“Well, Master Oscar, I hope you’ve had your [p72] swing,” said the housekeeper, meeting him in the passage.
“Yes, I have; and now I am going at once to make it straight with the doctor,” he peeped into the kitchen to say to Inna. “That’s a step in the right direction, you must confess;” and was gone.
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CHAPTER VI.
INNA’S FIRSTFRUITS—ON THE TOR.
The going in to make confession of his neglect of his lessons by Oscar, that night, was like a very firstfruits to loving little Inna, in her endeavour to influence this big, strong, wilful cousin for good. Nay, she shamed him into industry and painstaking by her own application to studies, going to and from the Owl’s Nest, “like clockwork, you little grinder!” as the boy expressed it, making his awkward admission to her on Christmas Eve, the two wreathing the house with holly and evergreens. This was something which Carlo and Smut the black cat thought it their duty to look into, to judge from the way they pryingly inspected the monster heap of greenery in the wide passage, where the boy and girl worked, making Inna laugh and laugh again, till her uncle peeped out of his study door to inquire what was the matter.
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“I’m only laughing at Carlo and Smut, uncle,” was her shamefaced reply.
“Ah! laugh and grow fat.” With this, he went in and shut the door.
“Not at all a speech to address to a lady,” remarked Mr. Barlow, crossing the hall at the moment. “But Christmas is the time for liberties of all sorts and unheard-of requests—have you any of the latter, fair lady?” and the surgeon halted behind her.
“I have one little wish, and ’tis about uncle and his den,” ventured Inna, blushing a little.
“Well, suppose you tell me, and let me be the go-between—no enviable part to play, remember, to put a finger in anybody’s pie, much more in that of a doctor and a young lady combined.”