Chapter 5: A Prodigal

“Uncle Edward, nurse and I are going shopping; would you like us to buy you anything? We are going in the dog-cart with Harris.”

Milly was dancing up and down on the rug inside the front door as she spoke. It was a bright, frosty morning, and Sir Edward was leaving the breakfast-room with the newspaper and a large packet of letters in his hand. He stopped and glanced at the little fur-clad figure as she stood there, eager anticipation written on her face, and his thoughts went back to the time when he as a boy looked upon a day’s visit to the neighboring town—nine miles away—as one of his greatest pleasures.

“Yes,” he said, slowly fumbling in his waistcoat pocket; “you can get me some pens and blotting paper at the stationer’s. I will write down the kind I want, and here is the money. Keep the change, and buy anything you like with it.”

Milly’s cheeks flushed with delight as she took the money—

“What a lot it will buy!” she said. “Thank you very much indeed. I was wanting to buy something my own self, and I’ve only a little cook gave me, but now I shall be quite rich.”

It was late in the afternoon when nurse and her little charge drove back, and Sir Edward met them coming up the avenue. Milly’s face was clouded, and there were traces of tears on her cheeks, and this was such an unusual sight that Sir Edward inquired of the nurse what was the matter.

“She has not been good, sir, I am sorry to say. It isn’t often that I have to pull her up, but she has given me such a fright and trouble this afternoon as I am not likely to forget in a hurry.”

“What has she been doing? But never mind; I will not detain you now. I can hear about it when we get in.”

Nurse was evidently very disturbed in mind, for she poured into Sir Edward’s ear, directly they were inside the hall, a confused story:—

“I was in the grocer’s, sir, and I knew I should be there some time; for cook, she gave me so many commissions I had to write a long list of them. I said to Miss Milly, ‘You can stand outside, but don’t go a step farther.’ She knows she is never allowed to speak to such people; I’ve known, as I told her, children being carried bodily off and set down at a street corner with hardly a rag on their backs; and to think of her marching off with him, and never a thought of my anxiety—and the way I went rushing up and down the streets—and the policemen—they are perfectly useless to help a person, but can only stare at you and grin. I’m sure I never expected to light eyes on her again, and I lost my purse and my best umbrella; I left them both somewhere, but it was nigh on two hours I spent, and my shopping not near done, and he the greatest looking rascal that one might see coming out of jail. I’m sure I shouldn’t have been so angry but to see her smiling face, as if she hadn’t done any wrong at all, nor disobeyed me flatly, and most likely put herself in the way of catching the most infectious disease from the very look of him, and run the risk of being robbed and perhaps murdered, and not an idea in her head that she was a very naughty child, but quite expected me to see the reasonableness of it all!”

Nurse stopped for breath, whilst Milly’s hanging head, heaving chest, and quick sobs showed that by this time nurse’s words had quite convinced her of her wrong-doing.