chap9_div
chap_10
T
helessons were over about half-past one, and as they had been well learned and quickly said, Miss Kerr was really pleased with the children, and rewarded them for their industry and attention by reading a pretty story, that interested and amused them very much.
This kept them pleasantly occupied until nearly two o'clock, and then they ran off to the nursery in high spirits, to get themselves washed and dressed for their early dinner.
"I am so sorry, Miss Kerr," said Bunny, as she took her seat at the dinner-table, "I'm really dreadfully sorry that nice boy we saw yesterday has not come to have lunch with us as he promised he would."
"Yes, dear, so am I, for I should like very much to see him," answered Miss Kerr, "but I daresay the rain kept him from coming."
"But it's not raining one drop now," said Mervyn, "and I declare, there is the sun coming out; I do wish he would come."
"Oh, but it's wet under-foot, Mervyn," remarked Bunny wisely, "and it's a bad thing to get your feet wet—Sophie screams fearfully at me if I put my toe out, even long after the rain has stopped."
"Yes, when you go in your thin shoes, of course," cried Mervyn; "but big boys like Frank Collins are not afraid of wetting their feet. Are they, Miss Kerr?"
"No, I don't think they are, dear," answered the governess, laughing, "I know my brothers run out in all kinds of weather."
"Come in, my boy! Here they are at their dinner," said Mr. Dashwood, opening the door at this moment, and entering the room with young Collins. "Miss Kerr, this is our young friend who so bravely saved poor Bunny yesterday," he added as he presented Frank to the governess.
"I am very glad to see you, Master Collins,and these children have been longing for you to come," said Miss Kerr; "it was very brave of you to stop the pony."
"Brave! not at all, Miss Kerr," answered Frank with a bright honest smile that won the lady's heart at once. "I don't think the pony was really running away, and if this little girl," and he patted Bunny on the head, "had not been frightened, but had sat up properly and kept a good hold of her reins, she would have been all right."
"Oh! Bunny, Bunny, you little coward," cried Miss Kerr, "and so, after all, it was you who held on by the mane, and not Mervyn, as you so gaily told him he would do yesterday."
"Did she tell him that?" asked Frank as he took a seat at the table beside Mervyn. "Well, I think this little chap would be the bravest of the two in real danger. He would not be so rash, perhaps, but I think he would keep cool and not lose his head as she did."
"Oh, but I was frightened," sighed Bunny. "I was sure Frisk was running away;" and she looked so very tearful that her papakindly changed the conversation by asking his young guest how he liked staying at Scarborough.
"Are there many nice walks about?" asked Mr. Dashwood, when they had all finished their lunch and were preparing to leave the table. "I mean short walks within easy distance, where these little folks could go, for instance?"
"Yes, there's the old castle," said Frank, "on the West Cliff, then there's the people's Park in the valley, which of course you all know well, and Oliver's Mount, which I think the nicest walk of any."
"Oliver's Mount! Oh, that is a nice place," said Bunny, who had quite recovered her gay spirits again. "Sophie says she went up there one day with some friends, and she had buns and lemonade and all kinds of things, in a little house, a funny small house, she says, that is up there on the top. Do take us up Oliver's Mount, like a dear good papa."
"Yes, I know the little house Sophie means," said Frank; "it is only a small shed, you can just see it from the window, look,there it is, right away up on the top of the mount."
"It looks a great height, certainly," said Mr. Dashwood. "I wonder if these little ones could manage to go such a long way."
"Oh! yes, we could, we could," cried the children together.
"Very well, then, I suppose we had better set off at once," said Mr. Dashwood; "you have no objection to my taking these small people, Miss Kerr?"
"Not the slightest," she replied. "I was going to send them with Sophie, but I am sure they will enjoy going with you much better. Mrs. Dashwood is not well enough to go out, so I intend to read to her the best part of the afternoon."
"I am glad to hear that, for I was afraid she might feel dull if we set off for a long walk," said Mr. Dashwood. "Well, run away, children, and get ready; the sooner we start the better."
"It will be a long way for their little legs if we go right to the top," said Frank doubtfully. "Mervyn doesn't look very strong, and Bunny's legs are very short."
"Indeed they are not," cried Bunny indignantly. "I can walk splendidly; can't I, Miss Kerr?"
