"Tut, tut!" said Granny, as she heard this charge made against Cook.
By her expression, it was plain to see that she would have liked to say more had she been in full possession of her voice. Failing that, however, she was obliged to content herself with "Tut, tut!" and a gentle frown.
"Come, Chris," I said laughing, "we'll leave Granny in peace now and go and play in the library, or I will tell you a story. Take your 'friend', the man of paste, with you, and see if Jack would like to eat him."
"What shall we do?" asked Chris, slipping his hand into mine as we left the drawing-room.
"Would you like a story?" I asked.
"No, thank you; I don't want a story now, I think," he answered, with some caprice. He thought a moment or two, then exclaimed: "I know! we'll paint. I'll get the new paint-box Granny has given me, and a picture-paper, and we'll make lovely pictures."
"Very well," I said, not dissatisfied with this arrangement, which I hoped would only require on my part advice from time to time, or admiration, as required.
Taking a book, therefore, I sat down in an easy-chair near the writing-table, where Chris, having fetched his paint-box, settled himself, labouring for a time silently and earnestly at his paintings.
Presently he asked:
"What colour shall I make this horse? Shall I make him black?"