'But, Bernard, you must have known you ought not. Did you get into debt?'
'Ay, just for a few shillings; and the brute threatened me so that I just asked Lance—'
'Was he such a dangerous dog? O Bear!'
'No, no—the man that kept him. I thought Lance would tackle him without making a row.'
'And did he?'
'Ay. He said he hadn't got a penny, and he kept me waiting ever so long; but I fancy he got it from Harewood. He might as well have let me keep Stingo!'
Cherry's views of the relations between Lance and Bernard had begun to adjust themselves, and she began to reason on the impropriety of keeping the dog; but she soon perceived that this was only ranging herself on the side of the enemy, and exciting the obduracy of her favourite, who was determined to be a victim. In truth, Bernard was not repentant enough to treat her with confidence, and his world was so entirely beyond her knowledge, that she did not possess the threads that would have led to it. All that she did perceive was, that much of Bernard's irritation was at the endeavour to keep him out of mischief, and that her own gentle persuasions were almost as distasteful as Lance's jests. She sat on, arguing, talking, entreating, till it had long been quite dark; and Wilmet at last came up to say that she must not stay any longer in the cold, and to ask Bernard whether he would say he was sorry.
'I didn't want her to come here bothering,' was Bernard's grateful remark.
'Well, I advise you to take care you are in a better mood before Felix comes,' said Wilmet.—'Come, Cherry, it is not safe for you to go down alone.'
Cherry could only entreat, 'Do, Bear, do,' and try to kiss the averted cheek.