Both boys, now engaged in a lively tussle, stopped pulling each other’s hair, and sat up. Grace Tupper sat still and cried on.
“He wouldn’t let me come in and see it all,” cried Elyot with flashing eyes.
“No, he wouldn’t, mummy,” said Barby, shaking her head.
“And Miss Grace was going to draw ’em for me,” screamed King; “and they pushed and scrouged dreadfully.”
“What?” said Polly. “Where did you learn that word, King?”
“Oh, dear, dear!” wailed Grace. “I’m afraid I’m to blame, dear Mrs. King; but I said I’d draw him some bears—I wanted to help; and now I’ve only made you trouble.”
“Oh, no, Grace dear!” said Polly gently, “you haven’t made any trouble. It was very nice and kind of you to offer to do that.”
She had such a sorrowful look in her face as she sat down, that the boys crept near, and hung their heads.
“I—I—didn’t mean to,” said King, trying not to whimper, “sister Polly, I really didn’t.” And he was quite near now; but Polly didn’t look at him nor stir.
“Please don’t look like that, mamma,” begged Elyot, feeling cold creeps down his back, “I never’ll do so again.”