How Poppet’s eyes shone, albeit the tears were not dry! how her lips smiled and quivered! and how the glad, warm colour rushed all over her little, sweet face! Not a word of thanks she said, and he would not have had it; only she clung very tightly to his arm for a minute, and hid her face. When he saw it, he felt he had had more than thanks.
And that was not all he did. He took her back with him to the schoolroom, and walked up to the raised platform, and held her hand all the time.
“Boys,” he said, in his clear, far-carrying voice, “I have reason to believe that John Woolcot is not guilty of the theft that you have all heard of. I wish you all to give him the benefit of the doubt, [87] ]since he is not here to clear himself. For my part, I believe him innocent.”
How the boys cheered! It was not that Bunty was a special favourite, though he had his own friends; but they felt it was expected of them, and it was another break in the monotony to be able to do so. Besides, they felt a vague pity and admiration for the little girl standing there, with such a smiling, tear-wet face.
After that Mr. Burnham took her all the way home to Misrule himself. Meg and Nellie went into the drawing-room to see him, and Poppet slipped away. He told them what the child had done, praised her high courage and simple faith. “If,” he said, as he took his leave an hour later,—“if all my boys had such sisters as little Poppet is, my school would be a better place, and later, the world.”
[88]
]CHAPTER VIII.
ONE PARTICULAR EVENING.
“O world, as God has made it! All is beauty,
And knowing this is love, and love is duty.”
It was Peter who first noticed Meg’s face one particular evening. He and Poppet were doing, or making a pretence of doing, preparation for the next day, and Nellie was reading a novel in the only armchair the nursery held.
Meg came in at nine o’clock—nearly an hour past the usual time to send the little ones to bed. “Thust look at Meg’th fathe!” Peter said, and rounded his eyes at her. Of course every one looked instantly.