‘No, Maurice,’ she answered with something of a sob, ‘or I should not have my dear, dear little boy throttling me now! But why would you not come down to me?’ ‘Papa said I must not.’ Oh, that was quite right, my boy;’ and though she unclasped the tight arms, she drew him nestling into her bosom. ‘Oh, Maurice, it has been a terrible day! Does my little boy know how good the great God has been to him, and how near he was never seeing mamma nor his little sister again.’ Her great object was to make him thankful for his preservation, but with a child, knowing nothing of death and heedless of fear, this was very difficult. The rapid motion had been delightful excitement, or if there had been any alarm, it was forgotten in the triumph. She had to change her note, and represent how the poor horse might have run into the river, or against a post! Maurice looked serious, and then she came to the high moral tone--mounting strangers’ horses without leave--would papa, would Gilbert, think of such a thing? The full lip was put out, as though under conviction, and he hung his head. ‘You wont do it again?’ said she. ‘No.’ She told him to say his prayers, guiding the confession and thanksgiving that she feared he did not fully follow. As he rose up, and saw the tears on her cheeks, he whispered, ‘Mamma, did it make you _so_?’ Cause and effect were a great puzzle to him, but that swoon was the only thing that brought home to him that he had been guilty of something enormous, and when she owned that his danger had been the occasion, he stood and looked; then, standing bolt upright, with clasped hands, and rosy feet pressed close together, he said, with a long breath, ‘I’ll never get on Bamfylde again till I’m a big boy.’ As he spoke, Mr. Kendal pushed open the half-closed door, and Albinia, looking up, said, ‘Here’s a boy who knows he has done wrong, papa.’ Never was more welcome excuse for lifting the gallant child to his breast, and lavishing caresses that would have been tender but for the strong spirit of riot which turned them into a game at romps, cut short by Mr. Kendal, as soon as the noise grew very outrageous. ‘That’s enough to-night; good night.’ And when they each had kissed the monkey face tossing about among the clothes, Maurice might have heard more pride than pain in the ‘I never saw such a boy!’ with which they shut the door. ‘This is not prudent!’ said Mr. Kendal. ‘Do you think I could have rested till I had seen him? and he said you had told him not to come down.’ ‘I would have brought him to you. You are looking very ill; you had better go to bed at once.’ ‘No, I should not sleep. Pray let me grow quiet first. Now you know you trust Maurice,--old Maurice, and I’ll lie on the sofa like any mouse, if you’ll bring him up and let him talk. You know it will be an interesting novelty for you to talk, and me to listen! and he has not seen the baby.’