Mr. Lazelle would reply, "O, certainly, madam; be quite easy about the child; he is not out of my sight for a moment!"
So saying, perhaps he would go in search of him, and find him under a seat playing with Pincher, his clothes covered with dust, and his cap lying between somebody's feet.
At such times Mr. Lazelle always said,—"Upon my word, you're a pretty little fellow!" and looked as if he would like to shake him, if it were not for soiling his gloves.
Horace laughed when Mr. Lazelle called him "a pretty little fellow," and thought it a fine joke. He laughed, too, when the young man told him to "come out," for there was something in the pettish tone of his voice which Horace considered very amusing.
"I'll wait till he gets through scolding, and goes to coaxing," thought the boy: "he's a smart man! can't make such a little fellow mind!"
Mr. Lazelle was very much vexed with Horace, and firmly resolved that he would never again take charge of a lady travelling with children. At one time he flew into a passion, and boxed the boy's ears. Horace felt very much like a wounded wasp. He knew Mr. Lazelle would not have dared strike him before his mother, and from that moment he despised him as a "sneak."
Whenever Mr. Lazelle was looking for him in great haste, he was very likely to be missing; and when that sorely tried young gentleman was almost in despair, a saucy little head would appear at the car-window, and a small voice would shout,—
"Ho, Mr. Lazelle! why don't you come ahead? I beat you in!"
"Horace," said Mrs. Clifford, wearily, "you don't know how you tire me! Here is this dear baby that I have to hold in my arms; isn't it enough that I should have the care of him, without being all the while anxious about you?"
"Yes," chimed in Grace, pushing back her beautiful curls, "you don't know how ma and I fret about you. You'll kill poor ma before ever we can get you east!"