I Have a Difficult Task

The gardener was right. The fight was a lesson for the boys, who kept
at a distance from me, during the next few days, while our scratches and
bruises grew faint and began to heal.

We had expected they would have been off to school; but for some reason,
illness I believe, the holidays were extended for a month, and so they
stayed, but I was pretty well left in peace.

My first hint of Sir Francis' return was given by that gentleman
himself, who came upon me suddenly as I was busy in the peach-house. I
was painting away at the branches that had become infected with a
tiresome kind of blight, when I heard a sharp quick step behind me, and
my heart quailed, for I felt that it was Sir Francis about to take me to
task for my encounter with his sons.

I kept busily on with my work, in the faint, hope that he might pass me
and say nothing, but he stopped short, and looked on as I busied myself
with my brush and the poisonous decoction that was to kill the insects.

I was in agony, for I felt that he was looking me through and through,
and when he did speak at last I gave quite a jump.

"Hah!" he exclaimed, "rather hard upon the insects. Well, Grant, how
are you getting on?"

"Very well, Sir Francis, I think," I said.

"Seen any more of that boy?"

"Yes, Sir Francis," I said, colouring.