Part 3 (1/2)

”I should get a good thras.h.i.+ng; or, in other words, Miss Curzon, get a good licking.”

After a brief silence, she resumed her questions.

”As you have been so short a time at Eton, I suppose you have not yet been punished?”

”O yes, many times. I got a capital flogging yesterday.”

”Will you tell me what you were flogged for?”

”For eating in church.”

”And what could make you do that?”

”I had been f.a.gging all the morning, Miss Curzon; and having no time for breakfast, I went into church with my rolls in my pocket, and one of the masters saw me eating them.”

”You have quite frightened me for poor little Frederic!”

”Perhaps he will be more fortunate,” I replied; ”so I must even wish, as you said just now, that he may indeed be my f.a.g, for then he can breakfast with me every morning.”

”I declare I will ask papa to place him under your care if you will let me?”

”You cannot know, Miss Curzon, how obliged I feel to you for thinking that I would take care of your brother; and depend upon it, I will.”

”Yes,” said the little lady, looking stedfastly in my face, ”I feel quite certain you would. But,” she added, as her own brightened with a smile, ”you must now fulfil your first promise to me, and find my father, for I am so tired, I must rest here a little longer.”

”Very well,” I replied; ”but how I should like to talk with you here all night! Do not go away until I return.”

I now hurried away in search of her father, who, after many inquiries, was pointed out to me by Chrichton, though in a very inaccessible position; for he was standing with other important personages, among whom I could discern the Duke, by the side of her Majesty's poney-phaeton.

”Do, Chrichton,” I begged--”do go up to Sir George Curzon for me; you are more used to that sort of thing than I.”

All my eloquence being thrown away upon him, and on that instant thinking of my little lady in the grove, I walked towards the group with my hat in my hand, without further hesitation.

”If you please, Sir George Curzon, there is a young lady in the shrubberies who wants you.”

”I think, young sir,” replied Sir George, ”you must make a mistake.”

”No, sir. She has lost you, she says; it is Miss Curzon.”

”Dear me! I thought she had been all this while with her aunt. Where is she?”

”A little beyond that temple on the hill, there,” I replied, pointing with my hat.

”You need hardly go all that way yourself,” said the Duke, observing Sir George about to follow me; ”the boy can show her here very well.”

”Yes, Sir George,” added her Majesty; ”let the little boy run and bring her.”

”Well, then, my little gentleman,” asked Sir George, ”may I ask you to do so?”