My young master, breathing painfully, sat down on a box, and put his hand to his side.
Suddenly there was a low cry from above, then a voice reading—"This chocolate egg is for my kind Cousin Cassowary."
"Oh! Oh!" said the girl coming down the ladder like a cat, and standing before Dallas. "Why didn't I look before I leaped?"
Dallas shook his head. "Lots of people don't, Cassowary."
"Oh! boy, boy," she cried, "I didn't dream you were giving me your lovely eggs, and now they're all smashed and my nuts have rolled in corners and I haven't anything. What an idiot I am!"
Dallas pressed his lips together. He was not going to tell her that she was to have only one of the eggs. However, she glanced at the paper in her hand and said, "Why you say 'egg'—for whom were the others?"
"Bolshy and Bingi."
"I'll have to give them something," she said. "Oh! what a wicked girl I am. I should not have been so quick—and your poor nose is bleeding again. Here, take my handkerchief. I don't know what Mother will say."
"Will you have to tell her?" asked Dallas in a choked voice.
Oh! how afraid I was that he would persuade her to keep the affair a secret. I wanted her punished. She had been too swift. She was too sure of herself anyway for a girl her age.