“You can wait a little, my dear.” Mrs. Ellerslie was pressing down the lid of the box, which seemed evidently determined not to close, and she looked certainly heated and tired.
Again I heard that naughty, impatient sigh; again the tender mother yielded to importunity; the round was cut out, and a minute’s peace secured.
“Where’s the string?” said Mrs. Ellerslie quickly, moving the box, lifting paper, glancing under the table. The lines on her forehead were plain enough now.
Lily was busily employed trying to force the bright golden thread though my little eye. I saw plainly that she could never succeed, and I felt exceedingly mortified; for what could be a higher object of ambition to a needle than to be threaded with gold? Lily saw that her mother was hunting and searching for the lost piece of string, but she never stirred to assist her.
“Where can it be? I’m sure that I brought some down! Where can I have laid the string?”
“Here it is!” cried Eddy, suddenly becoming aware that his mother wanted something which he had himself carried off. He had been quietly amusing himself in his corner, tying chairs, stool, sofa, and bell-rope together, with a liberal expenditure of string and a very large allowance of tight knots.
It was Mrs. Ellerslie’s turn to be impatient, as, hastily endeavouring to undo the child’s work, she exclaimed, “How on earth shall I unfasten all this?”
“It’s my harness, mamma, and these are my horses! Oh, are you vexed?” he added, looking up in her face, and reading, from her harassed expression, that he had again been guilty of causing her trouble. “I’m very sorry, mamma; I’ll never do so any more.”
Even in the midst of her hurry, the gentle mother stooped down to give him a kiss. She had another hurried run upstairs to bring more string, for she had not the spare time to undo all his knots; but no angry word passed her lips. She let Eddy stand beside her at the table, even trusted him to hold a match which she had lighted, and employed him to ring the bell.
“I am so glad that it is done at last!” cried the lady, sinking wearily on the sofa, as the box—it was barely packed in time—was carried by a servant from the room.