He cast a supercilious glance about him.
When the child had reached this point in his disclosures Isabelle rose rather hurriedly and left the room by the same door which had covered Bonny’s exit.
“Well, my boy. If you have a valid reason for your absence we will have to see about getting you excused. But there has been too much of this truanting, and we have resolved to put a stop to it. We have not quite the authority which the public school teachers have, else we should not be so troubled. An examination for promotion is to be held next week, and I felt that Robert had no time to lose if he wished to go forward with his class. Besides, he had promised to assist me a little in preparing for an evening entertainment in aid of the school, and I depended on him. He was to have been a little ‘Red Cross Knight,’ but owing to his absence I was obliged to give his place to another boy.”
Five minutes later both the Professor and Mr. Benton had departed, and Bonny immediately reappeared. “Mother! don’t look at me so grieved. I am bad, I know; as bad as I can be. But I don’t mean it, and I really felt as if I were doing something very praiseworthy when I set out on my adventures this morning. I was in quite a glow of self-righteousness. I was, indeed!”
“How about the glow now, my child?” asked the mother, gently stroking the flushed face resting on her knee.
“It’s gone. But—but this remains;” and she counted out the contents of her little purse, which amounted to about ten dollars. “That isn’t so very bad, though it’s about one fourth of what I anticipated bringing home. As it is, nine dollars of this came from one person.”
“Beatrice! Not from Mr. Brook, I hope!”
“No, Motherkin. But will you forgive me? I’ll never do so again. I promise you. And I’ve so much to tell. I can’t wait till I tell it, yet it doesn’t come easy with that sort of a wall of displeasure and sorrow between us. Please take your bad girl back, down deep into the happy place in your heart again, Mother darling! I hate to feel unhappy! I do, awfully!”
Her whimsical entreaty covered a regret so sincere that Mrs. Beckwith understood, and stooping kissed very tenderly the tumbled curls of her energetic daughter. There was a trace of tears in her own eyes as she lifted her head, but there was no further word of blame or repentance between them; yet Beatrice never forgot that hour, nor did she ever again test any scheme, no matter how brilliant its promise, without taking her mother into confidence first.
“Well, then, that’s settled and done with. I feel better, very much better. And Robert is not to be blamed at all. Nor am I, even, for part of my badness. I forgot that. Mr. Brook has part of the blame. He claims it, and I’m sure I’m willing he should enjoy it.”