say another word toher, my man," he continued, turning to the groom; "she is rather shaken with her fright, and it's best to leave her alone. Take hold of this pony and I will go and get your young lady some fresh water; that will do her good."
"Very well, sir," said John, pulling the leading rein once more from his pocket, and fastening it on to Frisk's bridle with an angry jerk. "It's not my place to scold, Miss Bunny, but a young lady should keep her word, and not get a servant into trouble."
"But I didn't mean to break my word, John, indeed I didn't," sobbed Bunny. "Oh! why did papa leave us? oh, dear! oh, dear!"
"Drink this, you poor little mite," said her new friend as he held a flask full of fresh water to her lips. "It will do you ever so much good. I will bathe your face for you, and then you will see how comfortable you will feel, but you must not cry any more."
"Thank you so much," said Bunny, drinking off the water; "it is very cool and nice."
"Yes," the boy answered, "it is very refreshing, but this will do you more good, I am sure;" and, removing her hat, he took aneatly-folded, perfectly clean handkerchief from his pocket, shook it out, and, dipping it into the water, bathed the child's face as tenderly as a girl might have done.
"You are very kind," said Bunny, as she raised her big blue eyes to his face; "you are a nice good boy," and she raised her face to give him a kiss.
"That's right," he said smiling; "you are beginning to look more cheerful," and, stooping, he kissed her gently on the forehead.
At this moment the sound of horses' feet was heard coming along the road, and Mr. Dashwood soon appeared, riding quickly towards them.
"What is the matter?" he cried in alarm, as, drawing up sharply, he sprang from his horse and rushed to his little girl's side.
"Oh! papa, papa!" cried the child, running into her father's arms, "your poor Bunny was nearly killed, only this nice boy stopped Frisk and took me off his back."
"My poor darling!" cried Mr. Dashwood, lifting her gently from the ground, and smoothing back her ruffled hair, "I am very thankful to God that you are not hurt.Thank you, too, my lad, for your kind and ready assistance," he said to the young stranger, grasping him warmly by the hand, "and now tell me, sir," he cried with a stern look, as he turned to the groom, "how it is that the child whom I left in your care came to be in such danger."
"If you please, sir, Miss Bunny asked—" began John very nervously.
"Yes, papa, I—it was all my fault," interrupted the little girl; "don't scold John. I wanted to show Mervyn that I could ride better than he does, and as I could not do so properly with John holding me by the rein, I begged him to let me go, and I promised to ride quietly; but I whipped Frisk, and he ran off so fast that I got frightened, and—"
"It was very wrong of you, John, to allow the child to ride without a rein, and I am really angry and vexed that you should not have taken more care of her when she was left in your charge."
"Indeed, sir, I am very sorry, and it shall never happen again," said John.
"I hope not," said Mr. Dashwood; "and as for you, Bunny, I am very much surprisedthat you should have been so naughty. You know I told you you could not manage Frisk without a leading rein."
"Yes, I know you did, dear papa," said Bunny, as she rubbed her little face up and down against her father's cheek, "but don't scold us any more. We are all very sorry, aren't we, John?"
"Very, Miss," answered the groom; "I'd rather have died than let any harm come to you, an' I hope master will forgive me for lettin' you have your own way about the rein."
"I forgive you this time, John," said Mr. Dashwood; "but remember for the future you are to keep Miss Bunny well to your side when you take her out to ride on her pony."
"Yes, sir, surely I will," answered the man earnestly; "I will never do what Miss Bunny asks me to do again, never while I live."
"And now, my dear fellow," said Mr. Dashwood, turning to the young stranger and shaking him once more by the hand, "I cannot tell you how grateful I feel to you. May I be permitted to ask your name?"
"My name is Francis Collins; but indeed I did not do much," the boy answered modestly.
"You have done me a very great service, Master Francis, and one that I can never repay you," said Mr. Dashwood earnestly. "Do you live anywhere about here?"
"No, sir; I live in London," replied the lad; "my father is in India with his regiment, and I am staying up here for a time with my aunt."
"Is your father a captain? and is he in India now?" asked Mervyn shyly.
"Yes, little man," answered young Collins with a smile, "he is a captain in the 45th, and is now stationed at Jublepoore."
