'But do tell us what it was,' said Elizabeth, 'or I shall think it something uncommonly shocking.'
'I never spoke of it since, because I was too much ashamed,' said Anne; 'and it was very silly of me to do so now.'
'But when was it?' said Elizabeth.
'Two years ago,' said Anne, 'when you were all staying at Merton Hall, just before that nice nursery-maid of yours, Susan, married our man Evans.'
'Yes, I remember,' said Elizabeth; 'but what has that to do with your crime, whatever it may be?'
'A great deal,' said Anne; 'do not you recollect our hunting all over the garden one day for Winifred and Dora, and at last our asking old Ambrose whether he had seen them?'
'Oh yes, I think I do,' said Elizabeth; 'and he said that he had seen Susan and the children go down the blind walk. Then I said Dora had talked of seeing a blackbird's nest there, and he answered, with a most comical look, 'Ah! ha! Miss Woodbourne, I fancy they be two- legged blackbirds as Susan is gone to see.''
'Why, blackbirds have but two legs,' said Helen, looking mystified; 'what did he mean'?'
'That is exactly what Kate said,' said Elizabeth; 'but really I thought you were sharper, Helen. Cannot you guess?'
'Not in the least,' said Helen.
'That Evans was clipping the hedges,' said Anne.
Elizabeth and Anne indulged in a good laugh at Helen, as much as at Ambrose, and presently Elizabeth said, 'Well, but, Anne, where is your crime?'
'Oh! I thought you had remembered, and would spare me,' said Anne.
'But we have not,' said Elizabeth; 'so now for it.'
'Then if I am to tell,' said Anne, 'do not you recollect that I began to tell Rupert the story in the middle of dinner, when all the servants were there?'
'O Anne, I never fancied you such a goose!' said Elizabeth.
'My delinquencies made very little impression on you, then,' said Anne; 'I went on very fluently with the story till just as I had pronounced the words, 'two-legged blackbirds,' I saw Uncle Woodbourne's eye upon me, as he sat just opposite, with all its cold heavy sternness of expression, and at the same moment I heard a strange suppressed snort behind my chair.'
'Poor creature!' said Elizabeth; 'but you certainly deserved it.'
'I was ready to sink under the table,' said Anne; 'I did not dare to look up to Papa or Mamma, and I have been very much obliged to Mamma ever since for never alluding to that terrible dinner.'
'It is a regular proof that Fun is one of the most runaway horses in existence,'
said Elizabeth; 'very charming when well curbed, but if you give him the rein--'
'Yes, I have been learning that by sad experience all my life,' said Anne, with a sigh.
'You will never be silly enough to give him up, though,' said Elizabeth.
'Silly, do you call it?' said Helen.
'People think so differently on those matters,' said Anne.
'Yes, but a 'spirit full of glee' is what I think the most delightful thing in the world,'
said Elizabeth, 'and so do you.'
'Yes, in old age, when its blitheness has been proved to be something beyond animal spirits,' said Anne.
'And it is right that people should have animal spirits in their youth,' said Elizabeth, 'not grey heads on green shoulders, like some people of my acquaintance.--Do not be affronted, Helen; I dare say your head will grow greener all your life, it is better to-day than it was on Saturday morning.'
'But the worst of it is,' said Anne, 'that I believe it is very silly of me, but I am afraid Uncle Woodbourne has always thought me a most foolish girl ever since, and I do not like the idea of it.'
'Who would?' said Elizabeth; 'I am afraid I cannot tell you what he thinks of your sense, but of this I am sure, that he must think you the choicest damsel of his acquaintance, and wish his daughters were more like you.'
'And there could not have been the same meaning in his eye when he looked at you, as when he looked at Harriet,' said Helen.
'Oh no, I hope not,' said Anne.
'And you understood it a little better than one who can only feel personal inconvenience,' said Elizabeth; 'but how can I blame Harriet when I was the occasion of her fault? it is a thing I can never bear to think of.'
As Elizabeth said this, they came to a shop where Anne wished to buy some little presents for some children in the village at home, who, she said, would value them all the more for not being the production of the town nearest them. They pursued their search for gay remnants of coloured prints, little shawls, and pictured pocket- handkerchiefs, into the new town, and passed by Mr. Higgins's shop, the window of which was adorned with all the worst caricatures which had found their way to Abbeychurch, the portraits of sundry radical leaders, embossed within a halo of steel-pens, and a notice of a lecture on 'Personal Respectability,' to be given on the ensuing Friday at the Mechanics' Institute, by the Rev. W. Pierce, the Dissenting preacher.
Mr. Higgins appeared at the shop door, for the express purpose, as it seemed, of honouring Miss Merton and Miss Woodbourne each with a very low bow.
'There, Helen, is my punishment,' said Elizabeth; 'since you are desirous of poetical justice upon me.'
'Not upon you,' said Helen, 'only upon Harriet.'
