“Come here, my dear Norman,” said Mrs Leslie. “You know how I love you, for you are my only little grandson, and how anxious I am that you should be good and happy, and prosper in this world. This makes me very glad to hear what Fanny has been telling me, my dear child. We will all pray, that you will be enabled to keep to your good resolutions, but you must also pray for yourself. Then remember, my dear child, that God’s eye is upon you, that nothing you can think, or say, or do, is unknown to Him, that He is aware of every thought which enters your mind, that He sees even the most trifling thing you do, and hears every word you utter. He wishes you to be happy, and if you try to obey Him, He will enable you to be so. He is more loving than your papa or mamma, or your sister, or I can be.”
Norman listened attentively to all his grandmamma said. He might not clearly have understood every word, but he certainly did her meaning; and as she spoke so kindly and gently to him instead of scolding him, as he thought she would, he thought he would try to do as she wished him.
The children were in their garden dresses; Norman’s was much torn from his scramble through the woods. Fanny had on one which her mamma had brought from
France, like that of a peasant girl, which was well suited for wandering about the hills and moors.
After they had walked some time with their grandmamma, she desired them to go in and dress, that they might be ready to receive their papa. They were hurrying up to their rooms, when, as they passed the library door, which was open, Fanny caught sight of her little pet’s cage still on the floor where she had left it.
“Oh, it must not remain there! what shall we do with it?” she said, as she went in followed by Norman.
The sight of the empty cage was more than she could bear. She took it up, and, looking at it for a moment, burst into tears. For some time she stood with her arm resting on the table, supporting her head in her hand.
“I did not think I should feel so much for poor, dear, little Pecksy,” she said, trying to restrain her tears.
Norman stood by crying also. He could now sympathise with his sweet sister; but a short time before he would have been inclined to laugh at her tears, and “I did it; I did it,” he said to himself. “Oh, how cruel I was; I wish Mr Maclean had come at once, and heard all about it and beat me, I am sure I deserve it; and the little bird, instead of singing merrily in the cage, now lies in the black earth all by itself. Oh, what a cruel, naughty boy I have been!” Such thoughts passed through the mind of Norman though he did not speak them aloud. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, and looked up sorrowfully at his sister.