Meade L. T. - The Children of Wilton Chase стр 16.

In short Susy became fascinated by the miniature; she longed to possess it. With the longing came the temptation. Why should she not take it? The theft, if it could be called by such an ugly name, could never be traced to her. Not a soul in the place would ever know that she had been shut up in Miss Nelson's room. Only Ermengarde would know, and Ermie would not dare to tell.

Susy looked and longed and coveted. She thought of the pleasure this picture would give her in her own little attic-room at home. How she would gaze at it, and compare her face with the face of the old-fashioned child. Susy hated Miss Nelson, and if that good lady valued the picture, she would be only

the more anxious to deprive her of it.

Miss Nelson had often and often snubbed Susy; she had also been cruel to Ermengarde. Susy could avenge Ermie as well as herself, if she took away the miniature.

Susan was not the child long to withstand any sudden keen desire. She stretched up her hand, lifted the little miniature from its hook on the wall, and slipped it into the pocket of her pink frock.

Its place looked empty and deserted. Susy did not want its loss to be discovered too soon. She looked around her, saw another miniature on the mantelpiece; without waiting even to look at it, she hung it in the place where the child's picture had been, and then, well pleased, turned to go. First of all, however, she performed an action which she thought particularly clever and praiseworthy.

Poor Ermengarde had left the cupboard open when she rushed from the room, but Susy took the precaution to lock it, and taking out the key, threw it carelessly on the floor behind a chair. Then, satisfied that she had done her best both for Ermie and herself, she left Miss Nelson's room, running fearlessly down the now deserted back-stairs, and out into the courtyard.

She went round to the laurel bush behind which she had concealed her basket of eggs, picked it up, delivered its contents to the cook, and ran home singing a gay song.

Her mother remarked on Susy's long absence, but when the little girl said she had been tempted to linger in the meadows, Mrs. Collins did not question her any further. She hastened to prepare an extra good tea for her darling, for of course Susy's dinner with Ermengarde could not be mentioned.

Meanwhile all went merrily in the hay-field. Eric excelled himself in his rare power of story-telling. Basil and Ermie sat side by side, and whispered together. Miss Nelson had seldom seen a softer look on her elder pupil's face than now. She determined that Basil and his sister should be together as much as possible during the holidays.

Presently the little ones went home, and by and by the elder children followed their example. Miss Nelson saw that Marjorie was tired that Ermie, too, looked pale and she made them both go to bed early.

It was rather late when the governess returned to the schoolroom. She only went there to fetch one of her pupils' exercise-books, but seeing Basil reading on one of the sofas, she stopped to talk to him. She was a very direct person, and in conversation she always went straight to the point.

"It is a great comfort to me to have you at home, Basil," she said.

Basil looked up at her. Then he dropped his book and started to his feet.

"Won't you sit down?" he said politely.

"No, I am going into my own room directly. I repeat that I am glad you are at home, Basil. There was a talk of your going north instead, was there not?"

"Yes. Uncle Charlie wanted me to fish with him."

"It is on Ermengarde's account that I am glad," pursued the governess.

Basil nodded.

"I came back on account of Ermie," he said. Then he colored, and added quickly, "But I like being at home best."

"Yes, my dear boy, I understand. You are unselfish. You and Marjorie are remarkably unselfish. Basil, you have a great influence over your eldest sister; oh yes, I can see. In many respects Ermengarde is a difficult child; I want you to use your influence well, and Will you come into my room, Basil?"

Basil picked up his book. Of course he would go. He did not want to; he thought it was rather fudge talking about his influence; and as to his being unselfish, he liked his own way as well as any one else. Had he not almost blubbered about not going to Scotland, and although he had thought of Ermie, still he had given up his desires with a pang. He hated Miss Nelson to think better of him than he deserved, but he did not know how to explain himself, and he followed her in rather a limp fashion into her private sitting-room.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, when he got there, "what a tiny room! Do they put you off with this? Oh, I say, I call it a shame!"

Miss Nelson loved her private sitting-room, and hated to hear it abused. She also particularly disliked the expression with which Basil had commenced his speech.

"I don't wish to interfere, my dear boy, but those words you will excuse me I am shocked."

"Do you mean 'by Jove'?"

"Yes; don't repeat the expression. It sounds like a calling upon false gods."