wanted the money for, I might have told him.'

'But it appeared----'

'I don't care what it appeared,' interrupted Lackland, laughing; 'I only
wish papa hadn't burnt the whole of my translation: the beginning of it
was all right, and I might have copied it straight off, instead of
having to make it all out again.'

'Oh yes! that was dreadful,' replied Willie. 'And then what he said too!
I was so sorry, Johnnie; I knew you must be so ashamed.'

Jean-sans-terre's eyes seemed to be searching after penitence again, as
they had when his mother spoke to him.

'_Ought_ I to have been ashamed?' he asked with simplicity.

The question appeared to Willie so extraordinary, that he really didn't
know what to say in answer. He pondered over it seriously while he was
undressing, and added to his evening prayers this clause: 'Make Johnnie
more sorry when he has vexed papa.'

Dr. Campbell was certainly vexed and disappointed with his son, and
showed it a little in his manner, which was, however, quite useless as
far as Johnnie was concerned, for he never even remarked it. There are
children so sensitive, that the faintest shade of sadness or disapproval
in the manner of their elders towards them will suffice to make them
unhappy for days; there are others who, unless they are actually scolded
or punished, never perceive that anything is amiss: and Johnnie was one
of these last. He was just as pleasant and affectionate to his father as
usual, just as fearless in his remarks and questions, and showed up his
translation, when he had finished it, quite as unconcernedly as if no
previous one had ever existed. He got the half-crown this time, and a
fair meed of praise, which he received with undisguised satisfaction,
and the mental reflection that 'papa was very kind.'

Dr. Campbell did not inquire how he meant to spend the money, not
wishing to show a want of confidence in his son; and Johnnie tarried for
no explanation, but raced off to the nurseryman's, only pausing to tell
Honorius that he was no longer 'sans argent,' and to ask what plants he
should buy.

The boys, by constant labour, had managed already to dig up the proposed
flower-border and to level the part intended for the paths; but Honorius
was sadly at a loss as to where they should get gravel for the latter.
He could not help looking rather wistfully at a great heap of
it--beautiful golden gravel too--which lay in one corner of the garden
of an old lady to whom his