It happened that on the morning after Christmas-day, Edward and Ellen were quite alone in the school room; the former was in one of his most impatient moods, for at his own request, his uncle was to examine him in a favorite study, and one of the necessary books was wanting. He had read it a few evenings previous, but something had crossed him, and in a desperate passion he had flung the book from him, and where it fell he neither knew nor cared. Caroline and Emmeline had already gone on an expedition to some poor people, with their mother; Ellen had asked and received permission to put some seeds in her little garden, Percy having kindly promised to show her where, and to do some harder work in it for her. He was, however, still engaged with his father, and would be, he had told her, for perhaps an hour longer, but he would be sure to come to her then; and, to employ the interval, she had intended to work hard at a purse she was making for him. Edward, however, entirely engrossed her, and for nearly half an hour they hunted in every nook and corner of the room, at length—
"I see it! I see it! Edward," Ellen exclaimed, adding, however, in a very desponding tone, "but what shall we do? we can not get it."
"Why not?" answered Edward, impatiently; "where is it, Ellen?"
"Behind that stand of flowers," she replied, pointing to one that filled a corner of the room and which, though it was winter, was filled with some beautiful flowering geraniums of all colors, and some few rare myrtles in full flower.
"There!" said Edward joyfully; "Oh, that is very easily moved—I shall get it in a minute."
"But you know aunt Emmeline desired us not to touch it," implored Ellen, clinging to his arm; "and the flowers are almost all Caroline's. Dear Edward—pray do not move it."
"Stuff and nonsense, Ellen! How is aunt to know any thing about it? and what do I care about the flowers being Caroline's; they may be whose they like, but they shall not prevent my getting my book."
"But it will be disobeying aunt. Edward—pray, pray, don't; you know how displeased she was with Emmeline last week for a much more trifling disobedience than this will be. And if any thing should happen to the flowers, Caroline will be so angry."
"And what do I care for Caroline's anger," retorted Edward impatiently; "My uncle's indeed is something to care about, and if I don't get my book and go to him directly, I shall have it. I don't like to disobey aunt, but in this case there is no help for it. I am sure I can reach it without doing any harm; besides, I must get my book—I can not do without it."
"Then only wait till aunt comes home, or at least let me ask uncle if we may move it, dear Edward; do let me go—I will not be a minute."