"There, that will do," said he, holding the bridle. "So you found it
poor fun being My Lady, and all that."
"Oh! it was awful, Charlie! You little know, in your peaceful
retirement, what are the miseries of the great."
"Come, Kate, don't talk bosh out of your books. What did they do to
you? They didn't lick you, did they?"
"No, no; nonsense," said Kate, rather affronted; "but they wanted to
make me forget all that I cared for, and they really did shut me up
because I said I would not write a falsehood to please them! They
did, Charlie!" and her eyes shone.
"Well, I always knew they must be a couple of horrid old owls," began
Charlie.
"Oh! I didn't mean Aunt Jane," said Kate, feeling a little
compunction. "Ah!" with a start and scream, "who is coming?" as she
heard steps behind them.
"You little donkey, you'll be off! Who should it be but Armyn?"
For Armyn generally overtook his brother on a Saturday, and walked
home with him for the Sunday.
Charles hailed him with a loud "Hollo, Armyn! What d'ye think I've
got here?"
"Kate! Why, how d'ye do! Why, they never told me you were coming to
see us."
"They didn't know," whispered Kate.
"She's run away, like a jolly brick!" said Charlie, patting the pony
vehemently as he made this most inappropriate comparison.
"Run away! You don't mean it!" cried Armyn, standing still and
aghast, so much shocked that her elevation turned into shame; and
Charles answered for her -
"Yes, to be sure she did, when they locked her up because she
wouldn't tell lies to please them.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181