“She never does punish me—­not now,” said Milly plaintively.  “When I was a very little girl I used to stand in the corner.  I don’t think nurse has punished me for years.”

Sir Edward was in a dilemma; children’s punishments were quite unknown to him.  Milly seemed to guess at his difficulty.

“How were you punished when you were a little boy, uncle?”

“I used to be well thrashed.  Many is the whipping that I have had from my father!”

“What is a whipping—­like you gave Fritz when he went into the game wood?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause.  The child clasped her little hands tighter, and set her lips firmer, as she saw before her eyes a strong arm dealing very heavy strokes with a riding-whip.  Then she said in an awe-struck tone,—­

“And do you think that is how you had better punish me?”

Sir Edward smiled grimly as he looked at the baby figure standing so erect before him.

“No,” he said; “I do not think you are a fit subject for that kind of treatment.”

Milly heaved a sigh of relief.

“And don’t you know how to punish,” she said after some minutes of awkward silence.  There was commiseration in her tone.  The situation was becoming ludicrous to Sir Edward, though there was a certain amount of annoyance at feeling his inability to carry out his threat.

“Nurse told me,” continued his little niece gravely, “that she knew a little boy who was shut up in a dark cupboard for a punishment; but he was found nearly dead, and really died the next day, from fright.  There is a dark cupboard on the kitchen stairs.  I don’t think I should be very frightened, because God will be in there with me.  Do you think that would do?”

This was not acceptable.  The child went on with knitted brows: 

“I expect the Bible will tell you how to punish.  I remember a man who picked up sticks on Sunday—­he was stoned dead; and Elisha’s servant was made a leper, and some children were killed by a bear, and a prophet by a lion, and Annas and Sophia were struck dead.  All of them were punished ‘most severely,’ weren’t they?  If you forgave me a little bit, and left out the ‘most severely,’ it would make it easier, I expect.”

“Perhaps I might do that,” said poor Sir Edward, who by this time longed to dispense with the punishment altogether; “as it was only a flower-pot, I will leave out the ‘most severely.’”

Milly’s face brightened.

“I think,” she said, coming up to him and laying one hand on his knee—­“I think if I were to go to bed instead of coming down to dessert with you this evening, that would punish me; don’t you think so?”

“Very well, that will do.  Now run away, and let this be your last breakage.  I cannot be worried with your punishments.”

“I will try to be very good, nurse, always,” said Milly while being tucked up in bed that night, “because Uncle Edward is very puzzled when he has to punish me.  He doesn’t know what to do.  He looked quite unhappy and said it worried him.”