Dinner came to an end, the servants and Prance withdrew, and the children were left to take dessert with their mamma. Mrs. St. John was drinking port wine then and cracking walnuts, of which fruit she was very fond. By-and-by, when the boys grew tired of sitting, they slid off their chairs, and began to look out for some amusement. Had Mrs. St. John been wise, she would have rung the nursery-bell then, and sent them to the nursery, where they might play at leisure; but she was absorbed with her walnuts and port wine, and did nothing of the sort. After capering about for a short time, George went up to Benja.
"Let me have the watch on now," he began.
"No," said Benja, "you'll break it."
"Me shan't break it," lisped Georgy.
"I'm afraid," returned Benja, rather undecidedly. "Honour said you would."
"Mamma, Benja won't let me have his watch!"
"Don't ask him, my darling," said Mrs. St. John, her mother's heart more resentful at the refusal than Georgy's was, for the conversation had penetrated to her senses. "I will buy you a better one than that."
"But me want that now," retorted resolutely Master George, who had a will of his own. "Me won't break it, Benja."
Benja possessed one of the kindest hearts beating. He looked at his watch, thinking he should not like it to be broken, and then he looked at Georgy, who stood turning up his pretty face, eagerly protesting he would take care of it. In another moment, Benja had hung the watch round the younger one's neck.
Gratification enough for the time. Georgy paraded up and down the room, the watch hanging before him on his velvet tunic, as if the walls were alive with eyes, and he was challenging their admiration. Presently he stood still, took off the watch, and began to open it.