The little beggar wagged his head solemnly. "I want to read well," he stated gravely. "I want to read very well; then I shall read big books like my Uncle Godfrey."
"You are a good little boy," she said. "I am very pleased with the pains my little Chris is taking."
A suspicion crossed my mind. Was he indulging in one of the tricks of which Briggs had forewarned Granny?
"Have you ever read this before, Chris?" I asked.
"Oh, yes; often and often!" he replied, with the utmost candour.
"Oh, my darling, why did you ask me to let you read it now?" Granny said, looking grieved.
"'Cause I read it so well," he explained, without exhibiting any proper shame.
"Ah! but you might have known Granny didn't want an old lesson," she said gravely. "It wasn't quite right; was it, Miss Baggerley?"
"No; it wasn't fair," I assented.
Chris hung his head. "I didn't mean not to be fair," he said, with touching contrition.