So Mott led off poor weeping Carrots, and all the way upstairs he kept sobbing to himself, "I never touched nurse's sovereigns. I never did. I didn't know she had any sovereigns."
"Hold your tongue," said Mott; "what is the use of telling more stories about it?"
"I didn't tell stories. I said I hided the sixpenny my own self, but I never touched nurse's sovereigns; I never did."
"I believe you're more than half an idiot," said Mott, angry and yet sorry—angry with himself, too, somehow.
Floss, left alone with her father, ventured on another appeal.
"You won't whip Carrots till mamma comes in, will you, papa?" she said softly.
"Why not? Do you think I want her to help me to whip him?" said Captain Desart.
"Oh no—but—I think perhaps mamma would understand better how it was, for, oh papa, dear, Carrots isn't a naughty boy; he never, never tells stories."
"Well, we'll see," replied her father; "and in the meantime it will do him no harm to think things over by himself in my dressing-room for a little."
"Oh, poor Carrots!" murmured Floss to herself; "it'll be getting dark, and he's all alone. I wish mamma would come in!"