et her heart on for little
Gervais, the proprietor made one of his boys go out to hold the pony.
But after this Mrs. Caryll had to drive to a less busy part of the town,
to order some wire baskets to hang ferns in, at a working tinsmith's.
And here there was no odd boy in the shop. She did not like to leave
Rosamond alone outside, as she was afraid of the pony starting, but just
as she was looking about her what to do, she caught sight of a little
fellow sauntering down the street, and called out to him. He ran up at
once.

'Will you hold the pony for a few minutes?' she was saying, when
Rosamond interrupted her.

'It's Bob, auntie,' she said, 'Bob Crag. Of course he'll hold Tony, and
may I stay out? I'm quite warm, and I've got the parcels all nicely
packed under the rug.'

'Very well,' replied Mrs. Caryll, for she knew the tinsmith's would not
be interesting to her little niece, and with a friendly nod to Bob, who
was tugging at his cap, she went into the shop, or workroom, for it was
scarcely like a shop.

Miss Mouse was quite excited at meeting Bob.

'How funny for you to be here,' she said. 'Have you come to do some
messages for your grandmother?'

'No thank you, miss,' said the boy, meaning to be very polite. 'Granny
buys all she wants at Crowley; no, I didn't come here for no messages of
hers.'

Something in the sound of his voice made the little girl look at him
more closely, and she saw that he had been crying, though he turned away
quickly and began fiddling at the pony's harness as an excuse for
hiding his face. But Miss Mouse was not going to be put off like that.

[Illustration: 'BOB,' SHE SAID, HE PRETENDED NOT TO HEAR HER.]

'Bob,' she said. He pretended not to hear her.

'Bob,' again more loudly and determinedly this time.

'Beg pardon, miss, did you speak?' said the boy.

'Yes, Bob, I did, and you heard me. You were only pretending not to,
because you didn't want me to see that there's something the matter with
you. Look at me, Bob,' and he dared not disobey. When Rosamond spoke in
that queenly way she was very awe-inspiring.

'I see,' she said, 'you have been crying, Bob. Now what is the matter?
Have you been doing anything naughty, or what is it?'

He brushed his coat sleeve across his eyes, and tried to choke down a
sob.

'No, miss,' he managed at last to get out; 'leastways I never meant to
do anything wrong-- I never did, for certain sure, I never did. And I
dursn't tell you, mi