“I wish to have the whole account from you, Fanny, for his is not very clear,” she observed. “He says that little Robby ran after him.”
“Oh, how can you say that?” exclaimed Fanny indignantly. “If it had not been for little Robby you know perfectly well that you might have lost your life;” and then without hesitation she gave the exact account of what had occurred.
“I am deeply grieved to find that instead of expressing your gratitude to the little fellow, you should have wished to throw blame upon him,” said Mrs Leslie, looking very grave as she spoke; “you were wrong in running away without your sister, but that fault might easily have been overlooked. I feel ashamed of acknowledging you as my grandson in the presence of my old friend here, and I grieve that they should find you capable of acting so base a part.”
Norman could say nothing in his defence. He did not like being scolded by his grandmamma as he called it, but still he did not see his behaviour in its proper light, and instead of being sorry, he felt only vexed and angry and more than ever disposed to vent his ill-feeling on Fanny.
His poor mamma was very unhappy, but she did not know what to say to him more than what his grandmamma had already said.
“I will talk to him in his room by-and-by, and point out to him the sin he has committed,” she observed to Mrs Leslie.
The laird soon after came in, and the party went to dinner. He saw that something was wrong, but refrained from asking questions.
Norman ate his dinner in silence, and no one felt disposed to speak to him. He did not like this, and it made him feel more and more angry with Fanny.
“Why should she say all that about me! why could not she let my story be believed! It could not have done that little brat any harm, if they had thought I tumbled down because he ran after me. He did, he did run after me, for I saw him. But I am determined that Fanny shall not tell tales about me; I will punish her in a way she does not think of. She will grow very fond of that stupid little bird, but I will take care that she does not keep it very long. Perhaps some day the door of the cage will be open, and it will fly away. Ah! ah! Miss Fanny, I am not going to let you tell tales of me.”
Such were the thoughts which passed through the mind of the little boy. He had never been taught to restrain his evil feelings, and to seek for help from God’s Holy Spirit to put them away immediately they came to him. Instead of doing that, he allowed them to remain and to grow and grow, and a bad thought, however small it may appear at first, must always grow till it becomes so great, that it makes a slave of the person who allows it to spring up within him.