"Yes, dear, you are a very good walker for your age and size."
"There, do you hear that?" cried Bunny, jumping off her chair and throwing her arms round her father's neck. "Do take us, do take us, dear darling old papa."
"You little rogue!" cried Mr. Dashwood, "I do believe you could coax the birds off the bushes."
"No, papa, indeed I couldn't," answered Bunny gravely; "I often tried, but they would not come; and I tried to put salt on their tails too, but they flew away and—"
"You dear little goose, that was a great shame; they must have been very rude birds indeed, my poor Bun," said Mr. Dashwood with a hearty laugh at the child's simplicity. "You have coaxed me anyway, dear. I will take you to Oliver's Mount; and I have thought of a plan that will save your short legs and Mervyn's weak ones a good deal."
"A plan! Oh! what is it? you dear, darling papa," she cried joyfully.
"No, I won't tell you, little one. Run off and get dressed, and you will see what it is when you come back. Away you go!—both of you. Be quick, or Frank and I will not wait for you."
Bunny and Mervyn were both very curious to know what this wonderful plan of Mr. Dashwood's could be, and chattered away about it as they were being dressed by Sophie.
"To the top of Oliver's Mount!" cried the maid, holding up her hands in astonishment when the children told her where they were going. "Gracious! is it that monsieur your papa knows how far it is? You will both be too tired to return home to-night."
"Then we shall sleep in that little house at the top, among the buns and the lemonade," said Mervyn. "That would be fine fun, wouldn't it, Bunny?"
"I don't know about that," replied the little girl. "But do not be frightened, Sophie; papa has a fine plan, so we sha'n't be one bit tired. Come on, Mervyn," and, laughing merrily, the two children ran off together down-stairs.
"Papa, papa! where is your plan?" cried Bunny, as they met her father and young Collins in the hall. "We do so want to know what your wonderful plan can be."
"Here it is, then, my dear," said Mr. Dashwood, and he threw open the door, and displayed two steady-looking old donkeys standing ready saddled at the gate. "You are to ride one of those fellows, and Mervyn the other. That is my plan; isn't it a good one?"
"Capital! capital! What fun! what fun!" cried the children, clapping their hands in delight. "But, papa, the donkeys will never go up the mountain," exclaimed Bunny suddenly; "Sophie says there is a big stile to get over, so how will they manage that?"
"We won't ask them to go over the stile," said Frank Collins, as he lifted the little girl and seated her comfortably on the saddle.
"They will carry you up the road to the foot of the Mount, and then we will leave them there to rest and eat some grass, while we go on our rambles up to the top."
"Wasn't it a capital plan of papa's, Mervyn, to get us these donkeys?" asked Bunny,as she and her cousin jogged quietly along the road on the steady old animals. "These are such nice well-behaved creatures, and don't run away in a hurry like Master Frisk."
"No, I should think not," answered Mervyn laughing. "Why, just look at this fellow," he cried as his donkey came to a sudden stand-still in the middle of the road. "What can we do to make him go on? Here, boy, please make him move a little," he shouted to the donkey-boy, who was loitering behind talking to a comrade.
"Hey up!" screamed the lad, running up quietly from behind, and bringing his stick down heavily on the poor brute's back; "hey up, Teddy!" and away trotted the donkey at a rapid pace up the hill.
When Bunny's charger saw his companion starting off so gaily, he pricked up his ears and followed him as fast as ever he could.
"Your plan was a capital one, uncle," said Mervyn, as he and Bunny jumped off their donkeys and prepared themselves to climb over the stile and begin their walk up the mount together.
"I suppose you feel as fresh as a couple ofdaisies, and not at all shaken?" said Frank Collins. "Come along and we'll have a race to the very top;" and away he ran nimbly up the side of the hill.
Bunny and Mervyn struggled bravely after him, and they went so fast that they soon left Mr. Dashwood behind them, for he declared that he was too old to run, and that he would follow them at his leisure.
The grass was very slippery after the rain, and the mount was very steep, and so, although the children went as fast as their little legs could carry them, yet they could not keep up with their young friend, who soon appeared a long way above them, waving a handkerchief, and cheering and shouting at the top of his voice. But at last they all reached the highest part of the mount, and, puffing and panting after their fearful exertions, they seated themselves upon a bench and gazed about them in delight.
