In this way good old Nancy told the truth and didn't tell the truth, all to save pain to Madam. But Terry hung her head. She was, as usual, longing to confess everything that had happened, but kept silence through obedience to Nurse Nancy. However, when she was invited to partake of the good things of the tea-table, she did not fail to verify Nurse Nancy's prediction as to the return of her appetite.
Indeed, all the troubles of the morning had been by this time removed so far away that it seemed as if they must have happened a year ago. Lally had sent her word that Jocko's knees were nearly all right, and that he suffered no pain from them. Turly's head was in its usual place, and the pot, being brass, was not even broken. Her practising had been done, and Granny would have another fresh egg to-morrow morning for breakfast. So there was no reason in the world why Terry should not make a good tea, now was there?
After tea came a rush of joy which quite swept away the recollection of everything uncomfortable, for Granny informed the children that she had had a letter from Africa saying that it was probable their father and mother might come home within a very short time. Dear old Granny had tears in her eyes while telling this news; and she said that she was rejoiced to think of what very good children she should be able to present to their parents when they did arrive at home.
The evening was passed delightfully, trotting about the floor with the kittens, reciting poetry, reading aloud, and embroidering. Granny told some pretty stories of when she was a little girl, stories to which the children always listened with real delight, because Gran'ma evidently had been a little girl, from the sort of things she told, and the way she told them, not like some grown-up people who would make their youngers believe that they never cared for anything but lesson-books and goody-goodiness from the moment they were christened. Granny even sang them one or two little songs which she used to sing when she was ever so small, and Terry thought she never heard anything so sweet as Granny's soft singing, although it did only whisper sometimes, and now and then her voice would crack off on the high notes. There was one little ditty which the children liked greatly, and which Granny said used to be sung to her by her nurse to put her to sleep. The song began:
| "It's pretty to live in Ballinderry, Far prettier to live in Magherlin; Far prettier to live in Ram's Island And see the little boats sailing in!" |
It was altogether an evening which made the children feel completely absolved for any blunders they had committed, and they got up the next morning particularly good, not afraid of anything, and quite ready for a new adventure. There was a snow world outside the windows, and this in itself was an excitement.
Blackbirds, thrushes, finches, tomtits, came round the doors and windows begging alms, not to mention crows and magpies, who fought with the little birds for the crumbs provided for all, and proved themselves intolerable bullies, much to Terry's disgust.
"The best plan will be," said Turly, "to throw big pieces, and then these monsters will fly away with them, and leave the little fellows to eat in peace."
This was done, and the rooks in their sombre cloaks and hoods, and the magpies in their courtly black satin and white velvet, pounced on the morsels, and retired with them to the branches of the nearest trees.
"Oh, now," said Terry, "we can give the dear little song-birds their breakfast! Just see how they are running like little chickens to be fed!"