Norman s.n.a.t.c.hed it from her. The swan was at this time near him. What was his astonishment on presenting the rod, to see the swan swim away from him instead of coming near, and when he tried the fish they did the same.

"You see they are not so tame to you as they are to me?" said f.a.n.n.y laughing.

Norman had presented the reverse end of the magnet, which, of course, sent them away from him. Again he tried to attract the fish and swan.

"Let me try again!" said f.a.n.n.y, "if I look angrily at them they will go away from me as they did from you." She also presented the reverse end of the magnet, trying to frown, though she had some difficulty in bringing her smiling countenance to do so. "Now I will look kindly at them, and call them, and you will see that they will come to me;" and she presented the right end of the magnet, when all the creatures came up to the side of the dish near which she stood.

She now gave it back to Norman, and though he did not look as amiable as she did, he burst into a laugh when he saw the creatures coming towards him.

"I wish papa had brought me something like that," he said. "There is some fun in it."

"You shall play with it as much as you like, Norman," said f.a.n.n.y. "As it is papa's present I cannot give it you, but you can amuse yourself with it as much as if it was yours."

This promise for the moment put Norman into better humour, though he still wished that he had the toy all to himself, while he left his football neglected on the ground.

The rest of the party went to get ready for their excursion, but he could not leave f.a.n.n.y's toy. When she came back dressed, she found him at the side-table, where the servant had placed the dish.

"I will give you my football for this, for I want it all to myself."

"I am sorry to hear you say that," answered f.a.n.n.y; "I told you that I could not give away papa's present, and the football is not suited to a little girl like me."

"You are an ill-natured thing," exclaimed Norman, petulantly. "You will never do what I want."

f.a.n.n.y smiled, though she felt inclined to be vexed at this false accusation.

"We must at all events put the things up now," she said, "for mamma has sent me to tell you to come and get ready."

"I will not get ready, I do not want to go to the picnic," said Norman.

"But you must come," said f.a.n.n.y taking hold of his arm, "mamma wishes it."

Norman resisted, and, intending to seize the table, caught the dish instead, and pulled it to the ground, splashing himself over and breaking the dish.

"Oh what have you done?" cried f.a.n.n.y.

"It was all your fault," said Norman. "If you had let me alone it would not have happened."

f.a.n.n.y did feel very angry with him. What she might have done, it is difficult to say, had not Mrs Maclean entered the room.

"I can understand how it happened, and whose fault it was," she observed. "Do not mind the broken dish, dear f.a.n.n.y, I will send for the servant to take it away, and do you, young gentleman, go and get ready to accompany your mamma."

Norman, who on seeing Mrs Maclean enter, fully expected to be punished, thought her kinder than he had supposed, and felt more inclined to like her than before. He accompanied f.a.n.n.y without saying a word, and made no opposition when getting ready for the excursion.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE PICNIC.

There were two small open carriages prepared for the expedition. The laird drove Mrs Maclean and Mrs Leslie in one, and Captain Vallery took charge of his wife and children in the other.

After driving some way along the road, leaving the loch behind them they mounted a hill, and to f.a.n.n.y's surprise, she found that they were close to Alec Morrison's cottage. The laird called him out.

"We are going to Glen Corpach, and as I am not sure whether we shall find any one to row the boat there, I wish you would come with us."

Alec said he could not leave Robby.

"Bring him, then," said the laird. "You get up by the side of me, and Robby can go in the other carriage with the children."

They stopped a few minutes while his grandfather helped Robby to put on his best clothes. His toilet was quickly finished, and Alec lifted him into the carriage with the children.

f.a.n.n.y was very glad to see him, but Norman looked at him askance, as if he was an intruder, and was afraid besides that he would ask after the little bird. f.a.n.n.y also was afraid that he might do so, and she was very unwilling to have to tell him that it was dead. She therefore talked to him about as many things as she could think of. She asked him how Lory was, and if he had ever been in a carriage before? Robby answered that Lory was very well, and that he had once been in a carrier's cart, but that it did not move as fast as they were going, and seemed highly delighted with the drive. The question both the children dreaded came at last.

"Don't be teasing us by your questions, you stupid little fellow," said Norman hastily, "I wonder you are not ashamed of your impudence."

Poor little Robby looked much abashed at this rebuke.

"I only asked after the young lady's bird," he said.

"Hold your tongue, you little monkey," cried Norman, giving him a kick, "that's just what I don't choose you should talk about."

"Norman you should not treat Robby so," said f.a.n.n.y becoming indignant.

"I am sorry to say, Robby, that the little birdie is dead. We did not behave as kindly to it as you would have done."

"Oh dear! oh dear! how did it die?" asked Robby.

"Hold your tongue, I say," cried Norman giving him another kick, which made Robby cry.

This attracted the attention of Mrs Vallery who was seated in front with her husband.

"What is the matter, children?" she asked, looking round.

"Nothing at all, mamma, only the stupid child chooses to cry," answered Norman. "Keep quiet you tiresome little brat."

"Oh, mamma, will you take Norman in front with you? He has hurt Robby,"

said f.a.n.n.y.

"I won't go," answered Norman, "I like to stay where I am. You may take the brat with you if you like, mamma."

"There is scarcely room for any one," said Mrs Vallery. "And I must beg you children to be quiet. f.a.n.n.y, you can keep them from quarrelling, I should hope."

Poor f.a.n.n.y would willingly have done so, for Norman was doing his best to spoil the pleasure of her drive. She took Robby to sit beside her, where Norman could not reach him without kicking her. He having vented his anger, now remained quiet, only occasionally giving an angry look at the poor little orphan.

Soon having crossed the level heath, they entered a narrow glen between the mountains, which rose up on either side of them, here and there covered with wood; in other places the cliffs were almost perpendicular, while a stream rushed foaming and sparkling over its rocky sides close to the road. As they advanced, the scenery became more wild and picturesque. f.a.n.n.y admired it much, for she had never been in so romantic a country. Now they went up the steep side of a hill, from the top of which could be seen range beyond range of mountains, with deep valleys, patches of forest, wild rocks, and a narrow sheet of water which shone in the bright sunlight, while here and there could be distinguished a thin silvery line descending from a mountain height, and winding along at the bottom of a valley.

"We are not far from Glen Corpach," shouted the laird, "and I see some of our friends are making their way towards it."

He pointed to some patches which f.a.n.n.y thought looked like ants, with a black beetle in front of them, winding down the mountain.