"Isn't it jolly up here, Mr. Dashwood?" said Frank. "I think it would be worth climbing ever so much higher to see such a sight, don't you?"
"Yes, indeed I do," answered Mr. Dashwood; "and the air is very fine; it feels so fresh and strong. That is the old castle away over there, I suppose."
"Yes; and doesn't the old part of the town, with its queer red brick houses and narrow streets, look pretty? And look at the bay in front of it, with its ships and barges. Doesn't it all look lovely in the sunlight?"
"Yes, Frank, it does look pretty," cried Mervyn; "and isn't the sea a beautiful blue colour?"
"And don't our donkeys look funny little gray fellows, away down there on the road?" cried Bunny. "Oh, dear! they do look far away."
"Bunny would rather look at her donkey than all the beauties of the country," said Mr. Dashwood with a smile, as he took his little girl upon his knee. "But these youngsters must not be defrauded of their cakes and lemonade, Frank. Would you mind going into that wonderful shop to see if you can get some?"
"Oh! they have lots of good things in there, I know," answered Frank. "I hopeyou will be able to eat a good supply, Bunny?"
"Yes, I feel able to eat several cakes," cried Bunny; "thank you, dear papa, for thinking of them. I do love buns and lemonade. Don't you, Mervyn?"
"Yes, Bunny, very much," replied her cousin.
"I am afraid I shall get scolded for letting you have them," said Mr. Dashwood, as Frank appeared, carrying an armful of cakes and buns, and followed by a man with glasses and bottles of lemonade.
"If you eat all these you won't be able to take anything at tea, and then Miss Kerr will be so dreadfully angry."
"Oh! never mind, papa, dear," cried Bunny; "cakes and lemonade are just as good as tea, but I will eat as much as ever I can when I go home, and then no one will scold you."
"That's a good, kind little woman," said her father laughing; "but finish up those cakes now as fast as you can, for I want to get back to the club for an hour before dinner."
"I will just put this in my pocket for thedonkey-boy, papa," said the little girl, holding up a bun which she could not manage to eat; "he was very good, and made the donkeys go so well."
"I think we will go round by the road, Frank," said Mr. Dashwood, rising from the bench; "it is not quite so steep as the mount, and is very little longer."
"Very well; I daresay it will be the best way to return; it will be a variety anyway," said Frank. "Mervyn, will you walk with me? I want to talk to you about India and all our friends there."
"Yes, yes," said the little boy, "that is the very thing I should like."
"But our donkeys—oh! are we not going home on our donkeys?" cried Bunny.
"Of course we are, you little grumbler," said her father. "We are only going to walk round by the road to them instead of tumbling pell-mell down the hill again. Come along with me, and let these two boys talk over their affairs together."
Then, taking his little girl by the hand, Mr. Dashwood walked quickly away with her down the hilly road. Frank and Mervynfollowed them slowly arm-in-arm, and the elder boy, with a look of yearning love in his eyes, asked his small friend many anxious questions about the dear father and mother whom he had not seen for such a long time.
chap10_div
chap_11
O
nelovely afternoon towards the end of September Mrs. Dashwood and Miss Kerr sat together on the lawn in front of the house. They were stitching away at some pretty clothes, that were evidently intended for a large wax doll, with golden ringlets and blue eyes, that lay on a table that stood between them on the grass.
Mrs. Dashwood looked pale and delicate still, but there was a well-pleased smile upon her sweet face as she sat enjoying the sea breezes. She was comfortably propped up with pillows in a large wicker chair, and her thin white fingers were busily engaged onher dainty work. The fresh country air had done her great service, and she was full of the hope that she should soon return quite strong and well to town.
Bunny lay curled up in another big chair, and although she knew very well that the pretty doll was intended for her, she looked very cross and did not seem to notice what was going on about her.
"Why don't you go and play, Bunny?" said Miss Kerr looking up from her work. "I do not like to see you tumbling about there with such a cross look on your face. Go and get a book—or will you have a needle and thread and try to do some sewing?"
"No, thank you," answered Bunny, "I hate books and I can't sew."
"But you might learn, dear," said her mother gently. "It is a great pleasure to be able to sew, Bunny. I quite enjoy doing my piece of work after being obliged to lie on the sofa for such a long time."
