“Are you sorry?”
“I'm sorry that I told a lie, but I'm not sorry I called Nurse a beastly woman.”
“Jeremy!”
“No, I'm not. She is a beastly woman.”
Mr. Cole was always at a loss when anyone defied him, even though it were only a small boy of eight. He took refuge now in his ecclesiastical and parental authority.
“I'm very distressed—very distressed indeed. I hope that punishment, Jeremy, will show you how wrong you have been. I'm afraid you cannot come with us to the Pantomime to-night.”
At that judgement a quiver for an instant held Jeremy's face, turning it, for that moment, into something shapeless and old. His heart had given a wild leap of terror and dismay. But he showed no further sign. He simply stood there waiting.
Mr. Cole was baffled, as he always was by Jeremy's moods, so he continued:
“And until you've apologised to Nurse for your rudeness you must remain by yourself. I shall forbid your sisters to speak to you. Mary and Helen, you are not to speak to your brother until he has apologised to Nurse.”
“Yes, Father,” said Helen