“No,” said Phoena, “instead of minutes, he left Gaston standing there hour after hour, for he would not break his promise—Gaston wouldn’t, I mean,—till at last, worn out with weariness, and want of food, he fell off the chair, and broke his leg.”
“You see,” explained Faith, “Gaston wasn’t tied to the back of the chair, as the farmer had been careful to tie Andrew, so that he might have a support at his back; for when Gaston had set him free, Andrew was only in such a hurry to get off himself, that he did nothing for Gaston. So poor Gaston had nothing to lean against. Oh, mother, I am ashamed of Andrew, I am ashamed of him,” wound up poor Fay, tearfully.
“The boys say that they will never speak to him again,” said Phoena.
“None of you will have the chance of doing so for some time to come,” said Mrs. Durand; “for I had already arranged for him to go to a tutor, in Edinburgh, where I hope he will be taught better ways, and now I shall telegraph to Sarah to come and fetch him away this very afternoon, and keep him with her at home, till I can settle for his journey north. It will depend on his behaviour there, if I allow him to come home at Christmas.”
“It was a terrible pity,” said Fay, “that he and Di ever thought of breaking into that room. Is it really true, mother, that yesterday the doctor thought that Di might never get better?”
“It is indeed,” said Mrs. Durand, “and though he hopes now, that by God’s mercy she may recover, Dr. Forbes says that it will be long before Di is quite well again. She has had a sharp lesson for her disobedience, which she will never forget all her life. And now, children, as regards poor, dear little Gaston, we must all think what we can do for him,” added Mrs. Durand.
“He’ll have to have the golden prize,” cried Hubert, coming into the room, so as to catch the last words, “for we all agreed, didn’t we? that the one who did the unselfishest thing, and the thing that hurt themselves the most, should be called the bestest of them all.”
* * * * * * * *
The pride of the summer was gone, as Mrs. Busson termed it. The harvest fields had been cleared, and the apple-gathering was about to begin, when the grand feast, which was to celebrate the achievements of the Knights of the Order of Good Intentions, was at last held.
Matters had turned out very differently from what they had expected, when the children had first planned it all.