"I don't want to learn to sew," cried Bunny. "I want to have a game. I am tired sitting here, mama. Oh, I do wishMervyn and Frank would be quick and come back."
"Well, my dear Bunny, they will soon be here," said Miss Kerr. "They promised to be back at three and it wants a quarter to three now, so you won't have very long to wait."
"Oh! I'm so glad!" cried Bunny; "I've spent such a nasty dull day without them."
"Well, really now!" said her mother laughing; "that's a kind thing to say. I thought my little girl liked being with me."
"Oh! yes, mama, so I do," answered Bunny quickly; "but Mervyn has been away such a long time, and I do want him to come back and have a good game with me. He stayed to lunch with Frank up there at the hotel, and Miss Kerr wouldn't let me go, and oh, dear! I have been so lonely all day."
"Poor little girl!" said her mother, "but Miss Kerr was quite right not to let you go, Bunny; Frank will have quite enough to do to manage Mervyn. You are very hard to keep in order, for you are very wild and—"
"Oh! I'm not a bit wild now, mama; I'm as quiet as a lamb—I am indeed."
"Bunny, Bunny, where are you, I say?—where are you?" called Mervyn, running up the garden walk and across the lawn.
"Here I am, Mervyn, and oh! I am so glad you have come back," and the little girl rushed forward eagerly to meet her cousin. "But where is Frank? I thought he was coming back with you."
"Yes, so he is. He will be here in a minute; and he has something for you, Bunny."
"Something for me, Mervyn; oh! what is it?" she cried; "do tell me what it is."
"He'll tell you himself—he'll tell you himself," answered Mervyn, and going down on the grass, he tumbled heels over head two or three times in succession.
"You tiresome boy," cried his cousin, "do get up and tell me what Frank has for me, and where he got it, and—"
"Go and ask Frank himself—there he is," shouted Mervyn, starting quickly to his feet again, as young Collins appeared suddenly at the top of the flight of steps that led fromthe drawing-room into the garden. His hands were both behind his back, and he laughed merrily when he saw Bunny's face of excitement and curiosity as she ran across the lawn to meet him.
"You dear good Frank, Mervyn says you have something for me," she cried; "do tell me what it is. I do so want to know."
"A bird, Bunny; a young thrush," said Frank gaily, as he drew a small cage from behind his back and held it up to the little girl. "I put him in here because it was the only thing I could find; but I will get you a proper big cage for him to-morrow."
"Oh! never mind the cage; but let me see the bird," cried Bunny.
"He is rather frightened just now, Bun, but I think he will soon sit up and begin to sing; and thrushes do sing beautifully."
"He is a dear little fellow! a perfect darling! But where did you get him, Frank?" asked Bunny in delight, as she danced joyfully round her new treasure. "Did you manage to put salt on his tail?"
"He hasn't got a tail, Bunny," answered Frank, laughing; "he is so young that hehasn't got one yet. I caught him quite easily in the hotel garden."
"Mama, Miss Kerr, look at the lovely bird Frank has brought me," cried Bunny, running back to her mother's chair.
"A bird, Frank?" said Mrs. Dashwood, looking into the cage in surprise. "What a pity it was to catch him and put him in prison, poor little creature; he looks dreadfully frightened."
"In prison, mama!" cried Bunny indignantly. "Why, it's a lovely cage; and see, he has water, and hard-boiled egg, and bread sopped in water, and—"
"Yes, dear, I see all those things, but still he is in prison, Bunny," said Mrs. Dashwood gently, "and I think it would have been much kinder to have left him to fly about the woods and sing his sweet songs in happy freedom."
"I am afraid he will never sing again," said Miss Kerr as Frank placed the cage on the table beside her; "he looks as if he were going to die, I think; just see how he has gathered himself up into a ball, and his eyes are shut."
"Oh! I hope he won't die," cried Frank; "I am sorry I caught him, Mrs. Dashwood. Shall I let him fly away again?"
"No, you sha'n't, Frank; he is my bird, and you must not let him fly away," cried Bunny; "I want to keep him."
"But, Bunny, your mama thinks he would be glad to get away, so I would rather let him go. Do say I may send him off."
"No, no, Frank, you sha'n't; I want him; he's mine now," answered the little girl in an angry voice; "I will have him and keep him;" and making a dive across the table she seized the cage and ran away with it down the garden.
