Kitty burst into a howl of sympathy. To be sent to bed was the most terrible punishment known to the little Boltons.
‘Oh, Jane, give him just one more trial,’ she wailed. ‘He’ll never do it again—w-will you, Micky?’
‘Never mind, Kitty,’ said Micky, assuming an air of saintly resignation which maddened Jane. ‘I’ll try to bear it, and she’ll be sorry one day.’
‘Bear it or not, you’ll come to bed this instant!’ said Jane, seizing hold of his sailor-collar and marching him off.
Just as they reached the door into the kitchen, she paused to say to Alice: ‘You’d better hang them blankets upon the line. I’ll not have them in the house again till they have been well washed, after being stuffed up with that dirty dog.’
‘There’s many a Christian been a longer time without a bath than Punch,’ remarked Cook; whereupon Micky turned his head and gave Emmeline as deliberate a wink as Jane allowed him time for. Luckily neither Jane nor Cook seemed to notice the wink, or if they did, they merely took it for one more sign of the outrageous ‘mischiefulness,’ which was supposed to account for the blankets being found in the kennel at all.
Emmeline began to breathe freely again when once Jane and Micky had disappeared into the house. It had been a dreadful five minutes, but they seemed to have come out of the scrape better than could have been expected.