One day he inquired for her, and heard, to his no small satisfaction,
she had driven to Mrs. Meyrick's, with a box of things for Mr. Bassett.
She stayed at the farmhouse all day, and Sir Charles felt sure he had
done the right thing.
Mrs. Meyrick found out to her cost the difference between a nursling
and a rampageous little boy.
Her lamb, as she called him, was now a young monkey, vigorous, active,
restless, and, unfortunately, as strong on his pins as most boys of
six. It took two women to look after him, and smart ones too, so
swiftly did he dash off into some mischief or other. At last Mrs.
Meyrick simplified matters in some degree by locking the large gate,
and even the small wicket, and ordering all the farm people and
milkmaids to keep an eye on him, and bring him straight to her if he
should stray, for he seemed to hate in-doors. Never was such a boy.
Nevertheless, such as had not the care of him admired the child for his
beauty and his assurance. He seemed to regard the whole human race as
one family, of which he was the rising head. The moment he caught sight
of a human being he dashed at it and into conversation by one unbroken
movement.
Now children in general are too apt to hide their intellectual
treasures from strangers by shyness.
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