“He has been frightened by the dog, and says that Fanny set the animal at him,” answered Mrs Vallery.
“That is impossible,” observed Mrs Leslie, “Fanny could not have done anything of the sort.”
“She is a cruel thing, and wants the dog to bite me,” growled out Norman in a whining tone, still half crying.
“I will answer for it that Fanny is much more likely to have tried to prevent the dog from frightening you, for I am sure that he would not bite you. Come here, Fanny, I know that you will speak the truth.”
Fanny felt grateful to her grandmamma for her remark, and explained exactly what had occurred.
Mrs Vallery was convinced that she was innocent, and Norman was at last persuaded to return with her into the garden. Fanny talked to him gently, and tried to make him forget his fright.
“Come to the tool-house where I keep my spade and hoe and rake. There is a little spade which I used to use, it will just suit you, and we will go and arrange the garden you are to have,” she said as they went along.
“That is an old thing you have done with,” growled Norman scornfully, as she gave him the little spade, “I must have a new one of my own.”
“I hope papa will give you one,” she answered quietly, “but in the meantime will you not use this?”
Norman took it, eyeing it disdainfully, but Fanny, making no remark, led the way to the plot of ground the gardener had laid out for them. One part of it was full of summer flowers, the other half she had left uncultivated that Norman might have the pleasure of digging it up and putting in seeds and plants.