Part 13 (2/2)

He put down his cup and looked round him in great perplexity. If only he could ask Floss. But Floss was at the other side of the table, she seemed to be drinking her tea without any misgiving. Wasn't it naughty?

Could she have forgotten? Carrots grew more and more unhappy; the tears filled his eyes, and his face got scarlet.

”What's the matter, dear?” said auntie, who was sitting next him, ”is your tea too hot? Has it scalded your poor little mouth?”

She said it in a low voice. She was so kind and ”understanding,” she knew Carrots would not have liked everybody round the table to begin noticing him, and as she looked at him more closely, she saw that the tears in his eyes were those of distress, not of ”scalding.”

”No, thank you,” said Carrots, looking up in auntie's face in his perplexity; ”it isn't that. My tea is _werry_ good, but it's got sugar in.”

”And you don't like sugar? Poor old man! Never mind, Cecil will give you another cup. You're not like Sybil in your tastes,” said auntie, kindly, and she turned to ask Cecil for some sugarless tea for her little brother.

”No, no, auntie. Oh, _please_ don't,” whispered Carrots, his trouble increasing, and pulling hard at his aunt's sleeve as he spoke, ”I _do_ like sugar werry much--it isn't that. But mamma said I was never, _never_ to take nucken that wasn't mine, and sugar won't be mine for two weeks more, nurse says.”

Auntie stared at her little nephew in blank bewilderment. What _did_ he mean? Even her quick wits were quite at fault.

”What _do_ you mean, my dear little boy?” she said.

Suddenly a new complication struck poor Carrots.

”Oh!” he exclaimed, ”it's a secret, it's a secret, and I'm telling it,”

and he burst into tears.

It was impossible now to hide his trouble. Everybody began to cross-question him.

”Cry-baby,” muttered Maurice, and even Mrs. Desart said, ”Carrots, I wonder at your behaving so when your aunt and cousin are here. Floss, do you know what is the matter with him?”

”No, mamma,” said Floss, looking as she always did when Carrots was in distress, ready to cry herself.

”Carrots,” said Captain Desart, sharply, ”go to the nursery till you learn to behave properly.”

Carrots got slowly down off his high chair, and crept away. But everybody looked troubled and uncomfortable.

Auntie hated to see people looking troubled and uncomfortable. She thought a minute, and then she turned to Mrs. Desart.

”Lucy,” she said, ”will you let me try what I can do with the poor little fellow? I am sure it was not naughtiness made him cry.”

And almost before Mrs. Desart could reply, auntie was off to the nursery in search of Carrots.

He had left off crying, and was sitting quietly by the window, looking out at his old friend the sea.

”What are you thinking about, my poor old man?” said auntie, fondly.

Carrots looked up at her. ”I like you to call me that,” he said. ”I was thinking about our hoops and what a long time four weeks is.”

”Has that to do with you having no sugar?” asked auntie.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”What are you thinking about, my poor old man?” said auntie, fondly. _To face page_ 148.]

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