"No," replied Shelah, speaking indistinctly and with difficulty, on account of the sticky lump which she was serenely sucking. "I've put what's left in that thing," and the brown-smeared, thick-tipped finger pointed to Miss Petty's new yellow satin workbag.
"Oh! You mischievous monkey; you—you—" And poor Miss Petty made a dash at the bag, which Shelah did not surrender without a struggle. Miss Petty then opened it, and found reels of cotton, bodkin, needle-case, scissors, and thimble, all sticking together in most unlovely union, her exploration only ending in her soiling her own fingers, and utterly losing her temper. The guardian caught hold of Lammikin by the shoulders and gave her a hearty shake, which vigorous action produced a loud roar which resounded over the ship.
This was the first, but was not to be the last struggle between the guardian and her Lammikin charge.
[CHAPTER II.]
CONTRASTS.
ROBIN, after a brief rapid striding up and down deck, returned to the side of his brother. The youth was flushed and excited.
"Harold, if that woman tack herself on to us during all the voyage, what shall we do?" he exclaimed.
"Bear and forbear," was the quiet reply.
"That's easy enough for a calm, self-possessed, sensible fellow like you, but not so for me!" cried Robin. "Of all things on earth, what I most dislike is an elderly butterfly, with dyed hair, and a mischief-making tongue."
"A species unknown to entomology," observed Harold.