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Updated: May 22, 2025
"Here, catch hold of the bell-handle so. Your other hand there keep the tongue fast in it, and don't ring till I give the word." Miss Lillycrop was perfect in her docility. A large tin tea-tray hung at the side of Miss Stivergill's bed. Beside it was a round ball with a handle to it. Miss Lillycrop had wondered what these were there for. She soon found out.
Little Pax rolled on the grass in indescribable ecstasies for a few seconds, then crept through the hole, and followed his victim. But Bones was no coward. He had only been taken by surprise, and soon stopped. Still, he was sufficiently superstitious to look frequently over his shoulder as he walked in the direction of Miss Stivergill's Cottage. Pax was by that time on familiar ground.
Thereafter Miss Stivergill's illustration of mercy, for the sake of another, had set the unlocked door ajar, and the discovery that his ill-treated little nephew had nearly lost his life in the same cause, had pulled the door well back on its rusty hinges. Having thus obtained free entrance, Remorse sat down and did its work with terrible power.
It's of no use attempting to resist me, Lilly tell them that for in this affair I have made up my mind that my will shall be law." Reader, what more need we add except that Miss Stivergill's will did eventually become law, because it happened to correspond with the wishes of all concerned.
"You must know, Phil, that a long while ago just about the time of the burglary at Miss Stivergill's cottage I made the amazin' discovery that little Tottie Bones is Mariar alias Merry, the little baby-cousin I was nuss to in the country long ago, whom I've often spoke to you about, and from whom I was torn when she had reached the tender age of two or thereby.
"Now," said Phil, when they had seen the last of the Volunteers off the field, "what shall you and I do?" "Ah! true, that is the question," returned Pax; "what are we to do? Our holidays are before us. The day is far spent; the evening is at hand. We can't bivouac here, that is plain. What say you, Phil, to walking over to Miss Stivergill's?
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