“Not very naughty—if you tell me. Did you leave it there?”
Charlotte’s lip trembled. “I putted it to bed in the curtain by a mousehole, and it’s all gone, naughty mousie.”
“Go and see, Renata, if there’s a hole there.”
“Please,” said Charlotte gravely.
“Please what?”
“Please go and see.”
Aymer laughed. “I beg your pardon, Renata. Please will you mind looking for the mousehole?”
“I tan’t see the mousehole,” put in Charlotte, “I only ’tend it.”
But Renata looked all the same. There was no mousehole and no golden penny. 78
“It is all right,” explained Aymer in answer to his sister-in-law’s troubled look. “I know all about it. Don’t worry your little head. We will give Charlotte another golden penny, or a silver one. Only,” he added, regarding his small niece severely, “Charlotte must not touch anyone’s pennies again, not mummy’s or Uncle Aymer’s, or anyone’s. It is not dreadfully naughty this time, but it would be next time—dreadfully naughty.”