Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Families -- Juvenile fiction
"'Sovereigns of England,' mamma, you see," she exclaimed, pointing to
the words on the lid, and quite out of breath with hurry and excitement,
"and I very often call them my sovereigns; and of course Carrots didn't
understand how there could be a _half_ one of them, nor how nurse could
have any."
"It must be so," said Mrs. Desart to her husband; "the poor child really
did _not_ understand."
"But still the taking the money at all, and hiding it?" said Captain
Desart. "I don't see that it would be right not to punish him."
"He has been punished already--pretty severely for him, I fancy," said
Floss's mother, with a rather sad smile. "You will leave him to me now,
won't you, Frank?" she asked her husband. "I will go up and see him, and
try to make him thoroughly understand. Give me the sovereigns, Floss
dear, I'll take them with me."
Somewhat slowly, Carrots' mother made her way upstairs. She was tired
and rather troubled. She did not believe that her poor little boy had
really done wrong wilfully, but it seemed difficult to manage well among
so many children; she was grieved also, at Maurice's hastiness and want
of tender feeling, and she saw, too, how little fitted Carrots was to
make his way in this rough-and-ready world.
"How would it be without me! My poor children," she thought with a sigh.
But a little hand was slipped into hers.
"Mamma, dear, I'm _so_ glad you thought of the sovereigns. I'm _sure_
Carrots didn't mean to be naughty. Mamma dear, though he _is_ so
little, Carrots always means to be good; I don't think he could even be
frightened into doing anything that he understood was naughty, though he
is so easily frightened other ways."
"My good little Floss, my comforter," said her mother, patting Floss's
hand, and then they together made their way to the dressing-room.
It was almost dark. The key was in the lock, and Mrs. Desart felt for it
and turned it. But when she opened the door it was too dark in the room
to distinguish anything.
"Carrots," she said, but there was no answer. "Where can he be?" she
said rather anxiously. "Floss, run and get a light."
Floss ran off: she was back again in a minute, for she had met nurse on
the stairs with a candle in her hand. But even with the light they could
not all at once find Carrots, and though they called to him there was no
answer.
"Can he have got out of the window?" Mrs. Desart was beginning to say,
when Floss interrupted her.
"Here he is, mamma," she exclaimed. "Oh, poor little Carrots! mamma,
nursie, do look."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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