Chatterbox, 1906 Part 15

'Oh, Father!' cried Marjorie, laughing, 'you can't say we are not reasonable. I heard Mademoiselle telling Miss Leigh so. It was one day when she was out of temper, and we didn't deserve it.'

'Never mind Miss Leigh,' broke in Georgie. 'I hate her name out of the schoolroom.'

'Sh--sh!' said his father. 'I can't allow that. Miss Leigh is to be pitied for having you _in_ the schoolroom.'

'Tell us about the ruined summer-house, Dad,' went on Georgie, eagerly.

'The door was open just now, and we all peeped in. Oh, wasn't Peet angry.'

'Hullo!' remarked the Colonel. 'Whose fault was that?'

'We found it open upon our return from boating,' Marjorie hastened to say.

'I don't like that. It shows great carelessness on the part of somebody.

I hope none of you went inside?'

'It wasn't for want of the wish to,' replied Alan; 'but the door nearly banged on the top of us, so we had to scuttle as fast as we could. Peet was very rude about it. It was not our fault that the door was open, but we have every right to go in if it is.'

'No right at all,' answered the Colonel, somewhat sternly. 'The place belongs to the Moat property, and it is Aunt Betty's desire, as well as mine, that none of you children should go in. The building is very old, and every year its condition becomes more and more dangerous. There have been great falls from the roof already. I will not have you there, not any one of you. You may as well know at once that there is a pa.s.sage from it to some spot---- '

'To the hole in the face of the cliff?' asked Alan, eagerly.

'It can hardly go so far, I fancy. But I am uncertain. I know, however, that a part of it leads to Aunt Betty's cellars.'

'Could we get in through the cellars?' asked Marjorie.

'Aunt Betty may have the door locked, or, perhaps, permanently closed.

About that I do not know either.'

They had by this time reached the bridge over the moat, the waters of which reflected the peaceful calm of that beautiful August morning.

Before them lay the Moat House, weather-beaten, dark with age, like an old soldier at rest after many battles. The original building--the one which had seen the struggles between the followers of the Red and White Roses--had been small; but succeeding generations of the c.o.ke family had added to it, as necessity arose, with the result that the house--an irregular structure of two stories--extended over a good deal of ground, and represented every style of architecture.

CHAPTER III.

The weather suddenly changed. It had continued fine and hot for several weeks, and there was no sign of any break in the succession of cloudless days. The great heat was bound, however, to end in a thunderstorm. The air became very sultry, and yet there was a sighing among the leaves of the trees.

'There is plenty of rain coming,' said Colonel De Bohun, as he stood by Lady c.o.ke's side, and watched the children going in rather languidly to their tea. 'We want it badly.'

He was right. That night the greatest storm the children had ever heard startled them out of their beds. Georgie took refuge with Marjorie, and even Alan came and sat on her bed, a blanket wrapped round the three of them, because it 'was more comfortable to be all together,' while the thunder crashed overhead, and the vivid lightning lit up the room, in spite of the candles which burnt upon the dressing-table.

All the next day the children had to amuse themselves in the house, and, truth to tell, they were not sorry for one whole day to settle various little matters which had been neglected during the fine weather. One of these was the aquarium. This kept them well employed; but when on the following morning they found the rain still falling, and the heavy, ragged clouds gave no promise of the sky clearing, Georgie's patience gave way.

'What can we do to-day?' he asked, dismally, as he traced the course of the drops on the window-panes with a damp finger. 'I'm tired of this rain. Why can't it stop now?'

'It won't stop just to please you,' said Alan, who was examining the quality of the water in his aquarium.

Georgie turned round angrily, but Marjorie came to the rescue hastily.

'The rain is nothing. We can amuse ourselves just as well in the house.

Can't we go over to Aunt Betty's, and play with Estelle, Miss Leigh?'

Georgie gave a bound of delight towards the door, and even Miss Leigh smiled, and got up quickly.

'A capital idea!' she said, rolling up her work. 'Go and put on your macintoshes, and we will run over as quickly as we can. We shall not get wet enough to hurt us.'

Alan, however, was not pleased. He wanted to change the water of his aquarium, and required Marjorie to help him. They had already put fresh water into two compartments, but the third was to have some of the rain, which they were collecting especially for the purpose. The small frogs, sticklebacks, and mud-lampreys were already enjoying themselves, and Alan was determined that the tadpoles and newts should be as happy. The newts were specially disliked by Georgie, and now, to make matters worse, Alan placed two of them on the floor. He intended to make them run races, regardless of the effect of their wet bodies on the carpet.

'They don't do any harm,' he a.s.serted, when Miss Leigh objected; 'not a bit of it. Water never hurts anything.'

'It is very unpleasant to have them on the floor, to say the least,'

returned the governess. 'And you know Georgie does not like them.'

'Then he needn't, the baby,' retorted Alan, with a withering glance at his brother.

'I don't mind frogs half so much,' explained Georgie, with a look of disgust at the newts struggling in Alan's grasp.

'What a little silly you are,' said Alan, placing the creatures on the ground, and a tiny red worm in front of them. 'What's the matter with you? Are you afraid they will bite?'

'It's those dreadful legs! And the nasty way they eat.'

'Come, we must go,' said Miss Leigh, with some irritation. 'Come along, Georgie. Marjorie, just see that you and he are well wrapped up, and have goloshes on. The paths will be like rivers.'

But Alan, who had moved to allow the governess to leave the room, objected strongly to Marjorie going with her.

'She's got to stay and help me change the water,' he declared.

Miss Leigh had grown impatient, however; and she insisted on Marjorie accompanying her and Georgie, and swept her out of the schoolroom with them, leaving Alan to overcome his wrath as best he could.

(_Continued on page 63._)

KINDNESS CURED HIM.

Some time ago a soldier at Winchester Barracks went before his colonel for punishment. He was the worst man in the regiment, in spite of his continual imprisonment in the guard-room.

The colonel, who was tired of sentencing the man, said to the sergeant: 'Here he is again. Guard-room, disgrace, solitary confinement--in fact, everything has been tried; but all to no purpose.'

'There is one thing you have not tried,' said the sergeant, 'and that is "forgiveness."'

The colonel had never thought of that, and when the soldier was brought in he asked him what he had to say to the charge.

'Nothing, sir,' was the reply, 'only I am sorry for what I have done!'