"Why, Captain Collins is papa's great friend, and of course he was my friend too; and Mrs. Collins was so good and kind to me. Oh, I did love her so much!" cried Mervyn, looking up into the lad's face. "Are you the Frank she used to talk to me about?"
"Yes, I am the Frank, her only child," said the boy sadly; "poor mother! it's a whole year and a half since I saw her last;" and tears came into his eyes as he spoke.
"I have often heard my brother-in-law speak of your father, my dear boy, and I am very glad to have made your acquaintance," said Mr. Dashwood as he seated his little daughter upon her pony. "Where are you staying?"
"I am living with my aunt at a quiet hotel on the West Cliff."
"I am very glad to hear it," said Mr. Dashwood, "for you will be able to come over and see us. Our name is Dashwood, and we are staying at Holly Lodge, a house standing in its own grounds and facing the sea, yonder on the South Cliff. Anyone will point it out to you; so be sure and pay us a visit some day soon."
"Yes, thank you, I certainly will," the boy replied with a bright smile; "I must have a talk with this little chap, Mr. Dashwood, and find out all I can about my father and mother from him. By the by I suppose you are the Mervyn Hastings she told me she missed so much."
"Yes, I am Mervyn Hastings; and oh, did she miss me?" cried the little fellow eagerly.
"Most dreadfully! And I don't wonder,for you seem to be a capital little fellow," said Frank Collins, patting Mervyn on the shoulder.
"Come over and lunch at the children's dinner to-morrow at two o'clock, and then you and Mervyn can have a long talk together," said Mr. Dashwood as he sprang to his horse. "It is rather late now, so these youngsters must get home as quickly as they can. Remember we shall all be delighted to see you, if you can spare time for visiting."
"Oh, do come, do come," said Mervyn, earnestly.
"Mama will be so glad to see you," cried Bunny, "so do come, please."
"Thank you all very much," answered the lad brightly; "I will be sure to be at Holly Lodge by two o'clock. Good-bye, Mr. Dashwood; good-bye, Miss Bunny; good-bye, little Mervyn;" and Frank lifted his hat politely as the riding party turned and rode away from him down the drive towards Scarborough.
chap8_div
chap_9
T
henext morning was very wet, and as it was quite impossible for the children to go out, Miss Kerr insisted on their going into the library to learn their lessons.
Bunny pouted and declared that her papa did not wish them to sit still all day over their books, and that it would be much nicer to run about the house and play at "Hide and seek."
"Yes, it would be pleasanter for you, Bunny," said Miss Kerr, "but you forget that 'Hide and seek' is a very noisy game, and that your mama's head is aching so much that she could not bear the noise you wouldbe sure to make. Come now, be good children, and try to learn your lessons as well as you possibly can."
"I hate lessons! and so does Mervyn," cried the little girl in a cross voice. "Don't you, Mervyn?"
"No, I don't," answered the boy; "I will go if you like, Miss Kerr, for I want to learn how to write soon, that I may be able to send papa a letter."
"You are a good boy, Mervyn," said the governess with a smile as she took him by the hand, "and I promise you that I will soon let you write a little letter to your papa. Come, Bun, dear, you are not going to be naughty, I am sure. Come along and we'll have such a nice quiet morning over our books;" and she held out her other hand to the little girl.
"Well, if I am good, will you read us a story after we have said our lessons?" bargained Miss Bunny; "I just love to hear you read stories."
"Yes, I will read you a very nice story if you are good, and I have a pretty box of chocolate here that I will give to the childwho studies the hardest and keeps silence the longest."
"Oh, how nice! Oh, how jolly!" cried Bunny, clapping her hands in delight. "I'll learn my lessons awfully hard;" and away she ran down the passage to the library, pulled her spelling-book out of the drawer, and perching herself on a chair at the table began to shout out the words at the top of her voice.
"My dear Bunny, how do you think Mervyn can learn his lessons if you scream yours out in that way?" said Miss Kerr laughing; "repeat those words quietly to yourself whilst I show your cousin what he is to do."
"I don't know very much, Miss Kerr," said Mervyn shyly as he took the book from her hand; "papa says I am a dreadful dunce, but I only began to learn last year."
"Never mind that, my dear boy. If you give your attention to your book and feel anxious to learn, you will soon get on. Spell over these words for me and let me see what you can do."
