'So _you_ are the culprit,' Leo's mother exclaimed, laughing. And then she told the whole story.

His father was very much interested, and very sorry to have caused any anxiety. He put a whole shilling into the 'till,' which more than put Leo's accounts straight. And the next day he did something still nicer.

He brought Leo home the neatest little letter-weigher you ever saw, and told him to add a new rule, to say that letters should be weighed at a charge of a farthing each, in case anyone was in doubt how many stamps to put on. And he also gave Leo a present of a packet of big envelopes of different sizes, which he told him he might sell for a halfpenny each, as they were thick and strong. So Leo's business is flourishing and increasing very much, and he has even thoughts of adding luggage labels and registered-letter envelopes to his stock in trade.

And since the night that mamma watched for the burglars, not a single stamp or postcard or anything has ever been missing.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration: DENIS IS FRIGHTENED. Page 121.]

BRAVE LITTLE DENIS.

The brave man is not he who feels no fear, For that were stupid and irrational; But he whose n.o.ble soul its fear subdues, And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from.

JOANNA BAILLIE.

CHAPTER I.--WHAT IS 'BRAVE?'

The news had come up to the nursery, and there was great excitement and rejoicing. Linda and Nettie chattered so fast, and had so many questions to ask, that the 'big' boys, Alex and Lambert, when they came in to tea could not at first find out what it was all about, or get anyone to explain. And when at last baby--Miss Baby, who was two years old and quite understood that, when nurse wanted to speak, it was not the time to pull her shoes off and complain that 'hers toes was told'--condescended to be quiet and let poor nurse answer, the noise did not grow any less, I can a.s.sure you.

'Going to Baronscourt for Christmas. Hurrah!' shouted Alex. 'Three cheers for Granny, Lambert,' which Lambert was only too ready to join in.

'Do you think Granny will make us a Christmas-tree, nurse?' asked Nettie.

'She _should_,' said Linda, 'because of missing last year, you know.'

'Me kismas-tee, too,' said Baby.

'Silly little girl, everybody can't have a Christmas-tree for themselves,'

said Linda; at which snub Baby began her preparations for a scream, which was only averted by Alex good-naturedly picking up his little sister and instructing her to give three cheers for Granny.

'Now join too, Denis,' said Linda. 'Why don't you cheer too?'

Denis raised his grave little face.

'I want to finish this story,' he said, dropping his eyes again on the book in his hands.

'What a fancy he's taken for reading, all of a sudden,' said Linda in a lower voice to nurse. 'I don't believe he understands it. He reads awfully slowly when he's at his lessons.'

'Well, Miss Linda, he's only five,' said nurse. 'It's nice for him to find something to keep him quiet sometimes. But he is rather strange this afternoon. I don't know what he's got in his head, sitting there by himself, though to be sure he's always a good bit quieter than his brothers.'

'He's such a baby for his age,' said Linda, rather contemptuously. 'When Alex was seven--that's only two years older than Denis is now--he could do all sorts of things--jump his pony and play cricket, and'----

'I don't think you can remember much about it, Linda,' said Alex, who had overheard her. 'When I was seven you were only five, and that's three years ago, and when Lam was five he couldn't do any better than Den.'

'Because Lambert was delicate, and Denis is not a bit delicate; he's just very babyish,' said Linda, turning away, as if that settled the question.

Denis looked up and opened his lips as if going to speak, but then shut them again and said nothing.

'Aren't you glad to go to Baronscourt, Den?' said gentle little Nettie, the sister who came next him in age. She was sitting beside him at the tea-table, and spoke in rather a low voice. 'Don't you remember how pretty it is there? It's only six months since we were there last. You can't have forgotten it.'

'No,' said Denis; 'I've not forgotten it.'

'Then, aren't you glad to go?'

'I'm glad to see Granny and Prince,' said Denis; but that was all Nettie could get out of him.

He was always a quiet little boy, but during the next few days, if anyone had noticed him closely, it would have been seen that he was even quieter than usual. But these next few days were very busy ones, for the Christmas visit to Baronscourt had been decided on hurriedly, and the nursery arrangements were rather upset. Only once, when the children's mother had come up to see them, she noticed Denis sitting silently in a corner with a very grave look on his little face.

'Is he not well?' she asked nurse, and nurse, after a glance in the child's direction, replied 'that she did not think he was ill; he was often very quiet--it would pa.s.s off again.'

'The change to Baronscourt will brighten him up,' said his mother. And then she went on to tell nurse some of the arrangements.

'I had a letter this morning,' she said. 'The house will be very full, but they can take us all in. The girls will have the little room next to mine, and the boys will have the turret room at the end of the picture gallery.'

A movement beside her made her stop and look round. Denis had left his corner and was standing beside her, listening with all his ears, and gazing up in her face with his large soft blue eyes.

'And where will nurse, and 'Liza, and baby, and me sleep,' he asked.

His mother laughed.

'You won't be forgotten,' she said. 'Nurse and baby will have the old nursery, and you will have a little cot beside them, I daresay.'

A look of satisfaction crept over his face.

'And 'Liza?' he asked.

'Oh, poor 'Liza won't be forgotten either,' said his mother.

Denis grew brighter after this conversation, and at tea that afternoon, when all the children were talking, he joined in as usual.

'Mother told me where you'se all to sleep at Granny's house,' he announced, impatiently. 'I'm to sleep with nurse and baby.'

'Yes, of course, because you're such a baby yourself,' said Linda.

'Nettie and I are to have a room to ourselves like we have at home.

I hope it'll be the turret room at the end of the gallery. I do so love the gallery--at night, you know, when the moon comes in through the coloured gla.s.s and makes all the faces of the pictures look so queer--red and purple, and blue and green. The red ones look quite jolly, but the green and blue ones look dreadful.'

'Like ghosts,' suggested Lambert.