"But they're of a very wicked breed," shouted Eric. "They're worse than my ferret Shark. They are young bloodhounds. Don't you deny it, Basil. You know you gave a sov. for them to Dandy Macjones."
"But they are quite harmless at present," said Basil. "There are only two; they haven't arrived yet. They'll come by post, or train, or something to-morrow. When they do come, I'll promise to be careful."
"Yes. Basil, I believe you are a boy to be trusted.—Eric!"
"What is it, ma'am?"
Eric put on a comical face, which set all the nursery children laughing.
"Stand up, Eric. While you are at home, at least whenever you are in the schoolroom—in fact, I may say always—you have got to yield to my authority."
"Thank you, ma'am. I didn't know it, ma'am."
Eric pulled his forelock after the fashion of a charity school-boy. The nursery children clapped their hands with delight, and a wave of color swept over Miss Nelson's face.
"I say, shut up and be respectful," growled Basil.
Eric glanced at his brother. His whole funny face became rigid except his eyes, which still danced with mirth. He folded his hands on his breast, and said in a demure, mincing tone, "I beg your pardon, Miss Nelson."