Mervyn did as he was told, and with muchdifficulty he managed to spell down half a column of very easy words.
"Oh, I can do better than that! I can do better than that!" cried Bunny, wriggling about on her chair; "why, I could spell those words in a minute. Listen—h-o-u-s-e, d-a-y, m-o-u-s-e."
"Hush! Bunny, I cannot allow you to go on like that," said Miss Kerr gravely; "you have learned those words over and over again, so of course you know them well. Now, Mervyn, go and read them over by yourself and I will hear you say them without the book in a few minutes. Bunny, come and say your lesson."
The little girl slipped off her chair and came slowly across the room to Miss Kerr.
"Be quick, Bun, stir yourself," cried the governess; "I want to hear how beautifully you can spell words that you have never seen before; come along."
But Bunny still hung back with an obstinate look on her little face, that showed plainly how very unwilling she was to do as she was told.
"Come, dear child, be quick, you arewasting all my time;" and Miss Kerr held out her hand for the spelling-book.
Bunny handed it to her, and then dragging one foot slowly after the other, she at last stood by Miss Kerr's side.
"Take your finger out of your mouth, Bunny," said the governess, as she laid the book before the child and pointed to the place. "Now begin, B—"
"If you please, Miss Kerr," said Ashton, opening the door. "Mrs. Dashwood wants to see you very particular, miss, in the drawing-room. She said as she wouldn't keep you long, but you was to go to her at once."
"Very well, I will go now, Ashton," said Miss Kerr; "and now, children, I hope you will be good while I am away. Bunny, you can go over those words by yourself. See here is the box of chocolate. I will put it in the middle of the table so that you may see what you have to work for;" and placing a pretty cardboard box upon a pile of books so that the children might see the gay picture on the lid, she smiled kindly upon them both, and hurried out of the room.
For a few moments after they were left alone the little people were very silent and quiet; but soon Bunny raised her head, yawned noisily, and pushing her book away began to amuse herself by looking about the room.
"I shall get the prize," said Mervyn, "you are not learning your lesson, you know."
"No more are you," cried Bunny; "I'll learn mine up in a minute when Miss Kerr comes back, and you're as slow as an old snail at yours;" and again she began to mimic his voice and manner of spelling.
"You're very rude," cried Mervyn, getting red, "and I'll just tell Miss Kerr when she comes back."
"Tell-tale! tell-tale!" sang Bunny; "much I care! If I know my lesson best I'll get the chocolate and I won't give you one bit."
"You're a greedy thing! But you won't get it. I know my lesson splendidly, and you don't know yours at all, so I am sure to get the prize, I can tell you."
"Ha, how grand you are, to be sure!" screamed Bunny, and stretching out her handshe tried to pull the chocolate box towards her.
"You sha'n't touch it! You sha'n't touch it!" shouted Mervyn; "it isn't yours, so just leave it alone."
"It isn't yours either," cried Bunny with flaming cheeks, and she fastened her little fingers more firmly than ever round the box.
"I am sure to get it, so I shall keep it beside me till Miss Kerr comes back."
"No, you sha'n't," answered Mervyn in an angry voice, and jumping up on his chair he sprawled over the table and tried to drag the box from Bunny's hand.
"You nasty boy, let go! I'll tell Miss Kerr! I'll tell mama! You're a coward! You're a horrid—"
"Who's going to be tell-tale now?" shrieked the boy. "Give it to me, I say, give it to me," and he gave a vigorous pull at the box.
But the cardboard of which the chocolate box was composed was not strong enough to stand such pulling, and before the naughty children knew where they were it suddenly gave way and came to pieces in their hands. The beautiful prize was completely destroyed,and its whole contents were strewn all over the place.
"Now, see what you have done!" cried Bunny, bursting into tears; "you have broken the box—oh dear, oh dear, you cross, nasty, greedy boy, I—"
"I didn't do it," said Mervyn, but his voice was low and shaky, for all his anger disappeared when he saw the pretty box torn to pieces and the chocolate creams lying scattered about all over the table and floor.
