"Rubbish," said Nora.
They kept their own counsel all that day, though strongly tempted to confide in one or other of the big ones. But after dinner that evening, when they went into dessert, Cecil's father called them to him.
"I've got a story which will amuse you, children," he said. "I was riding past Welby's farm this morning, and Welby was quite full of a present his sailor son has sent him. It is a monkey—the funniest little fellow possible. He arrived, dressed in a red jacket and cap, and was soon as friendly as possible with them all, he says. But the queerest thing is this. Last week Tom Welby took the monkey a walk in the woods and gave him some blackberries. Mr. Monkey seemed to like them very much, and the next morning be disappeared, to the Welbys' consternation. They were sure he was stolen or lost. But late in the afternoon he came home again in a very good humour. And the next morning off he went again, to come home just like the day before. They couldn't make it out, but Tom was determined to find out, so he watched Mr. Monkey, and where do you think he was? In the woods gathering blackberrries on his own account, 'like a Christian,' said old Welby, and enjoying himself thoroughly. And now he goes off every morning regularly, and comes home when the afternoon gets chilly. It's really most amusing, isn't it?"
The children looked at each other, but for a moment none of them spoke. Then at last Nora burst out.
"Uncle, we saw him this morning. But—we were very silly—"
"We thought he was a wood-spirit—a—a—I can't remember the name," said Cecil.
"I wanted to shoot him," said Hilary.
At this there was a shout of laughter all round the table. The children hesitated, then they looked at each other again, and burst out laughing too.
"Why didn't you tell us?" asked big sister Mabel.