“I heard it too, sister.  Yes, it’s quite true,” said Duke, beginning to sob.  “But I can’t go and tell Grandmamma now.  There’s such a great deal to tell; it isn’t only about Toby.  It’s about having said the bowls was empty,” and Duke’s sobs redoubled.  “Supposing—­supposing, sister, us didn’t tell Grandmamma just this time, and us would never, never not listen to that speaking inside us again?”

Pamela hesitated.  She stood quite quite still, her eyes gazing before her, but as if seeing nothing—­she seemed to be listening.

“Bruvver,” she said at last, “I can’t tell you yet.  I must fink.  But I’m almost sure it’s speaking now.  I’m almost sure it’s saying us must tell.”

“Oh don’t, don’t, Pamela,” cried poor Duke; “you mustn’t say that.  For I can’t—­I am sure I can’t—­tell Grandmamma.  And you won’t tell without me knowing, will you, sister?”

“For sure not,” replied Pamela indignantly.  “Us must do it togevver like always.  But there’s Miss Mitten coming—­I hear her.  Wait till after she’s gone, bruvver, and then I’ll tell you what I’ve been finking.”

With this Duke was obliged to content himself.  But he and Pamela took care to put away in a shelf of the toy cupboard, where they would not be seen, the remains of the broken bowl.

Miss Mitten had two very quiet and subdued little pupils that morning.  She noticed Duke’s red eyes, but, not being on very intimate terms with the children, for she was rather a formal young person, she said nothing about them.  Only when lessons were quite finished she told her pupils they might tell their Grandmamma that they had been very good and attentive.

“Your good Grandmamma will be pleased to hear this,” she said, “for she must be troubled about poor Nurse’s being ill.  I hope you will do your best to give her no trouble you can possibly avoid,” and with these words Miss Mitten took her leave.

She had scarcely left when Biddy came to take the children out a walk, and after that it was their dinner-time, so that it was not till the afternoon that they found themselves quite alone and able to talk over their troubles.  They had not seen Grandmamma since the morning, for she had gone out in the pony-carriage with Grandpapa to pay some visits, which in those days were really “morning calls”! and she had left word that after their dinner Duke and Pamela might play in the garden till she and Grandpapa came home.

“And when us sees them coming us’ll ask Grandpapa to tell Walters to drive us round to the stable in the pony-carriage,” said Duke, jumping up and down in great excitement, quite forgetting his troubles for the moment.  But his forgetfulness did not last long.  Biddy began looking about the room as if in search of something; she seemed vexed and uneasy.

“What’s the matter, Biddy?” said Duke, stopping in the midst of his gymnastics.

“Have you seen one of the china bowls anywhere about, you or Miss Pamela, Master Duke?” asked the girl.  “Cook is so angry with me, and she will have it I’ve broken it and won’t tell,” and poor Biddy looked ready to cry.