“And have you no apologies to make, sir? Aren’t you sorry you were so mischievous, and broke the top of my vinery?”
“Yes; I’m very sorry, sir; but it was that old chap’s fault. He made me run and slip. I say, what would he have done if he had caught me?”
“Punished you, or brought you in to me, sir. Now, then, I’ve been talking about sending you back to the workhouse. You are too mischievous for me.”
“Send me back!”
“Yes, of course. I want a boy who will be good.”
“Well, I will.”
“So you said before, but you are not good. You are about as mischievous a young rascal as I ever saw in my life.”
“Yes, sir; that’s what Mr Sibery used to say,” replied the boy quietly. “I don’t want to be.”
“Then why are you, sir?”
The boy shook his head, and looked up at the doctor thoughtfully.