"Yes, you did! If you hadn't pulled so hard it would have been all right," said Bunny tearfully. "Oh, what will Miss Kerr say? I think I'll run away to the nursery and hide. I shall be afraid to let her see me—"
"That would be cowardly," answered Mervyn; "I'm very sorry I pulled the box, and I'll stay here and tell her so;" and he went down on his knees and began to gather up the sweetmeats and put them into a sheet of paper.
"Don't eat any, Mervyn," said Bunny, "they look awfully nice, but—"
"Eat them!" exclaimed the boy indignantly, "I should think not indeed! I am not so mean as that; I wouldn't—"
"Mean—is it mean?" cried Bunny, rubbing her mouth; "oh, I didn't know, and I just took one—but Miss Kerr won't mind."
"Well, you are nasty! You tell me not to eat them, and then you go and take some yourself. Go away, I won't speak to you or be friends with you any more; you're a mean—"
"Oh, Mervyn, Mervyn, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" cried Bunny, flinging herself on her knees beside her cousin. "I didn't want to take the chocolate cream, but it looked so nice, and I just longed to take it and—"
"Children! what are you doing?" cried Miss Kerr in astonishment as her eyes fell upon the two kneeling figures and she heard Bunny's miserable tone of voice; "why are you on the floor? Come back to the table at once."
"Bunny," whispered Mervyn, "we must tell Miss Kerr now what we have done;" and springing to his feet he caught the little girl by the hand and dragged her over to the other side of the room, where the governesshad seated herself, ready to begin lessons again.
"We have been very naughty," he began, looking down at the floor; "we didn't learn our lessons—and—we—broke—the box—and spilt all the chocolates—but we are very sorry, indeed we are," and he raised his blue eyes full of tears to Miss Kerr's face.
"Yes, we are very sorry—and—I eat a chocolate cream—but Mervyn didn't because it was mean," cried Bunny, and then, overcome with grief, she buried her face in her pinafore and sobbed aloud.
"I cannot tell you how much surprised and shocked I feel at such conduct," said Miss Kerr gravely. "I really thought I could trust you for a few minutes alone. Mervyn, I am very much grieved to think that you could behave in such a naughty way. Bunny is wild and giddy, but I thought you were going to show her a good example, by being good and gentle yourself."
"Yes, and I wanted to," said Mervyn, "but she called me names and then I got cross, and then—I—"
"Yes, and I got cross too," cried Bunny,putting down her pinafore for a minute. "I was angry and—"
"And I am afraid you both forgot that God was looking at you, and that he was greatly displeased at you for giving way to your wicked passions in such a manner. How did you come to be so naughty? Mervyn, what began it all?"
The tears were rolling down the little boy's cheeks, but he dried them with his handkerchief, and choking back those that were still ready to flow, he tried to tell the story of the torn chocolate box as well as he could.
"Well, I am glad you have told me all about it," said Miss Kerr, gently, "and as you both seem so sorry for your conduct, I suppose I must forgive you. But remember, dear children, that you must tell God that you are sorry, and ask him to forgive you. Pray to Him that he may help you to overcome your tempers and become good, gentle little children. I will not scold you any more, and you have punished yourselves by breaking the box and spilling the sweetmeats, for now I cannot allow you to have any of them."
"Oh, I don't mind that!" cried Mervyn quickly. "If you will forgive me for being naughty, I don't want any sweets."
"I do forgive you, Mervyn, but don't forget what I told you. Say a prayer to-night before you go to bed and ask God's forgiveness and help."
"Yes, I will, I will," cried the boy, "and I will try and be ever so good all day to make up for being so naughty this morning."
"And I'll be good too," said Bunny; "I am sorry you won't give us any sweets, for they look so nice, but still I—"
"You won't ask for any! That is right, dear. I know you like sweets, Bun, but I must punish you a little, you know, so I can't give you any to-day. Come, now, I forgive you both, so let us go back to our lessons at once; and I hope you will do your best to show me that you are truly sorry, by working very hard for the next two hours."
"Yes, yes, we will, indeed," cried the children together, and off they ran to get their books.
"That is right! That looks like real work," said Miss Kerr, as she wrapped upthe chocolate creams in paper, and locked them away in a drawer. "Come, Bunny, bring your book to me, dear."
Bunny opened her spelling-book briskly, Mervyn began to read his lesson attentively, and perfect peace reigned once more.