"Auntie, dear, don't scold poor Bunny, for she is very sorry she was naughty, and she begged Sophie's pardon before we came down."
"Well, I am glad to hear that, Mervyn," said Mrs. Dashwood, "and I hope Bunny is sorry; but I don't think she should be allowed to stay up to see the fireworks, she cannot expect it."
"Why, mama, what is all this about?" said Mr. Dashwood, coming over and putting his arm round his little daughter. "Why are you scolding poor Bunny so much?"
"Because I was naughty, papa," said Bunny, creeping up very close to him. "But I am very sorry, and I promise to be good."
"Oh, well, don't scold her any more, dear," said her papa, stroking the little golden head, "she can't do more than promise to be a good child."
"And do forgive her, and let her stay up to see the fireworks," whispered Mervyn, "it would be such fun!"
"What is that you are saying, Mervyn? What dreadful plot are you hatching over there?" cried Mr. Dashwood, "why, the fireworks don't go off until nine, and your bedtime is at half-past seven, isn't it?"
"Yes, I know it is, uncle, but we're not a bit sleepy, and we never saw any fireworks, and this is the last gala night before we leave Scarborough, and—"
"My dear Mervyn, what a string of reasons!" cried his uncle laughing; "after such a list, I think we must surely grant your request. That is, if mama will forgive this poor culprit, and allow her to stay up."
"Well, as she is sorry, and as Mervyn says it is the last night, perhaps—"