I said nothing, for I knew that her tears were a relief to her overwrought feelings. So for a time there was silence, which was at length broken by the little beggar, who, looking at her with pity mingled with curiosity, remarked in a hushed voice:
"I b'lieve my Granny is crying!"
"And who do you think has made her cry?" suddenly asked a severe voice, and turning round somewhat apprehensively, the little beggar saw Uncle Godfrey—who, unperceived and unheard, had crossed the lawn—confronting him in righteous indignation.
"I say, who do you think has made her cry?" he reiterated, as Granny threw him an imploring glance as if to beg mercy for the offender. "I have just heard something of your last piece of disobedience from your friend the sergeant," he continued sternly. "Fortunately for me I met him not two minutes ago, and so was saved a useless drive into Marston on your account. Now I should like to hear some explanation of your conduct."
He looked so very tall and inflexible as he towered above the little beggar, and the little beggar looked so very small and abject as he stood before him, that my heart was stirred with pity for the diminutive transgressor in spite of his misdeeds.
"Well, answer," Uncle Godfrey said peremptorily. "What is the meaning of your behaviour, sir?"
"I w—w—went to be a s—s—soldier," stammered Chris, winking his eyes to keep back his tears, and grasping hold of Granny's hand as if for protection.
"What did I tell you this morning?"
"I forget," answered the little beggar tremblingly.
"Then think," his uncle said; whilst Granny said pleadingly: