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Updated: June 9, 2025
"The truth," says the Boodie, unflinchingly; "the last he brought were a reg'lar swindle ask Jacky; why they wouldn't go off even if you stamped on 'em."
Beaufort, resentfully. "Indeed I shall not. I never whipped one of them in my life, and I never shall." "You'd be afraid," says Dicky Browne. "You should see Julia when the Boodie attacks her; she literally goes into her boots, and stays there. It is, indeed, a pitiable exhibition. By-the-by, does anybody want dinner; because, if so, he may as well go and dress. It is quite half-past six."
"Do you mean to tell me I didn't give you a whole box full the day before yesterday?" exclaims Mr. Dare, wrathfully, going up to the stolid child, and looking as if he would like to shake her. "Day before yesterday?" murmurs the Boodie, with a glance so far from the present moment that it might be in Kamtschatka. "Yes, exactly, the day before yesterday!" says Roger, furiously.
The Boodie, having walked up and down the pew several times, has finally come to anchor in Uncle Christopher's arms, and having flung her little white bonnet from her, has now snuggled her head inside his coat, and is intently listening to what appears to be a very lengthened whisper from him. It seems to be a whisper without an end, and one undesirous of response.
"Why may I have this album to-night when I mightn't last night?" asks the Boodie, shrewdly, her big sapphire eyes bigger than usual. "You scolded me about it last night, and every other time I touched it. And what's the matter with your eyes?" staring up at Portia, who has turned a page in the forbidden album, and is now gazing at a portrait of Fabian that is smiling calmly up at her.
She puckers up her smooth brows as if puzzled, and then says, slowly "I don't believe one word of it!" "Of what?" says Gower. Everybody by this time is looking at the Boodie, and the Boodie is steadfastly regarding Stephen Gower. "It wasn't true what she said," goes on the Boodie, meditatively, "because you have hair on your lip. Girls don't have hair on their lips do they?"
"I shan't eat any more of it if it gives you such awful trouble," says Dicky Browne, gallantly but insincerely; whereupon Roger turns upon him a glance warm with disgust. "Dulce," says the Boodie, who is also in the room, going up to Miss Blount, whom she adores, and clasping her arms round her waist; "let me go and see you make it; do," coaxingly. "I want to get some when it is hot.
Don't be aspersed by him, Boodie; you can understand me, I know, but I dare say I can soar higher than he can follow, and what I say to you contains 'thoughts that lie beyond the reach of his few words of English speech." "Thank you," says Fabian. The Boodie is plainly puzzled.
"It wasn't my fault, my dear," he says, apologetically; "I quite meant them to go off. I did, indeed." "Perhaps so. Take care, however, it doesn't occur again," says the Boodie, with so careful, though unconscious, an imitation of her mother's manner when addressing her maid, that they all laugh, whereupon she rolls back again to her former position, and takes no further notice of them.
Indeed, there is a legend extant that Uncle Christopher employs his time during the sermon, whenever the Boodie is with him, in telling her tales of fairyland, not to be surpassed by Grimm or Andersen! The rector bleats on incessantly; faintly and more faintly his voice seems to reach his flock.
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