"Bunny! Bunny! come back this minute," cried her mother and Miss Kerr together.
"I'll soon bring her back!" exclaimed Frank, and off he went after the runaway.
When Bunny heard footsteps behind her she turned her head to see who it was that was following her, and as she ran along without looking where she was going, her foot came against a stone, and down she went, cage and all, upon the gravelled path.
"Oh, you cruel big boy!" she cried, bursting into tears. "Why did you come after me and make me fall in that way? I'll never speak to you again—never;" and, gathering herself up from the ground, she began to rub her knees, and brush the dust and sand off her frock.
"Now, don't be silly, Bunny," said Frank, as he picked up the cage. "You are not a bit hurt—but, look here! I believe you have killed the poor bird."
"Oh! no, Frank, dear! oh! I didn't do that!" sobbed the little girl, coming forward and looking wistfully into the cage.
"Yes, I am afraid he is dead. He was very much frightened before," said Frank sadly, "and the shock of the fall, and all the water and things falling on him have killed him. I am so sorry. I wish, now, I had left him to sing happily in the garden, Mrs. Dashwood," he said, going back to where the ladies sat together, carrying the poor dead thrush in his hand. "You were quite right; it was a great pity to take the poor bird and put him in a cage. I will never catch a young bird again—never."
"Poor little creature! I thought it would not live long," said Miss Kerr; "but, Bunny, you were very naughty to run away with it in that way; I am sure the fall helped to kill the thrush."
"I didn't mean to kill it!" cried Bunny in a choking voice. "Oh! mama, I am so sorry!" and she flung herself on the ground beside her mother's chair, and buried her face in her lap.
"Never mind, Bunny, dear," whispered Mervyn softly, as he stole up and put his arm round her neck. "Don't cry, dear; I am sure it would have died very soon anyway. Wouldn't it, Miss Kerr?"
"Yes, dear, I think it would," said the governess gently. "But what are you going to do with the thrush, Frank?"
"Oh! I suppose I must bury it," answered Frank; "I wish I had a pretty box to put it in."
"I have one, I have one," cried Bunny, jumping quickly to her feet, and running off towards the house, mopping up her tears as she went along. "I've got a dear little one that will just do, Frank."
"We must have a solemn funeral," said young Collins. "Who will write an epitaph to put at the head of his grave?"
"An epee—what, Frank?" asked Mervyn, with a puzzled look on his little face. "What do you mean?"
"An epitaph, you little simple Indian; do you not know what that means?"
"No," said Mervyn gravely, "I don't think people in India ever have such things."
"Don't they indeed! Bunny, what is an epitaph?" asked Frank, laughing merrily as he took a pretty bon-bon box from the little girl's hand.
"I don't know, I'm sure," said Bunny; "I never heard of such a thing. What is it yourself?"
"Well, you are a clever pair! Why, it's something written on a tombstone," cried Frank, and, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket, he scribbled a few words, and then proceeded to read them aloud. "Listen and learn what an epitaph is, my friends:—
"Beneath there lies a little thrush,Who should have sung on many a bush."
"Beneath there lies a little thrush,Who should have sung on many a bush."
"Capital!" said Miss Kerr, laughing merrily at this brilliant production. "Why, you are a regular poet!"
"It is very good indeed, Frank," said Mrs. Dashwood with a bright smile. "Now, Mervyn, I hope you know what an epitaph is?"
"Yes, I think so," said Mervyn slowly; "but no one says bush like thrush. It doesn't sound at all right."
"Hallo! young Indian, are you going to find fault with my pronunciation? Isn't it splendid, Miss Bun, bun?"
"I'm not bun, bun, and I think Mervyn is quite right," answered the little girl with a toss of her head. "It sounds very funny, and all that, but it isn't the proper way to say the word, I know."
"Of course not, little Miss Wisehead, but we are allowed to say all kinds of things in poetry," said Frank grandly; "and I can tell you it's jolly convenient when a fellow wants a rhyme. But now that we have decided this knotty point, let us go and look for a nice place where we can bury the little fellow;" and, having placed the thrush in thebox, he went off to look for a suitable burying-place.
"Put him in my little garden," cried Bunny eagerly. "There are lovely flowers there, and we can make him such a nice grave."
