She spent the time before breakfast the next morning in a search

among the back numbers of the "Traveller's Magazine" for a paper upon

"Educational Laws," which she thought would be very good reading for

Fanny. Her search had been just completed when Grace returned home

from church, looking a good deal distressed. "My poor thrushes have not

escaped, Rachel," she said; "I came home that way to see how they were

going on, and the nest is torn out, one poor little fellow lying dead

below it."

"Well, that is much worse than I expected!" burst out Rachel. "I did

think that boy Conrade would at least keep his promises." And she

detailed the adventure of the previous day, whence the conclusion was

but too evident. Grace, however, said in her own sweet manner that she

believed boys could not resist a nest, and thought it mere womanhood to

intercede for such lawful game. She thought it would be best to take no

notice, it would only distress Fanny and make "the mother" more afraid

of the boys than she was already, and she doubted the possibility of

bringing it home to the puerile conscience.

"That is weak!" said Rachel. "I received the boy's word, and it is my

business to deal with the breach of promise."

So down went Rachel, and finding the boys rushing about the garden,

according to their practice, before her arrival, she summoned Conrade,

and addressed him with, "Well, Conrade, I knew that you were violent

and disobedient, but I never expected you to fail in your honour as a

gentleman."

"I'll thrash any one who says I have," hotly exclaimed Conrade.

"Then you must thrash me. You gave your word to me not to take your Aunt

Grace's thrush's nest."

"And I didn't," said Conrade, boldly.

But Rachel, used to flat denials at the village-school, was not to be

thus set aside. "I am shocked at you, Conrade," she said. "I know your

mamma will be exceedingly grieved. You must have fallen into very sad

ways to be able to utter such a bold untruth. You had better confess at

once, and then I shall have something to tell her that will comfort he."

Conrade's dark face looked set as iron.

"Come; tell me you are sorry you took the nest, and have broken your

word, and told a falsehood."

Red colour flushed into the brown cheek, and the hands were clenched.

"There is not the smallest use in denying it. I know you took it when

you and Hubert went away together. Your Aunt Grace found it gone this

morning, and one of the poor little birds dead below. What have you done

with the others?"

Not a word.

"Then I grieve to say I must tell all to your mother."




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