"Nonsense, child!" said Mrs. Rayburn, catching him as he broke away from Frank and ran towards the door. "You've got to stay here. Come along to my room and watch the cart; you can see it from the window there."
When the cart had passed the last turn in the long road through the park at which it could be seen, Fred set up another roar. Mrs. Rayburn lifted him up, and went to where her spacious easy-chair stood, where she sat down.
"Stop that, Fred. Come here, Frank. Now, listen to me, both of you. You are to stay here for a time, and if you're good, you'll have a pleasant time of it. And I dare say you will be good, after a time, but you're both just a bit spoiled, because your mother is too soft in her ways with you. Now, I'm not like her."
"No, grandma," said Frank, with conviction.
"And if you're naughty or noisy or mischievous or troublesome in any way, I'll give you a right good whipping. If you'll be good, you'll find yourself very well off. And when you've had a whipping or two, I've no doubt I shall have no more trouble with you. Come, now, get your hats, and I'll show you a place where you may run about and play."
She took them out into the paved court, and across to a small iron gate, and, when she had unlocked and opened this gate, Frank cried out with surprise and delight—
"Oh, muddie, muddie, if you could just see this!"
On hearing this imprudent mention of "muddie," Fred began to roar; but he received a very prompt cuff on the side of his curly head, and ceased, staring hard at grandma.
To confess the truth, Fred had been quite spoiled by being the pet and plaything of the school he attended with Frank—and, indeed, of the house where his mother lodged also. He was a very handsome child, being like his father, and he was also a self-willed little monkey, who liked his own way, and was but little used to contradiction. Seeing "muddie" but for a short time each day, he was always very happy and tolerably good with her, so that poor Janet had little idea that her son had learned to get his own way—entirely with Frank, and to a great extent with others—by howling loudly when not pleased. Thus I may say that I do not altogether grudge him a little discipline, though a box on the ears is not a safe way to apply it.
Frank took his brother's hand, and drew him through the little gate into a large, old-fashioned garden, primly and stiffly laid out, and full of various flowers, though there was nothing very fine or rare. But to a child a flower is a flower, and there were walks to run up and down, little thickets of evergreen to explore, and, in the middle, a marble basin full of gold-fish. In fact, it was a Paradise, and in this Paradise, these two little Adams were to be left to their own devices.