when I committed my memorable offence. However, as it must be
done, I went down, after two or three false starts half-way, and as
many runs back on tiptoe to my own room, and presented myself
in the parlour.
He was standing before the fire with his back to it, while Miss
Murdstone made the tea. He looked at me steadily as I entered,
but made no sign of recognition whatever. I went up to him, after a
moment of confusion, and said: ‘I beg your pardon, sir. I am very
sorry for what I did, and I hope you will forgive me.’
‘I am glad to hear you are sorry, David,’ he replied.
The hand he gave me was the hand I had bitten. I could not
restrain my eye from resting for an instant on a red spot upon it;
but it was not so red as I turned, when I met that sinister
expression in his face.
‘How do you do, ma’am?’ I said to Miss Murdstone.
‘Ah, dear me!’ sighed Miss Murdstone, giving me the tea-caddy
scoop instead of her fingers. ‘How long are the holidays?’
‘A month, ma’am.’
‘Counting from when?’
‘From today, ma’am.’
‘Oh!’ said Miss Murdstone. ‘Then here’s one day off.’
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