Scamp snuffed the breeze and barked for joy, and Hetty danced along over the grass and through trees, forgetting everything but her own intense enjoyment of freedom in the open air that she loved.  Over yonder lay the forge, where, as a baby of four, she had watched the great horses being shod, and the sparks flying from their feet; and further on were the fields and the bit of wood where she had roamed alone, up to her eyes in the tall flag leaves and mistaking the yellow lilies for butterflies of a larger growth.  She did not remember all that now, but some pleasant consciousness of a former free happy existence in the midst of this fresh peaceful landscape came across her mind at moments, like gales of hawthorn-scented air.  Mrs. Enderby’s mild lectures, Phyllis’s contempt, Miss Davis’s shocked propriety, even Nell’s easily snubbed efforts to stand her friend, all vanished out of her memory as she went skimming along the grass like a swallow, thrilling in all her young nerves with the freshness and wildness of the breeze of heaven, and the vigour and buoyancy of the life within her veins.

Five miles into the open country went Hetty, by a road she had never seen before.  She knew not, nor did she think at all of where she was going; she only had a delightful sense of exploring new worlds.  However, about the middle of the day she felt very hungry.  She began to remember then that she could not keep on roving for ever, and that there was probably trouble before her at Wavertree, waiting for her return.

She sat down on a bank to rest, and Scamp nestled beside her, alternately looking in her face and licking her hands.  It occurred to Hetty that perhaps he was hungry too, and that if she had left him in the stable-yard he would at least have got his dinner.  Remorse troubled her, and she cast about to try and discover something they two could eat.  A tempting-looking bunch of berries hung from a tree near her, and she thought that if she could reach them they might be of some slight use in allaying the pangs of hunger felt by both her and her dog.  She was at once on her feet, and straining all her limbs to reach the berries.

They were caught, the branch broke, and Hetty fell down the bank, twisting her foot and spraining her ankle badly.

After the first cry wrung from her by the shock she was very silent; and having gathered herself up as well as she could, she sat on the ground, unable to attempt to stand.  The pain was excessive, and great tears rolled down her cheeks as she endured it.  Scamp gazed at her piteously, snuffed all round her, and looked as if he would like to take her on his back and carry her home.  She threw her arms round his neck and hugged him.

“No, you can’t help me, Scampie, dear, and I don’t know what is to become of us.  I can’t move, and nobody knows where I have gone to.  Of course it is all my fault, for I know I have been very disobedient.  But I didn’t feel wicked, not a bit.”