"Where is your garden, monkey?" said Frank. "I did not know you had such a thing."
"Yes, I have; at least I call it mine," answered Bunny, skipping gaily along. "It's a dear little flower-bed down there by the sun-dial, and it will be such a pretty place for the poor dead bird. Do bury him there, Frank."
"Very well; what pleases you pleases me," and off they went to Bunny's garden.
Very carefully Frank dug up the earth, and, having placed the bird within the grave, he filled it in neatly, took a lovely geranium from a neighbouring flower-bed, and planted it just over the poor songster's head.
"We must water it," cried Bunny, "or it will not grow," and away she rushed to the tool-house. Here she found the gardener'swatering-pot, and, unfortunately for them all, it was more than half-full of water.
"This will make the flowers grow beautifully," she cried; and before the boys had time to speak or stop her hand, she tilted up the heavy pot and sent the water flying all over their feet and legs.
"Oh! Bunny, Bunny! just see what you have done," exclaimed Mervyn, beginning to cry as he felt the cold water soaking in through his stockings and shoes. "Oh, dear! what shall I do?"
"You little mischief!" cried Frank, shaking himself. "What on earth made you do that?"
"Oh! I wanted the flower to grow," said Bunny, bursting into tears, "and I did not mean to wet you and Mervyn at all; and look at my own pinafore and frock. Oh, dear! what will Sophie say?"
"Sophie will say you are a naughty, wicked little creature," cried the maid, darting out suddenly from behind a tree. "Come in this minute and get your things changed. Monsieur Mervyn, go to the nursery at once."
"I won't go! I won't go a bit!" cried Bunny, stamping her foot angrily. "The sun will dry me in a minute, and I won't go with you; so there!"
"Come along, Bunny, like a good girl," said Mervyn, "let us run fast and see who will get up to the nursery first," and away he went up the path as fast as he could.
"I won't go, Sophie. I want to stay with Frank," cried Bunny once more, as she caught the boy's hand and held on to it tightly.
"You ought to go, dear, indeed you ought," said Frank. "See, Mervyn has gone, and you know you should always do what Sophie tells you."
"No, I won't; she's a nasty thing! and it's twice as nice out here, so I won't go one bit."
"Your mama and Miss Kerr have returned to the house, and you must come in and get changed your dress, mademoiselle."
"I won't! I won't," shrieked Bunny, clinging more closely to Frank, and turning her back upon her nurse in a most impertinent manner.
"We shall see if you do not, you bad,naughty child," cried Sophie in an angry voice, and running forward she seized the little girl in her arms, and carried her off screaming and kicking into the house.
chap11_div
chap_12
A
littlebefore seven o'clock that evening the children stood at the drawing-room window. All traces of the recent struggle in the garden had been removed, and in the neat little girl in the dainty cream lace and muslin frock, with its fluttering pink ribbons, few persons would have recognized the small fury that Sophie had carried off wriggling and crying to the nursery a few hours before.
But Miss Bunny had already forgotten that such a scene had ever taken place, and was making very merry over a big blue-bottle fly that she and Mervyn were doing their best to catch as it walked up and down the window-pane.
Frank Collins sat at the piano playing some very lively tunes, and from time to time Bunny would pause in her pursuit of the fly and dance lightly over the floor in time to the music.
"Papa, papa," she cried, as Mr. Dashwood entered the room with his wife upon his arm, "doesn't Frank make lovely tunes?"
"I don't know, dear," answered her father. "Frank does not seem anxious to let me hear his music, for he has stopped short the moment I appeared."
"I am afraid Mrs. Dashwood would not care for my music," answered Frank modestly. "I only play from ear."
"Oh, Frank, how can you say such a thing!" cried Bunny indignantly. "Why, mama, he plays just like Miss Kerr does. He plays away up in the treble with two hands, and then he plays pum, pum, pum away down in the bass; oh, it is most beautiful! Do play again, Frank."
"No, dear, not now," said Frank. "I'll play for you another time, but don't ask me now;" and he hopped the little girl up on his knee.
"Well, then, ask—you know what," whispered Bunny mysteriously. "You know you said you would—you promised."
"Oh, yes, of course; I very nearly forgot," said Frank, "and I suppose Sophie will soon be carrying you off to bed, it's nearly half-past seven."
