way.”
“And do you agree?” Anne asked the other twin.
“Of course I agree. It was a most dishonorable thing to do.”
“Then what is your opinion of a man who would lead a woman into the wilderness and then abandon her to her fate?”
“He should be hanged by the neck until dead,” one twin replied, at the same time the other said with bloodthirsty relish, “He should be taken before a firing squad and shot.”
They looked up at her for approval, but she merely said, “And what do you think should be the punishment for two boys who lead an old woman out onto Dartmoor and abandon her, then derive amusement from her panic?”
There was a long silence, then one of the twins ventured to say, “You are not really all that old.”
“And you did not panic, not even for a minute,” the other one added.
“I was referring to Miss Jennings. She is old enough to be your mother, and I believe she was terrified out of her mind.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” Anne said firmly. “What do you think should be the punishment for men who acted in such a cowardly manner?”
There was an even longer silence. Then one twin said tentatively, “We are not actually men.”
“Yes, we are only just turned ten,” his brother added.
“I see,” Anne said thoughtfully. “Then what you are saying, is that the seedling of a thorn tree, when it is grown to full height, will magically lose its thorns and turn into a solid English oak?”
They contemplated this idea for a while, and then one twin said firmly, “There was no real danger. We did not actually go off and leave Miss Jennings.”
“No,” the other twin added. “We were just hiding behind the rocks. We would not have let her become truly lost, so it is not as bad as letting one’s wife be captured by Indians.”
Both twins looked up at her hopefully to see if she would accept that excuse, and Anne was interested to note that there was no sign of their earlier fake angelic smiles on their faces.
“So, being afraid for your life, as you were, you hid behind the rocks?”
“Oh, we were never afraid.”
“We just thought it would be funny.”
Anne stopped dead in her tracks and dropped the boys’ hands. “Funny? You think scaring women is funny? And do you also think it is funny to pull wings off butterflies and tie tin cans to puppy dogs’ tails?”
There was no answer. “Tell me, do either of you know what it is called when someone finds amusement in another’s pain?”
“Mean,” one of the twins said softly, his eyes now downcast.
“Malicious,” the other one said, moving close enough to his brother that their shoulders touched, as if needing comfort from physical contact with his twin. “Are you going to whip us?” he asked finally. “I do not think Uncle Bronson will like it if you have us hanged or shot.”
“Since you are old enough to understand right from wrong, you are also old enough to figure out what you can do to correct what you did.”
“But we can’t correct it. Miss Jennings is gone,” one twin blurted out.
Anne made no comment; she just stood there waiting patiently.
“But I am sure we can think of something,” the other twin finally said with resignation in his voice. “We are really very ingenious.”
“Yes,” his brother agreed. “Most resourceful. You did not happen to talk to Miss Sidwell before you came here, did you?”
“No, I did not. Should I have?” Anne asked, struggling to keep a smile off her face.
“Oh, no, that is quite unnecessary,” the other twin hurried to assure her.
* * * *
“I would invite you in, Leatham, but I am not yet a member of the family, and I would not like to impose unduly upon my host’s hospitality. At this hour the servants have most likely retired.”
It was well after midnight and the two men were strolling home after an evening of conviviality. They were still several doors away from the Fairgrove residence when it became obvious something was amiss there. Every
“And do you agree?” Anne asked the other twin.
“Of course I agree. It was a most dishonorable thing to do.”
“Then what is your opinion of a man who would lead a woman into the wilderness and then abandon her to her fate?”
“He should be hanged by the neck until dead,” one twin replied, at the same time the other said with bloodthirsty relish, “He should be taken before a firing squad and shot.”
They looked up at her for approval, but she merely said, “And what do you think should be the punishment for two boys who lead an old woman out onto Dartmoor and abandon her, then derive amusement from her panic?”
There was a long silence, then one of the twins ventured to say, “You are not really all that old.”
“And you did not panic, not even for a minute,” the other one added.
“I was referring to Miss Jennings. She is old enough to be your mother, and I believe she was terrified out of her mind.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” Anne said firmly. “What do you think should be the punishment for men who acted in such a cowardly manner?”
There was an even longer silence. Then one twin said tentatively, “We are not actually men.”
“Yes, we are only just turned ten,” his brother added.
“I see,” Anne said thoughtfully. “Then what you are saying, is that the seedling of a thorn tree, when it is grown to full height, will magically lose its thorns and turn into a solid English oak?”
They contemplated this idea for a while, and then one twin said firmly, “There was no real danger. We did not actually go off and leave Miss Jennings.”
“No,” the other twin added. “We were just hiding behind the rocks. We would not have let her become truly lost, so it is not as bad as letting one’s wife be captured by Indians.”
Both twins looked up at her hopefully to see if she would accept that excuse, and Anne was interested to note that there was no sign of their earlier fake angelic smiles on their faces.
“So, being afraid for your life, as you were, you hid behind the rocks?”
“Oh, we were never afraid.”
“We just thought it would be funny.”
Anne stopped dead in her tracks and dropped the boys’ hands. “Funny? You think scaring women is funny? And do you also think it is funny to pull wings off butterflies and tie tin cans to puppy dogs’ tails?”
There was no answer. “Tell me, do either of you know what it is called when someone finds amusement in another’s pain?”
“Mean,” one of the twins said softly, his eyes now downcast.
“Malicious,” the other one said, moving close enough to his brother that their shoulders touched, as if needing comfort from physical contact with his twin. “Are you going to whip us?” he asked finally. “I do not think Uncle Bronson will like it if you have us hanged or shot.”
“Since you are old enough to understand right from wrong, you are also old enough to figure out what you can do to correct what you did.”
“But we can’t correct it. Miss Jennings is gone,” one twin blurted out.
Anne made no comment; she just stood there waiting patiently.
“But I am sure we can think of something,” the other twin finally said with resignation in his voice. “We are really very ingenious.”
“Yes,” his brother agreed. “Most resourceful. You did not happen to talk to Miss Sidwell before you came here, did you?”
“No, I did not. Should I have?” Anne asked, struggling to keep a smile off her face.
“Oh, no, that is quite unnecessary,” the other twin hurried to assure her.
* * * *
“I would invite you in, Leatham, but I am not yet a member of the family, and I would not like to impose unduly upon my host’s hospitality. At this hour the servants have most likely retired.”
It was well after midnight and the two men were strolling home after an evening of conviviality. They were still several doors away from the Fairgrove residence when it became obvious something was amiss there. Every
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