Norman walked on by the side of his sister towards the house without
speaking. Her heart was too full to say anything more. She found it,
indeed, very difficult to forgive her brother from the bottom of her
heart, and to love him notwithstanding all he had done.
Norman little thought as he walked by her side how kindly she felt to
him. He fancied that she was only thinking about her little dead bird,
and mourning for its loss. He was ashamed to look up into her face, as
he would have done, had his conscience not accused him--for although he
tried to persuade himself that he had not intended actually to kill the
bird, yet he well knew that he had harboured the thought day after day,
and often as he murmured to himself, "I did not want to kill it," a
voice said to him, "Norman, you know that you did want to kill it."
How different was the expression in the countenance of the two children.
Although both were handsome, that of Norman showed his irritable
discontented disposition. By the time they reached the house Fanny had
dried her tears, and hers exhibited the sweet gentle temper which
animated her.
As they got near the house they saw Mrs Leslie, who had come out into
the garden. Fanny ran forward to meet her, and taking her hand said--
"Dear granny it is all over, Norman is very sorry, so when papa comes
this evening, I hope that he may not hear about my poor birdie, and that
we shall both look smiling and happy."
"I hope so, my dear, and I am very sure that neither your mamma nor Mrs
Maclean will tell him of what has occurred."
"Oh, I shall be so much obliged to them," answered Fanny, "it is what I
have been dreading more than anything else, for I never saw Norman look
so grieved for anything he has done."
"That is a great step in the right direction, but he has still much to
learn, and many faults to correct, and those faults he will not correct
unless his heart is changed," answered Mrs Leslie.
"O dear granny, that is what I have been praying it may be," said Fanny,
"and you have often told me that God hears prayers even of weak little
girls like me."
"Yes, indeed, He does, and I trust that your prayers and mine, and your
mamma's, will be answered in His good time. God accomplishes His ends
as He judges best; and we must not despair, even if we do not see Norman
behave as well as we could wish all at once."
The subject of this conversation had been standing at some distance,
with his head cast down, unwilling to approach his grandmamma, for he
was afraid that he might receive another scolding, and was beginning to
harden his heart to resist it.
"Come here, my dear Norman," said Mrs Leslie. "You know how I love
you, for you are my only little grandson, and how anxious I am that you
should be good and happy, and prosper in this world. This makes me very
glad to hear what Fanny has been telling me, my dear child. We will all
pray, that you will be enabled to keep to your good resolutions, but you
must also pray for yourself. Then remember, my dear child, that God's
eye is upon you, that nothing you can think, or say, or do, is unknown
to Him, that He is aware of every thought which enters your mind, that
He sees even the most trifling thing you do, and hears every word you
utter. He wishes you to be happy, and if you try to obey Him, He will
enable you to be so. He is more loving than your papa or mamma, or your
sister, or I can be."
Norman listened attentively to all his grandmamma said. He might not
clearly have understood every word, but he certainly did her meaning;
and as she spoke so kindly and gently to him instead of scolding him, as
he thought she would, he thought he would try to do as she wished him.
The children were in their garden dresses; Norman's was much torn from
his scramble through the woods. Fanny had on one which her mamma had
brought from France, like that of a peasant girl, which was well suited
for wandering about the hills and moors.
After they had walked some time with their grandmamma, she desired them
to go in and dress, that they might be ready to receive their papa.
They were hurrying up to their rooms, when, as they passed the library
door, which was open, Fanny caught sight of her little pet's cage still
on the floor where she had left it.
"Oh, it must not remain there! what shall we do with it?" she said, as
she went in followed by Norman.
The sight of the empty cage was more than she could bear. She took it
up, and, looking at it for a moment, burst into tears. For some time
she stood with her arm resting on the table, supporting her head in her
hand.
"I did not think I should feel so much for poor, dear, little Pecksy,"
she said, trying to restrain her tears.
Norman stood by crying also. He could now sympathise with his sweet
sister; but a short time before he would have been inclined to laugh at
her tears, and "I did it; I did it," he said to himself. "Oh, how cruel
I was; I wish Mr Maclean had come at once, and heard all about it and
beat me, I am sure I deserve it; and the little bird, instead of singing
merrily in the cage, now lies in the black earth all by itself. Oh,
what a cruel, naughty boy I have been!" Such thoughts passed through
the mind of Norman though he did not speak them aloud. He rubbed his
eyes with the back of his hands, and looked up sorrowfully at his
sister.
At last Fanny recovered herself.
"I will carry the cage to granny," she said; "she will take care of it
till we can return it to old Alec, for I could never bear to see another
little bird in it."
Fanny felt this at the moment, but, probably, she would in time have
thought differently.
She took the cage to her grandmamma's room.
Norman stood outside while she went in.
Mrs Leslie promised to do what she wished, and she then went and
assisted Norman to dress. He made no resistance now, but let her wash
his face and hands as thoroughly as she thought necessary; and he went
and got his things and put them on himself, giving her as little trouble
as possible.
Fanny was rapid in all her movements, and never dawdled over her toilet,
so that she was quickly ready.
Norman on going into the hall met the laird, who had just come back from
a long day's fishing excursion, with a basketful of fine trout.
"Well, my laddie, I wish you had gone with me, for you would have seen
some good sport," he observed. "I was sorry that you did not keep to
your promise."
"I will behave properly another time," answered Norman; "I know I was
obstinate and naughty for not doing as you wished."
"Well, laddie, I am glad to hear you say that, and I hope we shall have
many a day's fishing together," was the answer.
"Thank you, Mr Maclean," said Norman. "I want to try and do as I am
told. If you had taken me with you I should not have killed Fanny's
poor little bird."
"What do you mean?" asked the laird.