"Yes, she will, unless you ask that, and papa and mama say, Yes."
"Mrs. Dashwood," said Frank, "it's a gala night, as they call it, on the Spa, and there are to be fireworks, so will you let these little people stay up for them? Please do."
"What! to go out in the night air and into the crowd?" asked Mrs. Dashwood in a horrified voice. "My dear Frank, I could not think of allowing such a thing. It is quite impossible!"
"Of course it is, Mrs. Dashwood," answered Frank. "But I did not mean them to go out at all, I—"
"Oh, no, dear mama," cried Bunny eagerly, "Frank does not want us to go out, but to sit up and see them from Miss Kerr's window, that is all."
"Bunny, come here, dear, I want to have a talk with you," said her mother gravely,and guessing that she was going to receive a scolding for her naughty conduct in the garden, the child stole slowly over the floor, and at last stood in rather a shamefaced manner beside her mother's chair.
"Do you think, Bunny, that a little girl who screamed and kicked as you did when Sophie took you in out of the garden, deserves to be allowed to stay up to see the fireworks?"
"No, mama," answered Bunny in a low voice, and two large tears trickled down her cheeks and fell on her mother's hand.
"Auntie, dear, don't scold poor Bunny, for she is very sorry she was naughty, and she begged Sophie's pardon before we came down."
"Well, I am glad to hear that, Mervyn," said Mrs. Dashwood, "and I hope Bunny is sorry; but I don't think she should be allowed to stay up to see the fireworks, she cannot expect it."
"Why, mama, what is all this about?" said Mr. Dashwood, coming over and putting his arm round his little daughter. "Why are you scolding poor Bunny so much?"
"Because I was naughty, papa," said Bunny, creeping up very close to him. "ButI am very sorry, and I promise to be good."
"Oh, well, don't scold her any more, dear," said her papa, stroking the little golden head, "she can't do more than promise to be a good child."
"And do forgive her, and let her stay up to see the fireworks," whispered Mervyn, "it would be such fun!"
"What is that you are saying, Mervyn? What dreadful plot are you hatching over there?" cried Mr. Dashwood, "why, the fireworks don't go off until nine, and your bedtime is at half-past seven, isn't it?"
"Yes, I know it is, uncle, but we're not a bit sleepy, and we never saw any fireworks, and this is the last gala night before we leave Scarborough, and—"
"My dear Mervyn, what a string of reasons!" cried his uncle laughing; "after such a list, I think we must surely grant your request. That is, if mama will forgive this poor culprit, and allow her to stay up."
"Well, as she is sorry, and as Mervyn says it is the last night, perhaps—"
"That's right! that's right!" said her husband, "and now let us go in to dinner. This animated discussion has given me quite an appetite."
And as Ashton at this moment threw open the door, and announced that dinner was served, Mr. Dashwood offered his arm to his wife, and led her away to the dining-room.
"What fun! what fun! to be allowed to stay up to see the fireworks," cried Bunny, and catching hold of Frank's arm she hurried him off after her papa and mama.
"Now, you must sit quiet, children," said Mrs. Dashwood; "if you make a noise I shall have to send you away to the nursery."
"We'll be as quiet as mice," said Bunny, and pulling Mervyn down on a large woolly mat in the middle window, she began to whisper joyfully about the treat that was in store for them before the evening was over.
The first part of the dinner seemed rather long to the two little ones in their corner, but when at last the dessert was placed on the table, and Bunny was seated at her papa's elbow, and Mervyn between his aunt and his dear friend Frank, they all became so merrytogether, that the fireworks were for the time completely forgotten.
"Oh, papa, I heard such a funny noise just now," cried Bunny suddenly, "what can it be? Listen, there it is again—whizz—whizz—"
"It's the first rocket, I'm sure!" exclaimed Frank, dropping the nut-crackers, "let us go off to a window somewhere, for I am sure the fireworks are going to begin."
"How jolly!" cried Mervyn. "Aunt, may we run up to Miss Kerr's room?"
"Can't we see them from here?" asked Mr. Dashwood, pulling up the blind and looking out. "What a beautiful dark night it is! Better stay here, chicks, I think. See, there goes another rocket!"
"Oh, that is lovely!" cried Bunny, clapping her hands. "But, papa, dear, we can see them much better from Miss Kerr's room, she has such a nice balcony, and she promised to let us go up to it if mama would allow us."
