Kendal came down, saying that she
was quietly asleep, and he had left the nurse with her. He had yet
to hear the story, and when he understood that the child had been
madly careering along the towing-path, on the back of young
Dusautoy's most spirited hunter, and had been only stopped when the
horse was just about to leap the tall gate, he was completely
overcome. When he spoke again, it was with the abrupt exclamation,
'That child! Lucy, bring him down!'
In marched the boy, full of life and mischief, though with a large
red spot beneath each eye.
'Maurice!' Gilbert had often heard that tone, but Maurice never, and
he tossed back his head with an innocent look of fearless wonder.
'Maurice, I find you have been a very naughty, disobedient boy. When
you rode the pony round the yard, did not I order you never to do so
again?'
'I did not do it again,' boldly rejoined Maurice.
'Speak the truth, sir. What do you mean by denying what you have
done?' exclaimed his father, angrily.
'I didn't ride the pony,' indignantly cried the child, 'I rode a
horse, saddled and bridled!'
'Don't answer me in that way!' thundered Mr. Kendal, and much
incensed by the nice distinction, and not appreciating the sincerity
of it, he gave the child a shake, rough enough to bring the red into
his face, but not a tear. 'You knew it was very wrong, and you were
as near as possible breaking your neck.
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