At last Vulcan settled himself back in his kennel with the drenched and ragged remains of Nurse's gown and apron rolled around him, and with an air of thankfulness for his escape from persecution.
The children had followed him to the kennel, and stood dancing round him in the pouring rain. Nurse Nancy stood at the door exhorting them to come back to her.
"You bad childher, you dreadful childher! Miss Terry, I command you to come in out o' the pours of rain."
"It doesn't hurt, Nursey dear; indeed it doesn't," said Terry, as soon as her excitement allowed her to hear the voice; and she came running obediently across the yard.
"Hurt!" cried Nurse angrily, and seized a hand of each of the dripping children, marching them up the stairs in silence and into the nursery, where she deposited them on two chairs and stood looking at them in speechless indignation.
Turly looked defiant; Terry gazed at Nurse with dismay and bewilderment.
"You wicked little girl! I know it was you that did it. Turly would never have dared to."
"Yes, I would!" said Turly.
"No, indeed, he wouldn't, Nurse. It was all me. But you don't mean that I've been really wicked. Nurse, do you?"
"Don't I indeed? And my good gown in rags, and my cap in smithereens!"