'
Maurice looked up, tossed his curls out of his eyes, shook himself,
felt the place on his arm where the grip of the hand had been, and
galloped off like the young colt that he was.
Albinia awoke, refreshed, though still shaken and feeble, and
surprised to find that dinner was going on downstairs. Her own meal
presently put such new force into her, that she felt able to speak
Maurice's name without bursting into tears, and longing to see both
her little ones beside her, she told the nurse to fetch the boy, but
received for answer, 'No, Master Maurice said he would not come,' and
the manner conveyed that it had been defiantly said. Master Maurice
was no favourite in the nursery, and he was still less so, when his
mamma, disregarding all mandates, set out to seek him. Already she
heard from the stairs the wrangling with Susan that accompanied all
his toilettes, and she found him the picture of firm, solid fairness,
in his little robe de nuit, growling through the combing of his
tangled locks. Though ordinarily scornful of caresses, he sprang to
her and hugged her, as she sat down on a low chair, and he knelt in
her lap, whispering with his head on her shoulder, and his arms round
her neck, 'Mamma, were you dead?'
'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.
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