But the gleeful sparkle that usually came into Robin's eyes when any pleasure was in store for Corrie was lacking now; and his old friend noticed it, wondering what was wrong, as the boy answered hurriedly—
"Oh, thank you! How glad she will be Master is very good."
How he wished old Jonathan would not walk down with him to the lodge. What excuse could he possibly find to go back and fetch the basket? There was none; and it seemed to get more and more hopeless as they walked down the avenue.
"There! Take care of the buds, my boy. Carry it steadily; the little lass will love to see them opening every day. Good-night, and God bless you!"
Robin carried the pot down the road a little way, until out of sight of the lodge; then, setting it down dose to the hedge, where it would be hidden by a tree, he climbed a fence, and by a short cut across fields and meadows soon found himself on the back premises of Oaklands. Like a thief, he went stealthily to the outhouse named by cook, snatched up the basket, and ran off again. He had to cross part of the avenue, and while doing so observed his master coming up on horseback, with Miss Clarice on her little white pony cantering by his side.
A dive! A leap! And he was crouching down behind a tree, where he remained in hiding until the riders had passed. He had never before felt ashamed to be found anywhere on the premises of Oaklands. Well, it would only be for this once! Cook would probably never want him to do it again; then it would be all right.
Robin felt greatly relieved when he had rid himself of the basket in Andover Street; but to go there he had to deviate considerably from his homeward route, so that he was later than usual.
"What has kept you, my son? You are a good hour behind time."
"There was some extra work to do, mother; we did not leave work punctually this evening."
Now this excuse was true to a certain extent, though the working hours had not been exceeded beyond ten minutes or a quarter of an hour. Yet Robin felt he had told a lie. Why should his mother have asked that question to-night? She so seldom seemed to notice the hour he got in. But further questioning was cut short by Corrie's exclamations of delight over her rose tree, and in gladness of heart for her poor sick child, Mrs. Campbell forgot all else.