"We are going home, Sir," said Fanny, with some difficulty making the dog keep up, by occasionally scolding him, which he seemed not to mind one bit, but only walked the slower, and tugged the more obstinately at his chain.
"I have a little favour to ask of you," said he, "will you grant it?"
"What is it, Sir?" asked Fanny.
"Will you wait here a few minutes until my return?"
"Yes. But oh! please don't be long."
"Not three minutes," said he, as he disappeared.
"Fanny! Fanny! are you coming?" called Edith, returning; "we are late, it is nearly four o'clock."
"I cannot come," said Fanny, "I have promised to wait for him," with which unsatisfactory reply, Edith went on and left her.
And Fanny did wait, some—instead of three—ten minutes, until her little feet ached, and her hands were blue with the cold, and her patience, as well as Carlo's, was well-nigh exhausted, he evincing his annoyance by sundry sharp barks and jumping up with his fore paws on her dress. At last, her patience quite worn out, Fanny walked round to the front of the house, where, just as she reached the terrace, she met Mr. Vavasour.
"There," said he, placing a Camellia in her hand, "hold it as carefully as you can, for it is not fresh gathered, and may fall to pieces, and take it very gently to your governess."