Naughty Miss Bunny Part 17

"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, dear children, 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 pa.s.sage 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 s.p.a.ce 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's face 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's Mount 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Chapter decoration.]

CHAPTER XIII.

QUIET TIMES.

It is to be hoped that you see some improvement in Bunny's behaviour since you first made her acquaintance, though she was very naughty on the day when the poor thrush was killed.

At all events she had been trying to be good, and when she failed, or forgot her good resolutions she was so willing to confess her faults, and was so truly sorry for them, that Miss Kerr and Mama, and even Sophie, were always ready to forgive her. Miss Kerr had quite won Bunny's heart by her constant love and gentleness, so that the child could not bear to give her pain. This made Bunny more thoughtful, and she soon learned to check her outbreaks of temper and to keep out of mischief.

Mervyn, who was growing tall and strong, was very much in earnest when he had promised to try to be docile and obedient. He did not forget that should he meet his dear mother and father in London they would ask him whether he had kept his word, and he would not have told them a falsehood even if he had been ever so naughty, for he was a truthful boy, and not at all a coward.

Mervyn often helped Bunny to remember her promises too; and it seemed as though after the night when they had seen the display of fireworks they had both made up their minds to go on steadily with their lessons every morning. Miss Kerr was delighted, and Sophie had really very little to do, for all the afternoon, and sometimes in the evening also, they were out on the sands, or on the hills, or seated in the garden. The reason of this was, that as Mr. Dashwood had given them notice that the holiday was coming to an end, they had implored their friend Frank Collins to come often to see them, and as he loved Mervyn and could talk to him about his dear father and mother, and listen to his descriptions of life in Madras and Calcutta, he used to come every day to take the children out.

Of this Mr. Dashwood was very glad, for he was pleased that such a nice manly boy as Frank should give up so much time to these two young ones, and used to laugh at Miss Kerr and tell her that they learnt more from their young tutor Frank Collins than they did from their governess. Miss Kerr often made one of the party when they went out together and she used to like to listen to Frank too. He had been to a large school, and was now only waiting for his parents to return from India before going to another. He had read a great many books, and could remember several stories and accounts of voyages and discoveries.

The children would sit under a tree or inside an old boat on the beach and listen to him as he told them of the adventures of sailors and travellers; or sometimes they went with him for a ramble in the country, and he could show them the different kinds of trees and wild flowers, and point out where the various birds built their nests.

Mervyn was quite surprised one day when a lark sprang suddenly from a field of long gra.s.s and went soaring up and up in the clear sunshine till it looked only like a speck, and at last could scarcely be seen, but yet all the time kept trilling and singing its beautiful song.

As it sung it floated away to some distance from the place from which it rose, and then suddenly it seemed to sink from the air and to drop amidst the gra.s.s again.

"Wherever has it gone to?" said Bunny; "there are no trees here, and where can its nest be?"

"Its nest is on the ground, in the long gra.s.s of the field," said Frank.

"Oh then, it has just dropped into it," cried Mervyn; "couldn't we go and see?"

"You wouldn't find it except you could trace the way to the spot where the bird first rose," said Frank. "Directly the artful fellow heard us coming he sprang out and started his song so that he might lead us away from the spot where the nest is, and now he has dropped in the gra.s.s a long way off to lead us still further away."