"Very well, then, away you go," said her father; "but be quick, or you will lose all the fun."
"Be sure and wrap yourselves up, dearchildren, if you go out into the balcony," said Mrs. Dashwood. "The night air is very sharp."
"Oh, yes, mama, we will make ourselves as warm as toast," cried Bunny gaily. "Come, Frank, do come up to the balcony with us."
"All right, little woman, jump upon my back and we'll run a race with Mervyn."
Very much delighted at such an invitation, Bunny sprang from a chair on to Frank's back, and away they went galloping madly after Mervyn, up the stairs and along the passage to Miss Kerr's room. There they found Sophie waiting for them, heavily laden with cloaks and shawls in which she insisted on wrapping them up till they were nearly smothered, and shrieked wildly for just one little space through which they might manage to breathe.
"Very well, you will all catch your deaths of colds," cried Sophie. "Miss Bunny, you will want the doctor to-morrow, I am quite sure;" and she flounced out of the room and banged the door after her.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish!" cried Frank, laughing, as he released poor Mervyn'sface from the thick shawl in which the maid had rolled him up. "She's an awful scold that Sophie."
"But she's jolly kind to us sometimes," said Mervyn stoutly; "and we torment her dreadfully, don't we, Bunny?"
"Yes, we do indeed," answered the little girl; "and she doesn't always scold, Master Frank."
"Goodness me! don't be so indignant," cried Frank. "I meant no offence. I daresay Sophie is a regular angel."
"She's not quite that," said Miss Kerr as she opened the window and let the young people out upon the balcony. "But I am glad to hear the children stand up for her, for, as Mervyn says, they do torment her, and still she is very good-natured and kind to them on the whole."
"Yes, indeed she is," said Mervyn; "but oh! just look at that, isn't it exquisite?"
"Lovely!" cried Frank. "It's a regular shower of golden hail! But I think I like the Roman candles best. Look, Bunny, there's one—see—those two stars—watch how they change colour—first they're red—then blue—then—"
"Oh, yes, yes," cried Bunny dancing about. "There they go, right away over the sea! What lovely things fireworks are!"
"It is a pity we could not have gone down on the Spa to see the set pieces," said Frank. "I believe they are most beautiful. But then the crowd is something dreadful."
"Do they send the fireworks up from the Spa?" asked Mervyn; "they look just as if they were coming from the road up there in front of the Crown Hotel."
"No, they are sent from a place just over the Spa, up among the trees there, but a long way below the hotel."
"Oh dear! there goes a splendid rocket," cried Mervyn, "and doesn't it make a lovely noise?"
"Oh! I can't bear the noise," said Bunny, putting her fingers in her ears, "it makes me jump."
"Now that is really charming!" said Miss Kerr, as the whole bay with its ships and boats was suddenly illuminated by a brilliant crimson light. "How lovely everything looks in that soft, rich colour!"
"Oh! and I declare you can see Oliver'sMount and the dear little cake shop," cried Bunny. "And, Mervyn, I wonder where our old donkeys are to-night," and she peered away out in the direction of the sands where the poor animals usually spent their days.
"At home in their beds, my dear," said Miss Kerr laughing, "and that's where small people like you should be; it must be near ten o'clock."
"Oh! not yet, not yet," cried the children; "we must stay and see the last of the fireworks!"
"That is the last now, I'm sure," said Frank. "That thick yellow light comes from the grand finale, which we cannot see—ha! there goes another rocket. Hurrah! the whole thing is at an end."
"Very well, my dears, you must say good-night," said Miss Kerr; "your poor little eyes are positively blinking with sleep, Bunny, dear."
"No, they're not," said the little girl, "but they feel funny and won't go quite straight."
"Are you getting a squint, then?" said Frank. "Come along, old lady, a few hours' sleep will make them go straight enough;"and putting one arm round Bunny and the other round Mervyn, he marched them off to the nursery, where he deposited them one after the other on their little beds.
The children were really quite tired out with excitement, and the fatigue of sitting up to such an unusually late hour; so when Frank left them for the night, they did not utter a word or make a complaint. They said their prayers, were undressed at once, and, laying their weary heads upon their pillows, were soon fast asleep.