“I mind it, and I’ll heed it, mother, as I’ve promised you before,” said Teddy solemnly; and mother and son exchanged as tender and as true a kiss as young Bayard and his lady-mother could have done when she gave him to be a knight and chevalier.

All through this long conversation, which had been carried on in a low tone of voice, and frequently interrupted when it seemed to disturb her, ’Toinette had slept feverish and restlessly; but as the washwoman crept away to begin her daily labors, and Teddy lingered for a moment more to look at the poor little sister whose beauty was to him an ever-new delight, her great blue eyes suddenly opened, and fixed upon him, while with an airy little laugh she said,—­

“We’re King and Queen of Merrigoland, Peter; isn’t we?  Does you love me, Peter?”

“I couldn’t tell how well I love you, Cherry dear; but it’s Teddy I am, and not Peter,” said the boy, bashfully kissing the little hot hand upon the outside of the bed.

To his dismay, the delirious child snatched it from him with a wild cry, and burst into a storm of tears and sobs, crying,—­

“Go away, wicked lady! go away, I say!  God won’t love you when you strike me, you know.  He won’t:  my mamma said so.  Oh, oh, oh!”

Her cries brought Mrs. Ginniss to her side in a moment, who, tenderly soothing her, turned upon Teddy.

“Bad ‘cess to yees, ye spalpeen!  An’ what ud ye be afther vexin’ her for, an’ her in a faver?  What did yees say to her?”

“I said my name was Teddy, and not Peter; and then she said I was a lady, and struck her,” replied the boy, bewildered, and a little indignant.

“And sure ye’r Peter or Paul, or Judas hissilf, if so be she likes to call ye so while she’s this way; an’, if ye shtrike her, it’s the weight uv my fist ye’ll feel; mind that, young man!—­Whisht, thin, darlint! asy, mavourneen!”

’Toinette, hushed upon the motherly bosom of the good woman, soon ceased her cries, and presently fell again to sleep; while Teddy, with rather an injured look upon his uncouth face, and yet pleased to see the little sister in his mother’s arms, crept softly from the room, with his breakfast in his hand.

CHAPTER X.

The empty nest.

When Susan returned from carrying Bessie Rider home, she was quite surprised to find the front-door ajar, as she thought she had been sure of latching it in going out; but, without stopping to make any inquiries of the other servants, she ran up the stairs, took off her shawl and hood, and then went to the drawing-room for ’Toinette.  The room was empty; and Susan at once concluded that Mrs. Legrange had taken the child to her own chamber while she dressed for dinner, as ’Toinette often begged to be present at this ceremony, and was often indulged.

“I’ll just ready up the nursery a bit before I fetch her,” said Susan, looking round the littered room; and so it was half an hour before she knocked at Mrs. Legrange’s chamber-door with, “I came for Miss ’Toinette, ma’am.”